by Deb Farris | Feb 16, 2019 | Musings
I want to hold on to this day, the hours within it, the moments as they unfold, reminding me of days spent in the golden wheat fields of my childhood. I would lie in tall grass, my face up to a ceiling of amorphous clouds, white against blue, transparent and opaque,...
by Deb Farris | Jan 26, 2019 | Musings, Travels
Are you supposed to use the airport check-in computers or can you just go straight to the counter? I’m never sure. I seemed to remember having a few issues in the past so I bypassed them altogether until I could ask someone. “You can come forward.” The attendant said....
by Deb Farris | Nov 1, 2018 | Musings, Pets
I really thought I was getting this down to a science… Walk in back door. Feed Fannie, carry Sam outside. Let him sniff. Move fast to add second load of wash. Leash Fannie. Grab baggies and treats as Fannie flings jubilantly around ankles and prances out the...
by Deb Farris | Oct 19, 2018 | Memoir, Musings, Poetry
I think the pumpkins are going to make it this year. There must be enough in the neighborhood to keep the squirrels eating courses, traveling from house to house like we’ve always wanted to do ourselves: first course at Winnie’s, second at Connelly’s , third at...
by Deb Farris | Aug 23, 2018 | Musings
Little tree, I do meet perchance, strolling on a summer day. Your fruit so plentiful, branches loaded, you are a picture of abundance. But what of these limbs when winter bare? Stark and colorless, no billowing form to shade this ground. Harvest complete, or so it...