I generally don’t like animated movies. But last Boxing Day, our three eldest granddaughters introduced me to Encanto, a new movie from Disney that pleasantly surprised me. “Would you watch it again?” one asked a few weeks later. “I would. And I did! Gampa and I watched it together.” She …
Tradition. That’s why Ezra, aged six years and eight hours, sits at our table, eying his breakfast: a vast bowl of Neapolitan ice cream. He chose that yesterday in the store, over my suggestions of more sophisticated options. “How about maple walnut? Black cherry? Rocky road?” But, no. He had …
Anything can happen on a porch. Connection. Refreshment. Reflection. Rejection, sometimes. Even buying and selling. As a child in the sixties, I had the chore of sweeping our small front porch clear of its weekly accumulation of dirt and spiders. Rarely do I remember anyone but company using that porch …
The Preacher has always left home decorating choices to me. He even tolerated the pink fireplace with the blue mantel, thankfully now decades behind us. So I didn’t tell him about the plan I recently had for the door at the end the boring hallway leading into the garage. That, …
We’re getting to know our new city, the Preacher and I. Every community has its own uniqueness, as individual and identifiable as a human thumbprint. Pleasant summer days find us exploring, sometimes together, sometimes on our own. I walk or bike, while Rick rides his tall scooter. The dog follows …
A few more months, the Preacher and I hope, and we’ll have completed our move. Meanwhile, it feels strange, living in two houses. No matter which house I’m in, I feel at home. The two places feel connected, albeit with a long, paved hall. Sometimes, when I’m standing in one …
We’re twenty percent moved, and one hundred percent befuddled. Despite knowing we must continue with our great downsizing, reducing the contents of a two-storey home to what best fits a one-storey (about half the size) has all the appeal of major surgery without anaesthetic. Our stow-n-go van and my car …
When did the lovely art of hospitality start to leave us? It dangles by a fraying thread, it seems. Even among Christ-followers, mandated to share both home and food, the hardened shears of too-much-business, and too-little-love have almost snipped it from among us. The Preacher and I accepted an invitation …
