Category: Memoirs

I Wandered Lonely and Now Remember Daffodils

I Wandered Lonely and Now Remember Daffodils

An example from another poet helped me break through writer’s block and honor my grandmother’s passing 2 years ago today.

One Hombre is No More: Goodbye and Thanks for the Memories to Dusty Hill of ZZ Top

One Hombre is No More: Goodbye and Thanks for the Memories to Dusty Hill of ZZ Top

Remembering Dusty Hill and how he and ZZ Top were part of my childhood.

100 Years, 1 Month and 1 Day in this World, and Now Dancing with the Daffodils

100 Years, 1 Month and 1 Day in this World, and Now Dancing with the Daffodils

A remembrance and a haiku for the intrepid little lady we lost, Ruth Violet Hiatt Holt.

The 100 Club has a New Member: Happy Birthday, Grandma!

The 100 Club has a New Member: Happy Birthday, Grandma!

My grandmother is 100 today, a bona fide centenarian. Wow!

suicide regrets: i missed the nuances of your decline

suicide regrets: i missed the nuances of your decline

A poem dedicated to my brother, a victim of suicide, who suffered in silence. Call the suicide prevention hotline at 800-273-8255.

Stormy Weather: Reflections and Musings on Hurricanes

Stormy Weather: Reflections and Musings on Hurricanes

Remembering storms whose names have spawned headlines and headaches, headstones and heartache, hardships and heroism. And wondering, why do we have to name storms after people? Why not use diseases or the periodic table? Or colors?

Empty Stockings Full of Love

Empty Stockings Full of Love

Each year, memories fly out of these treasures like dust motes in the light and gently come to rest on me.

You Left Us Too Soon: Open Letter to Steven Thomas Harvell on His Birthday

You Left Us Too Soon: Open Letter to Steven Thomas Harvell on His Birthday

I remember my brother now more with joy at what was than sadness about what will never be.

Every Seashell Tells a Story

Every Seashell Tells a Story

Gumbo is a family treasure, seashells elicit childhood memories, and these napkin rings made with shells we found 40 years ago bring echoes of the past into the now.

Frank Harvell and Oscar Wilde Shared a Birthday

Frank Harvell and Oscar Wilde Shared a Birthday

October 16 is a special day. RIP Oscar Wilde and Dad.

Natural Beauty

Natural Beauty

Still Life: Seashells with Shellac on a Paper Bag.

It’s My Birthday, and I’d Like to Give You a Gift

It’s My Birthday, and I’d Like to Give You a Gift

A poem by Gordon Parks speaks of curiosity, wonder, celebration of life and nature, and the awesome, simple, dead-on-target mindfulness of children.

Fleeting

Fleeting

A footprint, a feather and a leaf, about to be swept away. Remembering my brother in a haiku.

Gumbo: It’s a Family Affair

Gumbo: It’s a Family Affair

A 7th grade essay sums up how gumbo got started for us: “My family has a 35-year history with gumbo.” Part 2 of a series.

My Cookbook Fetish is Inherited

My Cookbook Fetish is Inherited

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 […]

January Dreaming

January Dreaming

My Mom always hated January. Too cold. Too damp. Too boring. This is the first post in a series: January Dreaming.

Finally, a Trip to K-Paul’s in New Orleans

Finally, a Trip to K-Paul’s in New Orleans

Paul Prudhomme’s cookbooks started a family tradition, and K-Paul’s Louisiana Kitchen is part of it.

The Story of Chicken

The Story of Chicken

Family-memory stories gain a patina with age and become the stuff of legend. The Story of Chicken is one of those stories.

(Another) Haiku for Dad, On His Second Birthday in Heaven

(Another) Haiku for Dad, On His Second Birthday in Heaven

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 […]

Heart-Theater, an Elegy

Heart-Theater, an Elegy

An elegy for three, from the one remaining. They live in my heart-theater, their voices all trumpets and whispers and hugs.


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