I have hundreds of cookbooks. Literally. It’s Mom’s Fault (thanks, Mom!) I’m a cookbook collector, or maybe even a cookbook pack rat. It might be a bit of a sickness. I’ve tried to slow it down, but for a while there, I was on a…
I’m not on the recommended pace to write a poem each day this month to participate in National Poetry Month, but this one happened in about 30 seconds. There will never be another muse like my Dad. He was a remarkable, wonderful, loving, accepting, listening…
A vignette in the produce section inspired a poem about dads and daughters.
Family-memory stories gain a patina with age and become the stuff of legend. The Story of Chicken is one of those stories.
My dad was born 80 years ago today in West Texas as the Great Depression was coming to an end in the shadow of another Great War in Europe, a time before regular Americans realized we’d be involved in that war. With that backdrop and…
An elegy for three, from the one remaining. They live in my heart-theater, their voices all trumpets and whispers and hugs.
Business trip serendipity. Fireworks and haiku. Memories. Good times. Edinburgh rocks.
A Glover Gardens reader shares childhood memories of seafood boils: “total freedom and good eating in a safe corner of the world”. Bay St. Louis, Mississippi is one of Expedia’s Most Beautiful Towns in America list, and now on my Must-Go list.
The Grill-Meister is a great Dad to his son and Bonus Dad to mine. While Dad was alive, he and the Grill-Meister “got on like a house afire.” He takes great care of his elderly parents. He’s fun, thoughtful and resourceful. And great at grilling!…
I’m reblogging this post from Father’s Day last year with a haiku for my Dad. He loved it, and died 3 days later. I miss him, on this first Father’s Day without him. But I am perfectly at peace knowing that he knew how much…
A poem from the heart on Mothers’ Day about the incredible blessing of having a kid.
The joy each family member finds in the others is evident. I couldn’t pick my favorite pic, so I’ve shared several, to help you feel the (fabulous) love.
This haiku for NaHaiWriMo is dedicated to all parents of little ones (and once-little ones who’re all grown up now) .
My grandmother “Mema” fed us in classic grandmotherly style: something was always just out of the oven, just for you. Here’s her legendary yeast roll recipe.
This creamed corn is a rich, creamy dish that makes you nostalgic for the old days when life was simpler, people were kinder and you could borrow an egg from your neighbor, even if you never experienced any “old days” in that way.
Thanksgiving weekend, eight of us family members spanning three generations packed into my Honda Pilot and headed down to the Bolivar Peninsula where I grew up. We were on a mission to visit Dad’s favorite restaurant down there, and remember him. It was a perfect…
50-year old photographs celebrate the birthday and memory of one who left us too soon: Steven Thomas Harvell.
Reconstructing Grandpa in the museum of my heart – a poem in memory of an amazing man, Thomas Carlyle Holt.
The World Series awakens baseball memories, and an appreciation of ancient Astros mementos.
A perky little salad pairs with rich and creamy risotto and caper-studded chicken piccata for a perfect Saturday night family meal, and the Astros won, too!
