Dear Ma, Yesterday was the 10th anniversary of the day you left this plane. Just as you preferred, no tears, … More
Today, for the first time, I held in my hands, a book with my published story in it. A tribute … More
Back when television consisted of four or five channels, with midday programming limited to soaps, we depended on an active imagination to avoid idleness. My dad loved to hear me say “I’m bored”. It gave him a break, because he sentenced me to hard labor if I dared whine “there’s nothing to do!”. There was no recourse; if I said it, he had an instant cure for boredom: a long list of chores. Thanks to Dad, I learned to pursue creative endeavours and invent adventures.
I don’t know what to write. All I know is I should write something. Anything? No, just something. It’s better … More
As far back as Coomers are known, we’ve been farmers. Dad broke the trend, having taken over his family farm … More
“He has suffered brain damage,” the doctor gravely told my mother after I was born. “We’re not sure about the … More