The Keeper

The Keeper

Until now Mallory had never questioned her birthright, her duty to her brothers, to the lighthouse, or all whom it was meant to protect. This storm, though, was different. It nudged something inside her, as if a boulder had been pushed away from a hidden cave entrance. “No, don’t go in there!” Mallory cried as she lay on the cold, wet floor, still dazed by the effort of having gotten herself inside.

Indy 500 In My Blood

Indy 500 In My Blood

A. J. Foyt was a multiple-year winner of the Indy 500 and I remember one year when I was maybe 7 or 8 years old watching on TV as he went into the winner’s circle and someone handed him a glass bottle of milk, of which he took a swig and poured the rest over his head. This made no sense to me at all. I turned to my dad and asked him, “Why is he drinking milk? If I’d just driven that race and I was really thirsty at the end of it I wouldn’t want to drink milk! I’d want a Coke!”

My dad’s reply? “I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?”

Not A Monster

Not A Monster

After he wiped a few laughter tears from his cheeks, Slim Jim looked all around at the crowd of pranksters (prankster being one particular variant of monster) and he said, still laughing, “Smorgasbord! That’s perfect, ya know why? Because the word ”smorgasbord” is Swedish and my great-grandmother on my mother’s side was Swedish, isn’t that fun? It’s as if you guys looked right up into my family tree and pulled on the perfect branch to find me a new name!”

Apples to Applesauce
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Apples to Applesauce

These days my applesauce is better than ever. I’ve not added any kind of sugar or syrup to my applesauce (other than the red-hots) since I first started making my own in college, because the apples I use are plenty sweet enough. The simplest applesauce is merely a combination of apples and water – – what kind of apples depends on what’s available and personal tastes. My own favorite varieties are Fuji, Jonathan and Honeycrisp, but Gala and Red Delicious make perfectly good applesauce or you can add some green apples for a finish that’s more tart.

Skating Through Thanksgiving

Skating Through Thanksgiving

It was a while before Aida discovered those other possibilities – – like the swimming, dancing, climbing kinds – – because when she wasn’t in school she was always in her skates, always on the ice, always trying new tricks, trying to go faster, testing the limits of physics, geometry, gravity and of her own body. The other kids couldn’t understand…well, the kids at school couldn’t understand, but the kids at the ice rink were just like her, so they became her friends, at least for a few years until some of them got so competitive that their interest in medals outweighed their ability to relate to their peers.

Dancing Leaves
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Dancing Leaves

No doubt the trees have been more relieved than usual to release their leafy burdens this year, and the leaves even moreso to relinquish their duties on behalf of their woody parental stems and trunks. As the truck moved along the road in front of me this morning, keeping to the 20-mile-per-hour speed limit, the leaves covering the road it crossed were ecstatic in the dance that they danced for my eyes only.

In the Exam Room

In the Exam Room

It took a great deal of cajoling, but finally, at long last, and only with the promise that she could observe his interactions with her son from behind a one-way-window, Jasper convinced her to allow him a few precious moments alone with the little boy. Jasper sat across from him, leaning forward to make sure the boy would both hear him, assuming he could hear, and could read his lips, if indeed the boy had learned to do that by now.