I remember chubby hands grasping thick crayons, and us singing your name to the tune of “Bingo was his name-oh.” I remember reading The Sign of the Beaver and building teepees and soft leather moccasins. We’ve painted medieval family crests; flooded mini Nile Rivers; constructed mud ziggarats; embalmed and  mummified toys; and chipped chicken bones…

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“We’ll have to buy our wood before the rain comes,” he mused, carrying in bags and unpacking their tools. Wood saws, buckets, and gangly narrow planks–reverberating at each step– stacked into the garage or across the hot asphalt driveway. In-laws from the north drove down this week, kindly tackling work projects with us. Humid air…

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Lemon and cherry tulips stood in vases tall when I walked into the kitchen, gifts from my man and my look-alike man-child too. “We biked to the store since you had the car,” they breathed heavily, grinning, hair tousled by the gusty wind. “Can we play a game of Speed Scrabble together?” my socialite son…

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It’s the doing it that’s hard. Not the dreaming it — that comes easy. It’s the stepping up, picking up pen, shutting down facebook or the streaming movie, and setting aside the laundry expectations. Picking up pen or pulling close the keyboard, I type keystrokes, then words. Sentences follow, haltingly. Twilight falls, blushing in the…

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I have these verses that run through my mind. You probably have them too. They are the verses that I grab when my thoughts start to stray, or when sin habits rear up strong. They are the verses I whisper to myself while plunging hands into soapy dishwater, staring out the window. The verses I…

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