A family grows yet forever stays the same

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For years our two families went to the same church. The Thomas pew was down front on the right and ours was in the row behind them. They filled an entire pew because even 30 years ago there were a lot of them. I can picture them as they were: George and Barbara, the parents, old to me then, but not old to me now, sitting in their place at the end of the pew. Caryn, their eldest, was beside them. Then came Cheryl, Susan, George and Pam.

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Examining old fantasy shows hidden riches of modern life

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I used to have this fantasy, when my children were small, that one day I would walk into the kitchen and it would be clean. Scrubbed clean, the way my mother used to do her kitchen. Not just a quick wipe here and a spray of Windex there, but waxed and "Jubileed" to high gloss, the counters free of stuff, the curtain washed and starched. Starch. Now that's a word from another era. It was blue and you added it to the wash during the final rinse and…

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Last summer of the century is one for the record books

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Last summer of the century is one for the record books

I didn't hear the song a single time this summer, but it played in my head anyway, buzzing around like a pesky bee: "Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer." Nat King Cole's smooth-as-honey voice trailing me all the way through June, July and August. Most years summer never lives up to this song. This year the song didn't have a prayer of living up to summer.

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