Hiding
It’s a crisp late afternoon and I just put on a pot of tea. I’m watching the first snowfall of the season as the day stretches into dark evening. I’m in a reminiscing mood. Last week, I posted something on…
Emily Enger
Gifts
John came home from work last night with a “surprise.” Apparently he was offered some industrial-strength fridge magnets at work. (See photo below.) He was displeased with my nonchalant thank-you, however. “Why aren’t you more excited that I got you…
Scooped
Scoop: Originally journalistic lingo, it means someone else “dug up” a story before you did. We stumbled into the porch, our arms laden with bags. John was carrying his big work satchel/computer and a million little things he’d needed at…
Carrots
We had a fight. Like most fights, it ended about something different than what it began with. Like most fights, I couldn’t tell you what it was about even if I did want to broadcast it to the world. It…
Discernment
The wife of a reporter learns to adapt in many ways. She gets accustomed to him working weekends. She pleasantly pauses their movie when his phone rings. She never expects him home on time. She accepts that her reputation is…
Advice
Today is our second anniversary. Now that I am a wise, old married woman with some years under her belt, I decided to compose a list of all the things I’d tell myself if I could go back to the…
Traditions & Memories
On a bleak December day 70 years ago, my grandfather jumped from a ruined B-17, a cold Minnesota farm boy tumbling from the sky into occupied Greece. That image is hard for me to picture because I remember him stooped,…