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.
Each year, memories fly out of these treasures like dust motes in the light and gently come to rest on me.
I remember my brother now more with joy at what was than sadness about what will never be.
Making gumbo together is a bonding activity. You need chicken pickers, sausage slicers, vegetable choppers and a roux maker. Part 3 of the Glover Gardens Gumbo Series.
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.
A giant pork chop with homemade spaetzle served on vintage Corelle dishes proves once again that Food is Love.
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…
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.
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.
50-year old photographs celebrate the birthday and memory of one who left us too soon: Steven Thomas Harvell.
A well-worn family cookbook, Great Tastes from the Texas Coast, provides my late Mom’s guidance for antipasto success.
A little bee poem from a grieving and grateful daughter about making Dad-memories into honey.
An article by Peggy Trowbridge Filippone posted on The Spruce From the Swiss Alps to American suburbs, fondue proves it’s always hip to dip Fondue headlined suburban American theme parties in the 1960s, then pretty quickly fell out of favor, as fads so often do.…
Decorating a Christmas tree and talking about the ornaments is a family’s oral history. This haiku celebrates the tree.
Thanksgiving is about food and family and memories and connections. Sometimes those connections are new, with folks who would be family, only if they were near and known. I made such a connection tonight, with a marvelous lady named Cathy, from the land of Facebook…
This little memoir is dedicated to everyone who loved my brother Steve, and has the same bigger-but-now-broken heart because of his presence in your life.
