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Christmas in the Mountains

Five days after the funeral, she drove up into the Appalachians to the cabin. She hadn't been here since ... well, since Peter had grown ill a year ago. There just hadn't been time for such things. The past twelve months had been a roller coaster--all those ups followed by such disheartening downturns, and just as they were learning to cope with the lows, then along came more highs to make their spirits soar, even if only for a day or two or three.
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published on November 30, 2003

Roses Are...

Every June I throw open my garden gates to my neighbors. I am especially fond of the younger people coming to see the fruits of my spring labors. And in June, of course, my roses bloom. What started out as a handful of bushes years ago now numbers dozens and dozens. Tangerine and pink, crimson and ivory, butterscotch and coral, as well as every hue in between. Hybrid tea, floribunda, ramblers, miniature, species, and shrub ... I have them all.
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published on May 31, 2003

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