Be Still!

I grew up as a Catholic girl in dear old St. Martin, a parochial school in Chicago’s Englewood. Each morning started with Mass, which lasted at least 45 minutes. Throughout the service, we had to kneel and stand, and if that wasn’t bad enough, we could not fidget during service. The nuns would give you the dagger-eye that would condemn …


Y’all look! I grew a flower – a huge “Feed me Seymour” flower.  Y’all have to understand, my thumb is anything but green.  I “Oooh” and “Ahhh” over the beautiful flowers y’all post on Faceboobook, and while my deceased husband always took care of our yards with gardens and such, the Taurus earth in me …






















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