Author name: Mary Ann

I spent the morning in our crawl space going through box after box looking for old photographs of our kids when they were babies. Anyone beside me have packets full of unmarked photos from forgotten vacations, ancient Christmases, birthdays where you hardly recognize yourself?

He was there the day I was born. I wasn’t able to see him but I could feel his presents. Come to think of it, I actually don’t know of a time when I wasn’t aware of him even if only in the background of my life, occasionally blocking the tracks I was screaming down

We gathered around the first beach fire of the summer last night. Not a giant roaring bon-fire, but a fire big enough to keep us warm, yet small enough for safety. The stars and the moon were out. Moonlight reflected across the water from one end of the bay to the other. There was no

I’ve been gone a while. I think a little too long, actually. Stepping through the front door last night was like slipping back into my own skin.  Oh my, how good it feels! Travel is wonderful for many reasons but sometimes I think the most important reason is the appreciation it gives me for home.

My father sang a special song to me when I was a child, as I dug moats around my sand-castles and designed dixie-cup turrets atop the castle walls. I’ll never forget the day I heard the song being played on the radio. I’d had the idea my father had made it up, just for me.

At a recent family gathering, it was brought to my attention how so many of us come into the world with a malfunctioning filter. I was amazed by the number of times the women had to stop the men mid-sentence to remind them to put their filters on. Some of the men were apparently born