The rest of the story….

Percival and Augusta**.    Long ago they lived across the street from my family in a small super-modest old home with peeling paint and many many many cats.  And one little dog.   There was a front porch.  There was a back porch.  There’s no trace left of where Percival and Augusta spent their sad life.  But my mind will never lose the image of that home and the couple who lived there. Continue reading “The rest of the story….”

Young. And Old. And Future.

Sixty three years ago on this day, my 15 year old sister loaded up my pregnant mom and my two other sisters in our old car and drove to the hospital 25 miles from home.  My sister’s skills included driving a tractor and she could drive a car, too.    Dad was working, driving a road maintainer for the county. Probably far out in the country on a dirt road and there weren’t cell phones in that day.  He was probably clueless that the whole hospital thing was happening.  I don’t think I was quite due to be born yet. The first and last time I was early for anything.  Continue reading “Young. And Old. And Future.”