by Deb Farris | May 19, 2016 | Family, Musings
It’s Saturday morning and the phone rings as I’m making coffee. “Debbie, I can’t find the mattress protector.” Dad bought a new bed this week. “Didn’t you buy one?” “I thought so.” “I’m pretty sure John (my brother) said you did.” “Louis (his friend) put the...
by Deb Farris | Mar 24, 2016 | Musings
It came up out of nowhere. The tall umbrellas, once far from the shoreline, were now nestled in water. The boat headed out had been beaten back, unable to mount it. Specks looking like ants were submerged then reappeared with screams and shouts of laughter. Eighty...
by Deb Farris | Mar 23, 2016 | Musings
I remember that his hand was still warm as I watched my father take it into his own, wrapping it—warmth against warmth. Sometimes that’s all we can do is hold on… And I remember now, the bird with the yellow crown—like the yellow cap my brother wore—which sat in the...
by Deb Farris | Mar 21, 2016 | Musings, Uncategorized
“No, I can’t have my coffee yet,” I say to Todd who is walking all tall and handsome like towards me with a freshly dripped cup of coffee, just the right temperature and color. “I haven’t had my pill yet.” “Which one?” He asks. “Your Hair...
by Deb Farris | Mar 19, 2016 | Musings
She stood waiting, unaware of the world watching. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, her line took on that of a dancer. Fine hair swept off her brow revealed the elegant bone of her cheek pointing upward toward her perfectly placed bow. She was protected by the...
