I wrote a poem this afternoon titled “Cold Hash“. My mom would take leftover beef roast and grind it together with boiled potatoes to make hash. It wasn’t like corned beef hash. This hash was gray and mushy. My sisters and I would smash it on our plates and write our initials in ketchup to […]Read more "Mum’s Hash"
It’s Christmas Eve morning. Our home is quiet so I’m able to wake slowly. As I gain consciousness, my mind starts to recall all that we’d like to do today. Thankfully, it’s a short list of wishes that we’ll get to if we can. Truly, nothing will make Christmas more meaningful than what it is. […]Read more "A gift that keeps on giving"
An entry from my observation journal. My daughter turned 21 years old a few weeks ago. Today we are in Africa and her striking blue eyes capture the attention of many. People say she looks like me but those who are better judges of similarity know she resembles her dad all the more. I watch […]Read more "Windows to the Soul"