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My Smelly Reputation
The janitor, spray can in hand, looked around my fourth grade classroom. “Did a snake escape and die in some corner?” “No, I don’t think so.” I breathed through my mouth to avoid the smell. A girl had recently brought in a grass snake in an uncovered container. As the reptile slithered its way up the side of the bowl, I told her she’d have to take it out to the school garden. I was called to the office, and I’m pretty sure the snake made it outside. Ninety percent sure, anyway. The janitor left to see if he had…
Message Received
Several years ago my daughter Heather and I visited a friend’s lovely flower garden. The friend commented that she hadn’t yet seen a monarch. Minutes later, one appeared. It sipped nectar from an orange and black coreopsis. My daughter and I exchanged looks. Butterflies are important symbols in our family. The day of my mother’s funeral my aunt was visiting out in her yard near the Japanese lilac she’d planted in memory of her husband. This was the first time the tree had bloomed since it had been planted five years ago. My aunt happened to glance at the tree.…
The Cast Iron Skillet
In August my sister Rachel and I had the chance to spend several days together. We were bound to talk about childhood memories, our deceased parents, and the difficult task we faced when dealing with their possessions. “I wish we hadn’t given Goodwill the old cast iron skillet,” my sister said, while helping prepare lunch in the kitchen. “I’d love to have that back.” “That old thing that was so hard to clean?” I pulled out one of the new coated pans. My sister smiled. “We never did really wash it. We’d just wipe it out with a paper towel…
The Cast Iron Skillet
In August my sister Rachel and I had the chance to spend several days together. We were bound to talk about childhood memories, our deceased parents, and the difficult task we faced when dealing with their possessions. “I wish we hadn’t given Goodwill the old cast iron skillet,” my sister said, while helping prepare lunch in the kitchen. “I’d love to have that back.” “That old thing that was so hard to clean?” I pulled out one of the new coated pans. My sister smiled. “We never did really wash it. We’d just wipe it out with a paper towel…
The Cast Iron Skillet
In August my sister Rachel and I had the chance to spend several days together. We were bound to talk about childhood memories, our deceased parents, and the difficult task we faced when dealing with their possessions. “I wish we hadn’t given Goodwill the old cast iron skillet,” my sister said, while helping prepare lunch in the kitchen. “I’d love to have that back.” “That old thing that was so hard to clean?” I pulled out one of the new coated pans. My sister smiled. “We never did really wash it. We’d just wipe it out with a paper towel…
The Cast Iron Skillet
In August my sister Rachel and I had the chance to spend several days together. We were bound to talk about childhood memories, our deceased parents, and the difficult task we faced when dealing with their possessions. “I wish we hadn’t given Goodwill the old cast iron skillet,” my sister said, while helping prepare lunch in the kitchen. “I’d love to have that back.” “That old thing that was so hard to clean?” I pulled out one of the new coated pans. My sister smiled. “We never did really wash it. We’d just wipe it out with a paper towel…
The Cast Iron Skillet
In August my sister Rachel and I had the chance to spend several days together. We were bound to talk about childhood memories, our deceased parents, and the difficult task we faced when dealing with their possessions. “I wish we hadn’t given Goodwill the old cast iron skillet,” my sister said, while helping prepare lunch in the kitchen. “I’d love to have that back.” “That old thing that was so hard to clean?” I pulled out one of the new coated pans. My sister smiled. “We never did really wash it. We’d just wipe it out with a paper towel…
The Cast Iron Skillet
In August my sister Rachel and I had the chance to spend several days together. We were bound to talk about childhood memories, our deceased parents, and the difficult task we faced when dealing with their possessions. “I wish we hadn’t given Goodwill the old cast iron skillet,” my sister said, while helping prepare lunch in the kitchen. “I’d love to have that back.” “That old thing that was so hard to clean?” I pulled out one of the new coated pans. My sister smiled. “We never did really wash it. We’d just wipe it out with a paper towel…
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