Spring will come again, people say. Yet I am heartsick. Nothing will happen when spring comes; That child will not come again. Nakahara Chuuya, “Spring Will Come Again” Note: the poem was written after the death of Chuuya’s first son, Fumiya, in November 1936
From a loving mother to her MVP. I miss you, baby. Dedicated to Michael Vincent Pugh, November 21, 2012-September 25, 2019. He is dead and gone lady. He is dead and gone. At his head a grass green turf. At his heels a stone --- William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 5 Before sunset, they … Continue reading Before, After, Before
One of my online groups, "Hearts Through History", had this as a weekly topic. This is my entry. My maternal grandpa was the best. Funny, clever and always ready to help. He was an immigrant from Italy who left there old enough to remember bits about living there. He described the area around his home, … Continue reading “What did you most admire about your grandparents?”
For the first time in probably a year, I bought a physical book - a real paperback. I purchased the book at a real bookstore, which I haven't been to in even longer. My more recent real-book purchases have been at displays at grocery stores and Walmart. I missed physical books terribly. They feel solid … Continue reading A Meeting with an Old Friend
Night Owl Romance has a blog subject #pets. My entry launches May 17th. Come read Watson's Tale! The Hound of the Pughs
My guest blog is posting to Night Owl Romance on May 17th.
“Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower or a whiff of smoke can bring up experiences long forgotten.” – Rupert Giles, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer: I Robot... You Jane” Sometimes, I miss my maternal grandparents' house in Chicagoland as much as I miss my grandparents. My Grandma Mary … Continue reading The Spot