by Carole Duff | May 13, 2024 | Faith, Nature, Writing and Reading |
“Years ago, I could not have imagined a someday like this,” I said to Keith. We were sitting at an outside table on the terrace at the Byers Street Bistro. Later, we would read at the SWAG (Staunton, Waynesboro, Augusta Group) open mic located at SolArt Center...
by Carole Duff | May 6, 2024 | Faith, Nature |
For some reason, the “Fly Away Medley,” which our choir is rehearsing to sing this summer at our historic church location Trinity, is kicking my butt. The medley includes: “I’ll Fly Away,” “We’ll Understand It Better By and By,” “When the Roll is Called Up...
by Carole Duff | Apr 29, 2024 | Faith, Nature, Writing and Reading |
On Friday morning, as I stepped outside with Mac dog into the “almost” at Vanaprastha—almost another day—I heard two barred owls’ spectacular, loud, emphatic calls in the dark before dawn. Ok-ok-ok-ok ok-ok-buhooh, variations of the mnemonic “who cooks for you.” The...
by Carole Duff | Apr 22, 2024 | Dogs & Other Creatures, Faith |
Mac dog sits quietly on the steps, pressing his body against the kitchen door, lonely and afraid. Whenever he “asks” to go outside, he won’t go until Keith or I go with him. Even then, Mac waggles his head back and forth between his need to relieve himself and his...
by Carole Duff | Apr 15, 2024 | Faith, Writing and Reading |
The occupational therapist handed me the instruction sheet and said, “Limit splint removal to hygiene and flute.” Limit, to restrict, the point beyond which something does not or may not extend, a restriction. Not words I like to hear or heed. But this time, it was...
