100-Word Story My grandmother’s hand must be guiding me as I move the mahjong tiles. Winds, dragons, craks slide over a felted tabletop like the one I sat beside in childhood while the good friends played. Advertisements
Smell of herbs, soft petals reaching for the sun, lilies almost open to the day, cold water droplets cling
Sing of bread, hard topped hand-made, plump flesh suffused with sap of
A Recipe / And spring into summer If we were having coffee, I would tell you life is just now creeping into full bloom in this area of Georgian Bay, held back by the cool of the lake and chill north winds. It’s the Victoria Day long weekend […]
Out of her element, a distaff unspun, alone. Dull colors clang against diluted light, seeping in where no one lives. Lost
For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: What’s This Guess in the comments section. Resist peeking. But if you REALLY have to know,
Salvaged vintage tin ceiling tiles, full of colour and classic architectural flourishes.
Look at those faces, reflecting my own, great-grandfather John far right, great-great-grandfather Thomas at the centre,