That’s what we all called him, not Grandfather, not even Grandpa, but Grandad Bill.
That’s what we all called him, not Grandfather, not even Grandpa, but Grandad Bill.
My Grandma Ollie was the youngest of 4 sisters – Lesta, Lettie, Bessie, and Ollie.
The Shipley side of my family has a habit of saying, “Well…”, in a thoughtful, drawling sort of way as a catch-all response to almost any kind of conversational interlude.
Just because you can’t prove something exists, does that mean it doesn’t exist? It does not.
After 40-some years of hanging out on the planet it finally occurred to me to wonder where I came from.
Prose, Poetry, Song: three venerable envoys that carry words from our inner musings to the world outside.
The sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them.
There once was a little girl, who wrote a little poem, about a moon that wasn’t there.
What are they? Where are they? Did any such beasts ever exist anywhere at any time?
He was a rake and a ramblin’ boy from the day he first put a paw into this world.
When Alice upbraided Humpty Dumpty on his misuse of a word he replied scornfully, “Words mean just what I choose them to mean – no more, no less”.
I look out the kitchen window. Mr. Cooper Hawk has landed on the railing of my deck.