Wisdom and whimsy in moderate doses
My family is not Irish. My mother and her siblings all have (or had) red hair, so everyone assumes we’re Irish. We’re not. And we’re not Catholic. So St. Patrick’s Day doesn’t hold any special place for us, really. Except for milk. When we were little, my mother would put green food coloring in a… Continue reading Green milk
Celia Bernice Fulkerson Spillman, 85, of Jamesport, Mo., died Sunday, March 9, 2008, at Wright Memorial Hospital in Trenton, Mo.Mrs. Spillman was born Feb. 22, 1923, in Grundy County, Mo., the daughter of Clarence and Bessie Hoskins Fulkerson. She graduated from Trenton High School and the Platte-Guard Business School in St. Joseph, Mo. She married… Continue reading The obituary
A couple of weeks ago, I had a nightmare. About kittens. In the dream, I was pulling kittens out of the closet in the utility room of my grandmother’s house. There’s one wall of cabinets, and every time I found a kitten and handed it off to some unknown person, she’d put the kitten outside.… Continue reading Kittens
One of my favorite stories with my grandmother: Two years ago, we went to my grandmother’s for a family Christmas. My mother, my sister and her husband and I were there, along with my mother’s sister and her family (husband, three kids, one daughter-in-law and a granddaughter) and their brother and his family (wife and… Continue reading Cheers
While looking for a safe deposit key that my grandmother had somewhere, we made many interesting finds. (I definitely get my pack-rat tendencies from her.) Along with a lot of random jewelry scattered about (some costume, some antique, some just plain scary), a set of (antique) chatter teeth, a series of books that my mother… Continue reading My grandmother, the drug mule