Adult nonfiction

The Purrfect Salad

     My tabby’s ears twitch when the refrigerator door creaks. In the time to grab two vine-ripened tomatoes and a crisp head of lettuce, my furry gray companion, Twilight, leaps onto the ledge above the kitchen counter. She seats herself as if in a prized theater box. From this vantage point, Twilight watches me like a celebrity chef. Together we begin our evening salad-making ritual.   

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The Red Bucket

My new neighbors own a red bucket. Their house is mint green. I mention this because if it was Christmas green I might not have had a problem.  Who doesn’t like cheery holiday combinations? And, for the record, I purposely do not live in a community with HOA rules I could never obey.

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Fuchsia Fantasy

I was hand-on-heart hypnotized at my first sight of a flowering fuchsia in Grandville, France. Hundreds of delicate blooms covered the manicured grounds of the childhood home, now a museum, of fashion designer Christian Dior. The purple and pink blossoms whirled in the ocean breeze like miniature ballerinas en pointe. 

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Low-Tech Memory Sticks

Through the years, I’ve used peanut butter jars, flower vases, and even a beer mug to store pencils. These days my son’s ceramic dinosaur holds the honor. 

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Literary Ladies Go Political

Sixteen years ago I discovered the Literary Ladies: a small group of women who read a wide variety of fiction. I joined so I could be whisked away from day-to-day realities of war, the rising crime rate, and politics.  

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Six Pink Balloons

     “What can I bring?” I imagined ordering a cake or purchasing flowers.     The host of the party made a simple request. “Six pink helium balloons.”     To me, helium balloons represent latex spheres that threaten to explode at any moment with frightening force, accompanied by ear-piercing blasts.

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The Year Love Bloomed

Birthdays come and go, 

but I will remember this one forever.

The Year Love Bloomed

“Flowers are easy.” With angry kitchen shears, I lopped off stems from the innocent red blooms.

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