I don’t claim to be a poet, but sometimes, the story must be told in a poem. I wrote one for a contest, and I’m sharing it with you. It’s based on the real-life event that happened to my great-grandparents. I hope you’ll enjoy my poem. Tornado Alley Mary and

Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others. Philippians 2:4 I HATE being sick. All my life, I’ve been blessed with good health, and I thank God for that everyday. Colds, flu, one bout with strep, and the occasional

As I’ve said before, I spent years journaling. This Mother’s Day, I took out my journals written when my children were very young and reread parts of them. The amazing thing of journaling is the recording of little events that get lost in the cracks of the road of life.

Last week, I talked about journaling and promised to give an excerpt from my own journal. I chose a section from what I wrote on January 26, 2005. Here’s a peek into what I was thinking and feeling over 15 years ago: I am continuing to write on the story

A few weeks ago, my blog covered my many years of journaling (see A Life of Journaling). This past week, I came across an interesting article in a Book Cave newsletter about journaling prompts that gave me new ideas. First of all, journaling is easy. All it takes is a

Hubby and I are staying home these days. Our age and my asthma push us into the high-risk category for COVID-19 so prudence forces us to shelter in place. Our quarantine comes when Hubby is usually busy getting ready for his summer sojourn to South Dakota. For now, that trip

This past week I marked another birthday. I know age is just a number, but when consulting high risk categories for bad things, I’m toeing that line and wondering what lies ahead. I usually get taken to lunch by friends on my birthday and Hubby takes me to places where

March went out like a lion, a lion getting out of a river and shaking himself dry. A strong earthquake hit southwest Idaho the evening of Tuesday, March 31. Hubby and I were watching the end of the local news when we heard a muffled whomp and the house shook.

If you’re like Hubby and me, you’re stuck inside until the invisible storm dies down. From what I hear in the media, it’s dangerous outside. I watch the news about the pandemic, but I can only watch so much. Too much is too much. It’s a sobering awakening to find