Tag Archives: letters

Which would you like first?

The good news is it feels much cooler inside our bedroom than it does outside; I saw a woman staring out her window, chin in hands, while a baby pointed and babbled next to her; I am reading two books at once; I have experimented and succeeded at creating a cobbler recipe that your father enjoys (the secret is butter, I should have known); the apple tree is finally fruitful.

The bad news is my hip joints do not have nifty little holes like my sewing machine where I can drip oil as needed; all of the other fruit trees we’ve planted were uprooted in last week’s hurricane; I forgot to buy milk and eggs during my grocery store trip this morning (and now what I actually did buy escapes me. I spent two hours in Kroger that felt more like five minutes); the carburetor is on its last leg, daddy says (and he didn’t laugh when I asked, “No other limbs left to prop it up?” so I know he’s worried); Amy Beth, the girl I was always trying to get you to meet, has died of a swollen heart and now you will never get to meet her (I made her parents a chicken casserole, but they don’t eat meat so your father and I have been eating on it all week and he hasn’t quit griping); I’m reading two books at once and I keep getting the characters and story lines confused.

Write me a letter for once. I’m your mother.

Shameless plug! Check my story “Mother Knows Best” at fwriction:review tomorrow!

What’s Up,

you old war

wagon, how’ve

your tires

held up?

Chin?  Kept that

up? Open grin

still keeping

you young?

alive? full

of deep breaths?

shoulders? sagging?

they got the best of you?

of what you’re giving?

still rocking?  living?

Brad