Who Put the Butter in Butterfly?

Inquiring Minds want to Know . . . Who Put the Butter in Butterfly? a book that survived my Great Book Purge of 2016, was a birthday gift from the Dean of Liberal Arts at my college in 1993. It is billed as“compulsive reading for anyone incurably curious about the...

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Aunt Ruthie as a 100-year old: Her Diary Speaks

My Aunt Ruthie died at age 98 1/2, so she never reached 100, a goal I sensed she hoped for in her healthy years. But she did celebrate birthdays on October 4 every year before then. Some happily in elder days.     Other celebrations had mixed results as her diary from...

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What Editing Looks Like: A Peek into Memoir

I’ve been writing memoir for 3 ½ years now, three more if you count years spent blogging snippets that have become memoir chapters.. Truthfully, I’m ready for this part of the process to end. And it will soon. The Tricky Mind Since 2015, I’ve taken memoir-writing...

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Wordless Wednesday

What are these sisters sitting upon? The location? Era? How are the two photos related? *** Do these pictures evoke a memory for you? suggest a story? Share memories of a special family vacation. The Worldometer registers about six million blog posts being published...

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The Runaway Truck: A Guest Post

    Daddy & I and the Big Truck I raced across the porch and jumped up into the big truck. Daddy and I headed up through Harrisburg past the street where sometimes we picked up big farm equipment like a tractor or combine. Today the truck pointed north toward the...

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Remembering Brother Mark’s Birthday

My brother Mark would have turned 65 last week on August 30, an age that often comes with the privileges of retirement, senior discounts, and leisure. He never reached that milestone here on earth. God called him to his heavenly home on May 22, 2018. On his 64th...

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Real Men Wear Aprons and Make Flan

Two Beaman families enjoyed Mexican fare at Chuy’s, a Fifties-themed restaurant where patrons can observe hand-rolled tortillas being tossed in air and prepared for the table. When our orders were delivered, we stuffed ourselves with tacos, enchiladas, and burritos....

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The Case of the Missing Sock

The Lost Sock “Look what I found!” my housemate exclaimed in his throaty voice. He held up a single dark sock. Grinning at me, he added, "Here's something you've been looking for since last year!" "Oh, my goodness! Where in the world did you find it?" "It was on my...

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Women and the Grain Harvest

"In a long, low cutaway view of a farmhouse at harvestime," women fuel men with food, supplying energy for harvesting grain under the summer sun. The two genders work in tandem to complete the cycle of food production, farm to table.     Iowan artist Grant Wood, best...

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Memoir Progress: Peaks and Valleys

Writing a book is a long, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven by some demon one can neither resist nor understand.                 ~ George Orwell Orwell is right about the...

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Aunt Ruthie’s Diary and My Birthday

I don’t remember my first birthday. Can anyone recall that far back in time? But I do remember the highchair because all four of us children used it. And I remember the backyard at my parents’ house, the clothesline, and of course the outhouse, in later years guarded...

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Jenna A Thirteenth Birthday

Jenna is our only grand daughter. This July she turns thirteen. She is still very girly, but she is growing up fast and now prefers a more sophisticated look.   Once upon a time, this little girl was a three-year-old princess. She woke up in the morning, got out of...

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Come to Bible School Every Evening of the Week

Come to Bible School, come to Bible school, every evening of the week, come to Bible school . . . Always be on time, always be on time . . . Watermelon, Hires homemade root beer floats, and swimming in a farm pond with mud on the bottom, squishy between our toes –...

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Memoir Moment with Mom in the Tobacco Field

This is a photograph of my mother, Ruth Longenecker, in the tobacco field located in our family’s acreage in Bainbridge, Pennsylvania seven miles from our home. Until the photo was restored, I did not realize the presence of a figure in middle distance, who I’m...

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Morning Ablution, What’s Your Routine?

Here’s the true secret of life: We mostly do everything over and over. In the morning, we let the dogs out, make coffee, read the paper, help whoever is around get ready for the day. We do our work. In the afternoon, if we have left, we come home, put down our keys...

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Brother Mark: His Life in Pictures

At Mark's funeral, a church friend recalled his wisdom. The friend, who admitted to have complained about something trivial at the time, heard Mark say, "Oh, it's not so bad. We're just passing through this life!" My brother passed through this life and left his mark....

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