When I was growing up in Fort Worth, Texas, our family vacations were precious getaways. Time and money constraints kept us primarily in Texas, but there was plenty to do. During one summer trip to south Texas, we walked across the border to Mexico on a dreadfully sweltering August day.
We’re Not in Kansas Anymore
— Helen Baldwin
Helen Baldwin lives in Jefferson, North Carolina, with her husband, Randy plus their two dogs, a cat, and untold wild critters outside. Their firstborn’s family, including two delightful children, lives just down the road, so she enjoys lots of MomMom time. Helen and Randy have a rental cabin and bees, among numerous other endeavors, so they’ll never be bored. Life took a drastic twist in 1997 when their third baby, Jeffrey, was diagnosed with SMA type 1. Although their active stint with SMA was brief, Helen hopes that sharing and connecting experiences after Jeffrey’s death, usually with optimism, helps others endure the unpredictability of loss and recovery.
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Last Wednesday evening, a double rainbow popped up across the road. We’d had rain to some extent every afternoon and night. The rainbow provided a beautiful bit of calm and was, we hoped, a sign that the rain would be easing up. It turned out to be the calm…
Unlike most days when I draft my column, I had this one all figured out. Recent brain sparks of potential topics provided me with such confidence. I plopped down at the computer earlier than usual on Sunday to tend to a few odds and ends before getting down to the…
Somehow we’re fast approaching June’s final days! As summer continues, plenty of memories dance in my head. Particularly eventful, to put it mildly, was 1997. Our summer that year commenced in mid-May, when our third baby, Jeffrey, arrived two weeks ahead of schedule. As my volunteering stints in the elementary…
Given the hair-raising books and movies I favored growing up, you’d think I’d have uttered a scream at some point. Genuine screams, however, were reserved for roller coasters until my husband, Randy, became a football coach. Then I morphed into a maniac. Granted, I considered my high-decibel screams warranted because…
I celebrated a birthday recently, kicking off the final year of my 60s in memorable fashion. As I got ready at home to join our grandson, James, for a Mother’s Day breakfast in his class at school, I opened the bathroom door. Sprawled out over the entire path was Maple,…
A surprise pregnancy hurled my husband, Randy, and me way off guard in the fall of 1996. There were gasps aplenty when our peeps received the news, as we were both in our 40s and already weary of hawking fundraiser wrapping paper. Our bonus baby, Jeffrey, arrived on May…
In the North Carolina mountains, spring signifies random weather: gorgeous blue skies, rain, wind, thunder, snow, and freeze warnings — sometimes all on the same day. Buds and blossoms are exploding, and the bees are happy. We noticed the annual duck visitation in the pond and spied the first…
Our spring break kicked off on April 6 with an early release for students. I fell into the lengthy car line at 11:30 a.m. to pick up our grandkids, Clara, a first grader, and James, who’s in pre-K. Both had been giddily counting down to this time for days, especially…
Our granddaughter, Clara, sails through her page of first-grade sight words. She guesses wildly at times, but she’s usually quick to sound out most of the new words. I take opportunities to add bits of often-confusing trivia about homonyms, homophones, and homographs and relay some old stories. Clara prefers…
As I tallied the sea of tiny numbers on my tax spreadsheets, I decided to search for some background music on my computer. I love my computer — a gift from my generous family in 2020 — but it doesn’t have a CD drive. Almost all of the music I’d…
Hello, March! Here in the North Carolina mountains, daffodils optimistically poke through the ground; impatient ones bloomed last week. Trees are budding, and flower beds are sporting a bit of green. Forager bees are gathering pollen for the baby bees. With all this popping up and out, you’d think winter…
I have a gift inherited from my late musician mother. Simple melodies or complete orchestral scores, favorite old songs, two-piano music we played, my own original tunes, or a conglomeration of all of the above play inside my head, on demand or out of the blue. James Taylor’s version…
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