Carpe Diem?

I’ve already acknowledged that isn’t easy to do all the time, at least in a positive way. So if not a day, then try to seize a moment. In times of sorrow, despair or confusion reach for controlling even just a moment. Bewilderment, fear, questions, tears.       When hit with unexpected news, especially bad news,everyone reactsContinue reading “Carpe Diem?”

A Poem from Diana Amman Cruze

Papa’s Recipe by Diana Amman Curze When I was 12 I Saw Papa, father of my father On his front porch swing Waving at life passing by Grey hair combed, suspenders neat Each day a clean, white shirt, soon to be Covered with tobacco spittle Papa was widowed twice, but kept An immaculate house, saveContinue reading “A Poem from Diana Amman Cruze”

My Own Path by Robin Newcomb Bell

I’ve always felt different from those around me. I don’t quite know what it is, but there is something  – It’s not that I feel  I’m better than others, there is simply something that makes me different. This has always been true. I just don’t quite fit in. Maybe it’s because I spend so muchContinue reading “My Own Path by Robin Newcomb Bell”

Question of the Day

Trying to Find Me How long will the search go on? The one to discover me. The one that started after birth and keeps showing up each morning. Surely seventy plus years is enough time to devote to this scramble of facts and figures that recalculate each time I think I am finally on theContinue reading “Question of the Day”

Happy Birthday, America

Happy Birthday, America. A lot has happened this year, as always, some good and some bad. Most of us survived or died a natural death. Many of us left mourn losses which make no sense. One distinction of aging is feeling others’ pain better than when I was young. I think more now about lives unfulfilled,Continue reading “Happy Birthday, America”

Mountain Memory

One spring day a friend, Karen and I were in Cades Cove taking in the visual glory  always found there. She proposed we take Parsons Branch Road as a different way out. Located just beyond the gift shop and grist mill, Parsons Branch is a one way, narrow, winding, eight miles long road.  I don’tContinue reading “Mountain Memory”