Mushy

What’s In a Name?

“Mama?” Tiller said, putting her head on my shoulder as we sat on the couch, her watching Mermaidia and me reading a book. “Yes, Baby?” I said, turning to look at her, eye to eye. “What’s your name?” “Anne. My name is Anne.” “What’s your other name?” “You mean my middle name?” “Yeah. Your middle name.” “My middle name is… Read more →

He’s 77

In dog years. I love that he sleeps pretty much all day, unless there is another dog around, or you utter the words, “treat,” “squirrel,” or “go.” I say, “wanna go pick up Tiller?” and he is up like a shot, arthritis be damned! Knocks the screen door open by himself and goes out to stand by the car. If… Read more →

The Gulf

I watched my children play in the sand while a storm came in, never quite reached us, but left us a rainbow that spanned the trees and the beach and gulf, all the way to the horizon. I listened as my children discussed whether the pot of gold was in the forest or in the deep blue sea, and where… Read more →