Prose Last month I shared the poetic version of the story of my father's accident when I was in kindergarten. This month I want to share the prose version. It's a chapter from the memoir I'm working on--oh, so slowly! The chapter titled "Evon" is named for the road we lived on then. Memoir My daughters have encouraged me to write 21: Growing Up . It will chronicle the twenty-one different addresses at which I lived through age twenty-one. In 1958, my family moved to 1600 Evon

Christmas is a time of celebrating the birth of Jesus. In the Boniface family, we make merry with a cardamom yeast loaf we've dubbed "the Christmas bread." There's a special story behind the bread--the story of when my father nearly died. I was in kindergarten at the time. Memoir Next month I plan to share that story with you. It's one of the chapters of my life I've been writing for my memoir. First, however, I want to share the poetic version. Why? Because it was just feat

1st On our first wedding anniversary I presented my husband with our firstborn. I quipped, "The baby's all we can afford." It wasn't all though. I also gave him a poem written in four-line stanzas. While "Ishi" conforms to a regular meter, it rhymes irregularly. Since I'd just concluded my first year of teaching English, literature occupied my mind. I've footnoted for those of you who aren't familiar with the allusions. Ishi [1]   One year has lapped our bank of love, Ishi,

Culinary masters are known for their "secret sauce." It's their unique combination of high-quality ingredients, refined techniques, and deep understanding of flavor layering. Chocolate Cake Growing up, I frequently indulged in “Currey Cake.” I wanted seconds and thirds every time cupcakes popped out of the oven, wafting their sweet aroma. They were delectable – even without frosting! As a family, we guarded my Grandmother Currey’s recipe, never sharing it with others. We esp