by Deb Farris | Jul 4, 2018 | Memoir, Musings, Poetry
There is a place we used to go every summer, where wind blows off the lake, cooling sun-parched skin from day’s labor, where deer nibble on grass outside your window, where children with toughened feet run gleefully across a stoney beach, anxious for fireworks. There...
by Deb Farris | Jun 23, 2018 | Memoir, Musings, Poetry
I place my notebook down on the table, then pick it up again, to lay it back down. I walk away and walk back, passing it by only to return. The words inside are scrambled, my mind spins a yolk–an embryo of thoughts all stuck together. Then it finally occurs to...
by Deb Farris | Aug 6, 2016 | Family, Uncategorized
A lot of miles were put on Volkswagons in our family—from Bugs to Carmen Ghias to Westfalia Vans—Dad loved them. My parents made many trips to Tucson in their white Westfalila to visit my sister and her family. Dad, the Eagle Scout, liked to camp, Mom liked hotels....
by Deb Farris | Jun 19, 2016 | Family, Musings
The storm passed through in the night and I didn’t even notice. I woke up this morning and the light in Dad’s room was on. He was sitting up reading his devotions as he used to do. He hasn’t been able to sit up on his own for a while....
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...
