And then I stopped!

A Stork, probably blinded by ice and snow flying through the European Alps without a GPS system, finally dropped me at the house of my parents 56 years ago.

Wordless Wednesday

Free Haircuts? Anybody?

One of the rare occasions I will show myself. Banged up knee, no front teeth, one of Grandma’s ridiculous haircuts, yet the boy on my side could not resist my charm and became my boyfriend for one summer.

Lent Memories

Lent was a big deal in our Catholic boarding school. 40 days of fasting was the motto, which didn’t bother us too much, we were used to it. Boarding school food is a bit like hospital food, and fasting comes naturally.

Fair Trial or Fairy Tale?

Going back in time, I recall our short vacations in Italy. Remember, I was born and raised >>>here<<<. Right after lunch, before the shops closed during the hot afternoons, one of us kids was sent to a magazine stand to pick up a German or Austrian newspaper, which by then was three days old. We lived! Nothing was so dramatic back then.

It’s snowing

It started snowing last night. I felt it when I woke up. The darkness outside was brighter, the silence quieter and my soul smiled. 

Get To Know Him – Friday Fictioneers

Photography Douglas M. MacIlroy

I didn’t like our neighbor, he frightened me.

“Get to know him,” my Grandmother had advised me and that’s why I was standing here and watched this cruel man holding a tiny bird.

One Chance

 

“We are surrounded every day by the wonders of life, wonders beyond comprehension that we simply take for granted. I decided that day that I would live my life—not simply exist. If I died and discovered heaven on the other side, well, that’d be just fine and dandy. But if I didn’t live my life as if I was already in heaven, and I died and found only nothingness, well…I would have wasted my life. I would have wasted my one chance in all of history to be alive.”
― Allen Eskens, The Life We Bury

The Soldiers Who Came Home

They all greeted my Grandmother nicely, paid respect to her and connected through her with a friend, who wasn’t there anymore. I sat quietly beside her and listened to the stories these men had to tell. 

Always a Mountain Girl -Friday Fictioneers

 

Photography by Sarah Potter

 

Every snowflake is unique, just like the memories they bring.

Faces of kids are dancing around me, I can hear the laughter, I can feel the joy.