June 7 Papa, The trees are different in New York. The forests on each side of the interstate are lighter, thinner, less honeysuckled than back home. There are vineyards, windmills, pines... and a sign that read: "Correction Facility -- Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers." Then, there were the Falls. I'm sitting here, trying to work up … Continue reading Day Two: So Much Water
I spent the night in a forest once and filtered my water from between two rocks, where a stream got caught and pulled through, bubbling up on the other side. It was just the place to rinse my fingers or fill my bottle. Streams flow down, and we use that phrase for grace too, because … Continue reading Grace that Roars
June 6 Papa, Today has been us and the highway: low cumulus clouds over farm fields and power lines, the smell of honey pretzels and luggage, and the interior plastic of the van rattling against my elbow. Not too much to write yet. I hope you don't mind an email each day or so; these … Continue reading Day One: East
At the end of each day on Cape Cod in June, I’d find a quiet corner of our cottage and jot off an email to my grandpa Larry. I'd mostly pull from my journal, trying to capture for him the way things smelled and looked and moved. He and my grandma (we called her Nanny) … Continue reading This Summer: The Cape Cod Letters
"I go down to the shore in the morning and depending on the hour the waves are rolling in or moving out, and I say, oh, I am miserable, what shall-- what should I do? And the sea says in its lovely voice: Excuse me, I have work to do." ~ Mary Oliver, I Go … Continue reading june ttmmh
Today, we're headed toward the sea. Since winter, when our plans for this trip were still scattered across the kitchen table, Papa Larry has brought a new scrapbook with him each time he’s come to dinner. They are all full and tell the stories of different trips he and Nanny took to Cape Cod (30 … Continue reading A Holiday at the Sea
This article was written for AnchoredPassion.com. I grew up between two brothers and down the street from three more boys, so I learned right away you’d never score a touchdown if you didn’t know how to juke. I was fast, but so were they, and without a quick stop, pump, and twist, I’d never make … Continue reading Play (Or Plod) To Win
"Perhaps there is some sort of secret homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers." ~ Juliet, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society Running Allie's property with her, down to the pond and across a field Planning a trip to the seaside English L'Abri Fellowship podcast Volleyball tournament Sunday night … Continue reading may ttmmh
I wrote a letter to my friend, Sarah, last week and told her I’m suffering from Gardening Shame. There are weeds in every box, and I haven’t re-mulched the paths, so black tarp shows through like the garden’s underwear. My tomato plants won't take to the soil and stand limp. Zoysia grass creeps in and … Continue reading Gardening Shame
"'But if it’s to be a flower name, then I don’t trouble about the length: it must be a beautiful flower, because, you see, I think she is very beautiful, and is going to be beautifuller still.’ Frodo thought for a moment. ‘Well, Sam, what about Elanor, the sun-star, you remember the little golden flower … Continue reading A Little Light
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