I went into motherhood thinking I'd create one treasured moment after another in Maggie's childhood. The house we bought in North Carolina was bordered by brilliant azaleas and pink and white dogwoods. It looked like a fairy squadron descended on us each spring. I decided we should establish beautiful gardens for an equivalent ground game.…

I grew up with powerful parents. Not because they were rich and famous, but because they knew the value of daydreaming. My father once brought home several huge empty boxes from his office and asked me to imagine what my perfect playhouse would look like. I drew it. He cut and taped boxes together in…

A story precedes every child. Some are happy. Some, horrific. Our daughter's first chapter was written in desperation. By four adults. On both sides of the ocean. After Cliff and I settled in Wisconsin, becoming parents was the hardest challenge we ever faced. In and out of medical offices for years, we were finally referred…

You have no idea what you'll learn during the first year of marriage. When I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies, Cliff commented, "The recipe says four dozen. That's not what you got." "I eat a lot of dough," I replied nonchalantly. When he made a cake, I noted, "It didn't rise much." He…

I woke up to overhead scratching outside at 5:25 am last week. From her pillow on the floor, Maria's head shot up, too. The noise moved along the eaves, followed by a persistent clawing at the wood. I knew this sound from two years ago when a snowy owl slept in our attic. When the…

August marked our second year in Milan, Ohio. To borrow one of my mother's chipper expressions, we are "right as rain" in this curious place. Cliff has become a gentleman farmer, planting tomatoes, asparagus, strawberries, and squash. (Read my post Ohio Gothic for clarification and pertinent picture.) He scouted for a volunteer opportunity and chose…

Because Christmas has a lot of moving parts, I begin holiday hamster wheeling in October. Where to set the tree? Same room in the corner? A different room? Color theme for the paper and ribbons? Depends on where I place the tree, of course. Cookie assortment? What goes in the new front porch flower pots?…

I admit to being obsessed with things that most people call unimportant. I fuss relentlessly over stuff: figurines on a shelf, pumpkins on the porch, ornaments on the tree. More over here. Less up there. No one else sees it, of course. But I can't help taking note of small details. Several people have pointed…

When I published Part 6, I thought I was finished. Honest-to-goodness, I did. However, a guest blogger from the twelve student reflections insisted I had more to say. She believed readers would wonder how I ever went on, after experiencing such verbal and emotional pummeling. I saw her point. For months, I've written and deleted.…

You just never know. When Cliff and I got married, we were school teachers in Tulsa. However, we'd both planned on other careers: technical theater for me and pre-law for Cliff. If we'd stayed on those tracks, chances are we'd never have met. But we did. It was a blind date I agreed to so…

Iunderstand the purpose of a fence for holding things in--wayward dogs, wandering toddlers, windblown lawn chairs. But a fence raises questions; unbordered space offers answers. Our block contains five open back yards without a picket or chain link. All summer long this unfettered rectangle has bloomed and buzzed, unconcerned with crabgrass or heat. Owners…

My mother, a farm girl, was more interested in chickens than birds. But she loved robins and always commented: "They might not be beauties to most people, but they're nice. There's a politeness about them." Then came her next bird observation: "They're not like those awful blue jays, always making a racket and barging in."…

Saturday was my birthday. My family understands that KAREN written in pastel icing across a vanilla cake is essential. So that's never a surprise. Still, I did get surprised this year. Maybe shocked would be a better choice. That morning as Cliff and I sat on the porch, Rob and Beth walked over with a…

Monday, August 21: Solar Eclipse. I knew it was coming; it consumed the news for two weeks. But when I woke that morning to a honking horn, I knew I was in for a day like no other. I looked out the window to find a traffic jam on Church Street. Five cars at a…

Because I'm a writer, I can sift through details to make the story end however I like. Therefore, I made my previous post, "A Toad, A Turkey, and a Ton of Sandstone" sound delightful. I skipped over the middle. It didn't show me in the best possible light, a dark place not suitable for my…

When we moved into this house, built in 1859, we outlined obvious projects: rotting corbels, leaking roof, loose bricks. But the garden, while not a structural disaster, made me wince. Once the three-feet-tall weeds were removed, I faced a new obstacle. A previous owner had created a path with round cement pavers from a big…

In Milan, the whole community rallies for Memorial Day. The Edison High School Marching Band lines up in the town square. Baton twirlers, scout troops, and veterans. Fire trucks and police cars with whirling lights. Eager children on bikes decorated in red, white, and blue. The whistle blasts. They're off, parading to the cemetery for…

When we moved to Milan, Ohio, two years ago, a terrific high school boy, Connor, began mowing and trimming our yard. He's not reluctant to tackle any chore. He even joined Cliff for fence painting on summer mornings when he didn't have football practice. My mother would have called Conner workified, significant praise from her.…

Prayer has never been my go-to position. To me, it seems like a desperate last-ditch effort to get something or to avoid something. Like making a wish, blowing out birthday candles, and expecting life to change easily. But I found myself in that last-ditch-effort position once. Like most couples, Cliff and I wanted to be…

It started out simply enough. On a Huron County run for Meals on Wheels last March, Cliff's supervisor pointed to an eagle's nest in a towering oak beside a rushing creek. She'd watched families come and go for three years and said another one was on the nest. That nest was a deep stack of…