Out on a Limb

The white oak trees behind our home produced a bumper crop of acorns last fall. I didn’t think much about it, figuring that such plenty would result in a happy and healthy gray squirrel population. When the tree leaves dropped, our asparagus patch snuggled in for the winter.

Most mornings, I pour myself a cup of coffee and then check my email, the headlines, and Facebook to see who’s having a birthday today so I can send well-wishes. Much of that routine has become grim during the troubled times in which we live.

Yesterday marked the first day of spring. Today's morning walk inspired a haiku trio to start the season out right!

During a recent checkup, my dentist said, “You’ve got great teeth.”

It’s finally over!

Jury service turned out to be a bit of a nothing burger, but still an educational experience.

Late January brought some unusually wintry conditions to our part of the country. Last week, the online weather guy warned folks to be on the alert for “fake spring,” an expression new to me.

Two envelopes arrived in my mailbox one day last week, each with a return address from local county government. The first came from the tax office, notifying me that I’d underpaid my car registration renewal by $7.75. As I opened the second envelope, from the sheriff’s office, I felt pretty sure I wouldn’t be going to jail for the error in my vehicle tag check amount.

Last weekend’s much-hyped ice storm was a dud at our house, thankfully, but it did make considerable mischief in surrounding counties. I am glad to hear that electric service is now restored to most everyone in those areas.

Our rural electric cooperative has been using a helicopter to trim trees along their powerline right-of-way in the neighborhood. My husband and I watched with fascination the rotating blades lower with surgical precision and prune branches on huge oaks, tulip poplars, and pines that line our road. The rotor-generated wind smacked our faces as we shot these photos from our driveway during last week’s subfreezing weather.

"These are the times that try men's souls.The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country;but he that stands it now deserves the love and thanks of man and woman."

I read thirty-four books in 2025, three fewer than last year. The list does not include three books I am currently reading but haven’t finished. I’ve been too scattered and distracted to do much of anything right this year. My new year’s resolution is to focus on the important stuff—getting back to my writing, but (of course) still making time to read.

Blessings to you this day, and hopes for a better 2026.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday because I love being aware of my many blessings and feeling grateful for them. What little family I still have is geographically and relationally distant, but I like sharing gratitude over a special meal with friends.

My award-winning story about the Rosebud Wacipi appears in the latest edition of Masticadores Canada. The piece reminisces about an experience that changed my life forever.

I sleepily padded into the kitchen this morning and poured myself a steaming mug of coffee. Allowing it a few moments to cool, I carried it over to the window and looked out at the new day. Autum leaves drifted down from almost-bare hardwoods, framed against a brilliant azure sky. I love fall.

Dr. W. tapped the scab on my nose with a gloved finger and frowned over the top of his glasses at me.

November is National Memoir Writing Month—not to be confused with the more widely-known but now defunct National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo. Since memoir is what I mostly write, I would be remiss if I neglected mentioning it here and now.