I’ve become my mother
Simmer down! Don’t get yourself in such a dither! I’ve heard my mother say both of those phrases. Her voice, as well as her sayings, had a way of calming…
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755
1,056 square feet. Two bedrooms. One bath. Built in 1950. Original family owners. It’s a simple description for a realtor to describe her … but there’s so much more. She…
My dear Jake . . .
A few weeks ago, I wrote a story about my grandson, Jake, and his best friend, Logan, and how they had been friends since they were three years old. They…
Not mine to fix
My name is Janet, and I am a bona fide, certifiable “fixer.” If there were cards for “fixers,” mine would be Platinum. Bring me your problems, dilemmas, situations, and brokenness,…
Love it or let it go?
This has been the summer of purging and cleaning out at the Little House on the Alley. It’s been brutal. My brain tells me to let go, but my heart…
When fear is real
False evidence appearing real. FEAR. My first recollection of being afraid of something was while riding my cherry red heavy metal tricycle. I was three years old. My mother would…
My sacred place
It’s not at an altar. It’s not even in a church. But the place is sacred. It is at my kitchen table. Just a few days ago, I sat there…
Homecoming then & now
By JANET HART LEONARD From the Hart We had joy. We had fun. We enjoyed so many seasons in the sun. In the fall of 1967, Noblesville Junior High School…
Catching fish … & words
What is said to a child will not only be heard with his ears but with his heart. The heart chamber is full of echoes from words spoken to a…
Don’t be ugly!
My cousin and I were about four or five years old. I thought it was my turn to write on her chalkboard. She would not give up her place in…