Confessions of a DInk Pro

Confessions of a DInk Pro

My father used to like to putter (my mother’s term) and he did it well though many years of retirement, relishing the busy-ness he alone could create, free of the demands and constraints of other people’s demands via work, but always guided by purpose. He...
First Daughter

First Daughter

The first born daughter is always the female version of her dad. Father’s Day celebrations approach and I’m sad that my dad isn’t alive. Yet he’s not forgotten, forever in my heart. We brought him to California a year after my mother died (see...
Limerick Gifted I Am…

Limerick Gifted I Am…

Hickory Dickory Dock The mouse ran up the clock The clock struck one Down he run Hickory Dickory Dock is the first limerick structure and it’s embedded in a nursery rhyme we’ve all known for years. While it has the beats, the rhyme doesn’t follow the...
Life as a Miracle: My Mother Speaks Up

Life as a Miracle: My Mother Speaks Up

My mother was known for speaking her mind, a trait that I apparently inherited – read on! That particular day, it was good thing was that I was painting my mother’s fingernails. My head was bent to the task, so I didn’t look up. But I could hear. The...