Monday Memories

“Grandma, can I excuse the table?” I asked.
Grandma chuckled. “You mean, be excused from the table, dear.”
I nodded and then pushed my chair from the old wooden table.
“Yes, you may, but don’t go too far,” Grandma said. “Go only to the end of the road and then you must turn back.”
“I will.”

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Not So Relieved…

Later, I decided the boxes of bazooka ammunition should go too. As the hatch flew open, I tossed them. They landed with a decisive thud, then a series of cracks and bangs like fireworks as they hit the flinty stone. Not such a clever idea.

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ART? OR WORK?

THE STORY THE CENSUS DOESN’T TELL…       An Artist’s Perspective       Census time again!   As I filled the forms out on line (two days after the due date—another story covered in the media), I had a Eureka moment.   I faced a dilemma regarding the work/employment section with questions: “What’s […]

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ADMIRE

  My “Convict” History   I admire a former convict, an ancestor of mine. Okay, you may think, yeah, of course, she’s an Australian—these days they wear their convict heritage like a badge of honour. No, actually, my great-great grandfather lived in Silesia which is now part of East Germany or Poland today. Rubber borders, […]

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MESSAGE IN TIME…

“Grandma, can I excuse the table?” I asked.
Grandma chuckled. “You mean, be excused from the table, dear.”
I nodded and then pushed my chair from the old wooden table.
“Yes, you may, but don’t go too far,” Grandma said. “Go only to the end of the road and then you must turn back.”
“I will.”

Read more "MESSAGE IN TIME…"