Years ago, a friend laughed when I mentioned “anti-aging” products. Now we can find them everywhere. She laughed because aging is inevitable. We can’t buy things to prevent it. Although we sure try.

These days, my Instagram feed often includes The Gerontologist by Dr. Kerry Burnright. I’m in love with her 97-year-old mother, Betty. Dr. Burnright has written a book called Joyspan, which advocates enjoying life at any age. My favorite IG post was the one where her mother gave up OT and PT and cleared everything off her calendar but her children and grandchildren. What? No “anti-aging?” Nope. Healthy food and exercise are important, but we can’t lose focus on what it’s all for: appreciating the things and people we love.

What I’m Crafting

I’ve made this ruffled wrap before, and it works up nicely with worsted weight yarn. It involves a technique called “wrap and turn” where you wrap yarn around a stitch and turn the project around. I love the variegated colors. Who will it be for? Or for whom will it be??

It could be a gift or an item for sale at a fundraiser. We shall see. Meanwhile, I’ll be adding it to my stash of finished products.

What I’m Writing

At a recent signing of my time-travel novels for the Frenchtown Bookshop, a great indie store in New Jersey, I picked up a copy of Suleika Jaouad’s The Book of Alchemy. (She’s local! And married to composer and musician Jon Batiste, so he is local too!)

Jaouad is a big fan of journaling. Her book is a collection of 100 essays about writing, each one with a prompt to write your own words. I started this practice this summer. It’s fun, and I expect to turn some of these prompts into longer pieces for publication.

If you like to write, take a look at this. Plus, the cover is gorgeous!

Where I’m Walking

Steve and I took a day trip to Morris Arboretum, a 92-acre public garden in the northwest corner of Philadelphia called Chestnut Hill. It was amazing, fulfilling, restorative, and inspiring, even in the August heat. The clerk in the Gift Shop asked me what my favorite part was: the model train layout! It’s decorated with tiny replicas of historic local buildings from 1776 and meanders through the shade. And also the rose garden. And the rock wall garden. And the flower walk…so much to see and explore!

How is August in your corner of the world? Are you living your best Joyspan?

My hometown’s zip code is 10210, but just a slip of the hand on the envelope could send my letter “home” across the country, to the West Coast, where movie stars lived in Beverly Hills, 90210. In my teens, my girlfriends and I bought movie magazines at the corner drugstore. The stars we read about lived beautiful lives in a magical place. We idolized them and tried to replicate their looks, twisting our hair into rollers, curlers, or chemical permanent waves.

We didn’t have zip codes back then. My sister and I slept side by side in Hollywood Beds, twin beds with sparkly plastic headboards, likely meant to evoke the look of a movie star’s bedroom. They were nice beds, but I’m grateful they stayed in 10210 throughout my teenage years. Or is it 12010…20120…

What I’m Reading

Surprisingly, several members of my book club did not like this one. “Too contrived,” they said. Like a Hallmark movie. Self-published (at first.)

I liked it. A lot. I enjoyed the time I spent reading it, and will keep it on my shelf to reread someday, maybe when I need to be among gentle, kind, and loving people. Perhaps that’s why it’s such a big hit. We have a shortage of kindness in America, or maybe we just don’t see it because it’s overshadowed by the public displays of cruelty.

What I’m Writing

Working on some contemplative essays prompted by the book Writing and Being. Done with longform projects for now, I am enjoying the freedom of noodling around in my brain for what I think. Joan Didion once said: “I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means.” That last part: what it means doesn’t come until she/I do the thinking, looking and seeing.

What I’m Crafting

I pulled out this kit from Villa Rosa Designs that has been in my stash for a couple of years, at least. I started it on July 4th and enjoyed arranging the side pieces randomly, feeling creative even though I was following a pattern. It’s easy, contemplative, and ready for the backing I ordered online from Shabby Fabrics. My favorite kind of project, something I plan to finish soon.

Where I’m Walking

The July Tree of the Month in the newly designated Arboretum at the Pearl Buck Estate, where I am a volunteer, is the Franklinia. Named after Benjamin Franklin, it’s planted at the gravesite of Pearl Buck, and because it must be cultivated, it’s a symbol of resilience. If you’re ever in Southeastern PA, it’s worth a trip to walk around this peaceful 65 acres with 55 varieties of labeled trees.

Until next time, I wish you the ease of a summer afternoon, however you choose to spend it.

I spent my working days in corporate America, where we were told to “work smarter, not harder.” We were also told that we were entering “the paperless society.” Yes, I am that old. I have no idea what young working people are told these days. I could ask my sons, who are doing well in the midst of careers they love. Yet, I don’t want to know. “Doing nothing” is calling me as I complete eight decades of life.

The younger me would have been appalled. She had to be productive all the time, even if it meant writing reports that would be discarded or finding answers to nonsense questions. Everything was so “important.” I guess it was, but I’m past all that now.

I’m letting go of the “doing” and allowing the “being.”

What I’m Reading

The Correspondent by Virginia Evans. Isn’t everyone? I’m so happy for this “debut” novelist who wrote seven unpublished novels before this one. It’s been chosen by both my book clubs. It’s inspiring folks to buy stationery and write longhand missives. If you remember writing letters “home,” you’ll like this story about a rather cranky older woman. Yes, I can relate.

What I’m Writing

Since Time is a Pilgrim came out early this year, I’ve been tinkering with drafts of personal essays, some long in gestation, some just started yesterday. What I love most about writing is the revision process, when I have something to work with, polish, and improve. I’ve taken many classes and workshops over the years, and I’ve collected books on craft that are full of good advice. I promised myself not to buy any more and practice what I’ve learned. Which, it turns out, is quite a lot.

David Trawinski, who has written his own wonderful series of historical fiction, gave me a nice review in the Polish American Journal. Here’s a short excerpt:

“This novel is a truly enjoyable read and skillfully weaves the culture, superstitions, and providence of nineteenth-century Poland into the fabric of the story’s arc [where] Faith often demands…rebirth through an alignment of time, true friendship, and love.”

What I’m Crafting

With the hot summer upon us, who wants a heavy wool blanket on their needles? Not me! I took up some light green cotton yarn my daughter-in-law brought back from China and started knitting a facecloth. It’s a simple enough pattern to work on when my mind is preoccupied, with a pretty new stitch to learn. Maybe I’ll manage to make more than one!

Where I’m Walking

On the beach! We spent last week at our happy place, Brigantine, New Jersey. It was the most relaxing of all the ten years we’ve visited, maybe because we have seen all the ‘sights’ and know what we like: the restaurants, the lookout, the wildlife sanctuary, the ice cream shop…and so we don’t need to check it all out. I fulfilled my promise to myself to walk on the beach every morning and evening. The first morning, I took a chair and a book and sat watching the waves and the gulls for an hour or so. “Or so” because who keeps track of time on such a day?

This “doing nothing” stuff is hard. And hard stuff makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something, which is what I’ve been practicing all my life. So here I go, back at it: doing nothing.

The month of May is a sort of gateway between spring and summer, which has me thinking of another May and a real gate I won’t forget. 

Walking in Cornwall on slippery cliff paths in a light rain, I imagined I was Jane Eyre or Heathcliff’s Kathy or Emily Brontë, or really, any mysterious and long-ago Englishwoman. 

Here in the UK, my soul bonded with the dramatically beautiful landscape, the wind in my hair, the sun sparkling on the sea below the dirt path. Rocky cliffs stood high above the blue-green waves, crashing against gigantic boulders. Open meadows bloomed with yellow gorse and bluebells as I reveled in this world so far from home, a world where I felt a sense of belonging, as if I were contained within the fields, the farms, the low buildings. But unlike Jane, Kathy, or Emily, I was far from alone. My husband and about twenty Brits walked these paths with me, sometimes silent, and sometimes talking about the weather, the scene, or the next rest stop.

Our home base for one week was an old stone manor house staffed by bald, unsmiling Eastern European men who reminded me of the villains in a James Bond movie. Our guide was a retired teacher “for my sins,” a man with light hair and a trim build, doubtless from all the walking. One afternoon, he led us to what he called “a kissing gate.” Steve gave me a quick kiss as we went through. “Very nice”, said our affable guide, “but it’s so named because of the way the two parts of the gate meet.”

A kissing gate, it seems, allows people, but not livestock, to pass through. This one was rectangular and built of aluminum with the free end trapped between its arms. When the gate touched an arm, it had to be pushed to pass through and then pulled to exit. The name comes from the gate merely “kissing” (or lightly touching) the inside of the enclosure, forming a reliable barrier rather than needing to be latched after each use. This explanation was for our benefit, not for the British travelers who were waiting patiently for us to move so they could pass through next. 

A gate is an opportunity. It is a portal to the next meadow, or another way of living. For Steve and me, the kissing gate was a base touch. And one of many!

What I’m Reading

I went to the public library to pick up the next book club read - more about that next time! - and my eye was drawn to the New Arrivals shelf. There, my hand drifted to a copy of My Beloved by Jan Karon. If you are familiar with her Mitford series, set in a small town and featuring a retired minister and a cast of quirky characters, you know as well as I did that this would be a comfort read, and it does not disappoint. A love letter gets misplaced and travels around town, leading to confusion, hope, and mystery for its sweet and sour characters, all of whom deserve to be called beloved.

What I’m Crafting

We could call this “comfort knitting.” Not in the mood for learning a new technique or pattern, I picked up this beautiful variegated yarn and started an easy blanket, which I’ll probably donate to our local hospice, where it may bring comfort to someone else. It’s also good for “comfort TV,” as I often knit in the evening while watching my favorite PSB mystery series, currently Bookish.

What I’m Writing

Lots of marketing letters, emails, and outlines for book talks. And this Substack. Also polishing up some personal essays. I have a few dozen of these in my files. It’s short form but creative, which satisfies me at the moment. Here’s a link to an old favorite, in honor of Mother’s Day: Late Blessing.

What bases are you touching this month? Does May remind you of a gateway in your life?

Early this month, I walked out of our garage one morning to fill the bird feeders and noticed something different. The smells were sharp and fresh and new, and as familiar as my heartbeat. The light was warmer and brighter. The everlasting snowpile at the end of the driveway was less hard and icy. Water ran out from under the piled-up whiteness. I thought of my childhood in Amsterdam, and the first days of spring, fresh and new. I was young then, in the middle of the 20th century. I liked walking to Partyka’s Woods, where Mayapples bloomed on a hillside. For a moment, the cheerfully insistent bird songs and the sharp, tangy smell of earth in the sunlight time-traveled me there.

What I’m Reading

I’m not a fan of dystopian fiction but my book club chose to read A Children’s Bible by Lydia Millet, who writes of a future when climate change will cause a flood of biblical proportions. Affluent parents are staying in a vacation rental. The parents are oblivious. It’s up to the children to save themselves. Well-written, thought-provoking and scary. Which I think is what the author wanted.

Where I’m Walking

The Pearl Buck House, where I am a docent, has pathways across its five-acre property that are perfect for a meditative stroll. I like to look for what’s coming up along the way - buds on trees, and the flowers of spring in the greenhouses, one of which is filled with camellia plants the author bought herself in the 1940s.

What I’m Writing

Mostly marketing materials these days. Emails to bookstores and podcasts, and some creative nonfiction related to memoir. I just finished teaching a Zoom class and wrote along with my students, and I have a few dozen unfinished pieces from over the years. It’s a time to dabble, as I’m not sure I want to start another book project. What do you think? Do I need to finish the time travel adventures of Kat and Regina with a third volume, making it a trilogy? Should I gather together my pieces for a spiritual memoir? What do you think, readers?

What I’m Crafting

The annual Philly Yarn Crawl was a blast.

There were prize drawings and free patterns and stickers and crowds of knitters, and I visited 6 shops out of 17, one more than last year.

I’m working on an easy, soothing project, a 6-foot shawl or scarf of soft tweed, which I probably bought at last year’s Yarn crawl.

Do you have a craft hobby? Are you making a career in crafting? I’d love to hear about it!

By late February, I’m ready for spring. I do like the cozy indoor months, but I’ve had enough. Each day seems to bring gray skies and melting puddles of mushy, dirty snow. It’s still cold enough to need warm coats, hats, and gloves. Onscreen, I see a world in turmoil, a country divided, violent crime, and cruelty. But I don’t want to add to your malaise or mine. So…how do you find beauty in the bleak midwinter? Is it in a book, a website, a neighbor’s dog, a quiet evening at home? Do tell!

What I’m Reading

Separation of Church and Hate by John Fugelsang is my spiritual book club’s selection. We are a religiously progressive group, so we are pretty much in agreement that Christian nationalism is not what Jesus had in mind when he preached the Sermon on the Mount. Blessed are the meek, the poor in spirit, the merciful, the peacemakers… not sure where to find them these days? Look for the helpers, said Mr. Rogers. And maybe think about being one yourself. We need you more than ever.

And for reading beauty in the winter:

The Weeds, poems by Lynn Fanok that take us to the wild natural places of her childhood and adolescence. “A dirt road ran like a secret between us and the weeds/Our homes on the edge of town…” I met her at a local author fair. Her work is short, sweet, and quite the thing for a winter afternoon.

What I’m Crafting

Inspired by the people of Minneapolis, I downloaded the Melt the ICE hat pattern from Ravelry. For a donation of $5, which goes to immigrant aid agencies, you get a pretty easy pattern if you don’t mind knitting on double-pointed needles. Not my favorite tools, but I want the hat. Think I’ll finish by spring?

And for winter craft beauty…a house where someone appreciates yarn!

What I’m Writing

Much of my writing these days centers on my Polish American ethnicity and women’s spirituality. Here’s an excerpt from my new novel:

“Romany people have a holy woman of our own,” Philomena said. “It is time you learned about her.” I remembered hearing about her in an earlier conversation, but I was preoccupied then. Now, I settled in to listen.

“Sarah lived on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. Every year, like you, we also have a pilgrimage. We travel to the fishing village of Les Saintes Maries de la mer, where Mary Magdalene and her companions, including Sarah, a woman with dark skin like ours, came ashore.” Philomena stopped and looked at me until my eyes met hers. “Sarah is buried in the crypt of the church there. She is our Black Virgin.”

and for some winter writing beauty…

Connecting with Substackers who share my interests has provided me with plenty of thoughtful … and thought-provoking moments. Here’s one of my favorites, by Stephanie Raffelock:

Where I’m Walking

In my living room. We have had a foot of snow on the ground for a month, and walking in the street or on the sidewalks can be risky, but I do try to get outside for a few minutes every day, if only for the fresh air. I have found some good online walking programs as well. Do you have any you can recommend?

And for winter walking beauty:

I often run into one or more neighbors walking a dog or just getting some aerobic exercise in the middle of the day. Do you talk to your neighbors in the winter, or are they homebodies who rarely go out?

Whatever your February has been like, I wish you warmth, sunshine, and beauty to come!

This is a really tough time to be an American, if you’re paying attention. And more and more of us are paying attention. We are appalled, heartbroken, and angry at the cruelty of our own government. It’s hard to know what to say that isn’t a rant. But it’s important to find our voices. Speak your mind. Call your senators and representatives. And always remember to be kind.

I love these words from pastor Kevin Jagoe of BuxMont UU Fellowship in Warrington, PA:

“Next weekend is Imbolc, on the wheel of the year in pagan tradition, this is the holiday that marks the first glimmers of spring.

It may be hard to believe looking out our windows right now, but spring will come, ice will melt, new growth is just around the corner.

Spring eventually returns, ice eventually melts, no season lasts.

Remember, we are all in this together. “

Where I’m Walking

My neighborhood is digging out from 12 inches of snow that fell two days ago. So I’m walking indoors, in my office and dining room, with Senior Shape Fitness, an online app you can also find on YouTube. I recommend it for staying active when it’s too cold outside.

What I’m Writing

I’m pleased to say that my second time-travel novel, Time Is a Pilgrim, is available, or will be soon, on all the usual online sites. Your indie bookstore or library can order it for you as well. Time Is a Pilgrim is a tale of women living in a time of suspicion and fear until a time-traveling American, a medieval queen, and a gypsy’s forecast open windows into a world beyond their tiny village. It’s the sequel to Where the Stork Flies, but you can read it as a standalone.

The journey of Kat, Regina, and Jadwiga has been a major part of my writing life over the last few years. What’s next? We’ll see.

What I’m Reading

I have been teaching memoir writing for the past 15 or so years, and I like to keep up with new ones being published. I attended a writing workshop this month with Jane Wong, author of Meet Me Tonight In Atlantic City. She is a powerful, inspiring, and empathetic teacher. And a dynamic and lyrical writer. I am always learning more.

What I’m Crafting

I’m knitting a small blanket to use up some of my stash yarn. I do like purple and lavender, and as this one grows in size it keeps my legs warm while I knit in front of the TV.

It has a few mistakes in it, because I counted the rows wrong. I have decided to keep going anyway, and think of it as some indigenous people do: you work a part of your soul into everything you knit, so leaving a mistake in your project allows your soul to escape. I found that on While I Was Knitting. If you are a crafter, check it out, but get a cup of coffee or tea first, and allow a few hours to get pleasantly lost.

A couple of weeks ago, at my hair appointment, one woman asked another about her plans for Christmas.

“Soft and slow,” she said. She gave us a gentle smile. Her hair was covered in strips of silver foil, and a black plastic cape was around her shoulders.

My shoulders relaxed as I exhaled. Soft and slow. I smiled at her.

Soft and slow. The woman styling my hair smiled too. “Soft and slow,” she said.

Three women, middle-aged and elderly, we instinctively knew what she meant. A holiday without stress, with time for expressions of love. A time to hold those who are grieving, or sick, or scared. To welcome into our private homes those who have been away or next door, without expectation or judgment. To remember who and what we love and live for.

We have all been through the Christmas on the covers of magazines at the checkout lane in the supermarket. The holiday with homemade gingerbread houses, color-themed Christmas trees, matching tableware, and a smiling family of ten around a genuine oak table, with a big turkey in the middle. We have produced that kind of Christmas, or tried to. We know by now that it’s the magazine photographers who create those images. And Norman Rockwell, whom we love, but did he ever cook Christmas dinner? We bought those magazines because we wanted that kind of Christmas. But it was hard. And it was fast.

We know better now. We have lost people. We have gained friends. We have new family members. We have survived most of our lives. And we know what we cherish. We know what will last long into the coming new year.

May we have what we love most this Christmas. May the holiday fall soft upon our homes, our families, our friends. May it be slow enough to savor. The darkest night of the year is coming fast. Let’s draw together and prepare to greet the light of love.

(Back next month: what I’m reading, where I’m walking, and my new book: Time Is a Pilgrim!)

photo by Mattw.art

I like November. It’s cozy and gray. Grey? The trees are almost bare, and the branches let in more light. Brown leaves and pine needles blanket the hillsides. Migrating birds stop at my feeders, especially the grey ones. Titmouse, dove, nuthatch, junco, chickadee, sparrow… I learned to recognize them during COVID, when I joined the Cornell Feederwatch. Once in a while, the sun peeks through the greyish-white clouds, like a shy smile.

November comes just before the frenzied holiday season…and you can read more about that elsewhere. At my age, I want to tamp down the frenzy. I want to savor the music, the lights, the food, and the family and friends. But for now, I will wait, for it’s still November. My favorite dress is gray, my favorite pants are gray - jeans and knit, my favorite TV show is Grey’s Anatomy…what is it with me and gray? I like it.

What I’m Reading

In November, we give thanks, here in the US, for the good in our lives. I like cozying up with a good book and a cup of tea. Or hot cocoa. Or coffee. Or latte. So many good hot drinks that go well with reading! And sitting by the fire, under a warm afghan.

Becoming Madam Secretary is another of my neighborhood book club’s selections. It’s the best kind of historical fiction, covering the life of Frances Perkins, the woman responsible for the Social Security Act, and the end of child labor. With her words, author Stephanie Dray skillfully takes us down the path of a female trailblazer we all can be grateful for.

What I’m Crafting

It’s a great time for knitting. And sewing. I have UFOs (Unfinished Objects) that used to cause me stress just to look at them, but now they call to me. In November, I take out projects for a craft show, and pick up another to work on, in the gray afternoon. This one is almost finished. It’s a Christmas holiday table runner. And yes, it’s gray!

Where I’m Walking

It’s been windy and cold here in Bucks County, PA. Not such good walking weather. I discovered an indoor exercise app that comes free with my health insurance and satisfies my need to move away from my desk and couch. I like that I can do something for 15 or 30 minutes, depending on how I feel or how much time I think I have, while the wind blows the brown leaves around my yard. And yes, I do go outside occasionally. Haha!

What I’m Writing

My second time travel novel, Time Is a Pilgrim, is in the hands of my book formatter and cover designer. I’m excited to share with you the continuing story of Regina, the Polish peasant, and her latest adventure, in which she has to reconsider female beauty standards, her prejudice against gypsies, and her loss of faith. I’d love to hear what you think! Meanwhile, you can catch up by reading the story of how she came to the US! Through a portal in time!

Wishing all good things for you, my readers. I’m so grateful to you for buying books, sharing them, reading them, and passing them on.

The author is a writer friend and this is her first book, an “insider’s” story of growing up in postwar Germany, interspersed with stories from her mother, who was a child at the time, and her grandmother, who had to move her children around the country while her husband fought on the eastern front. A botanist and professor, Coenen intersperses the personal with the scientific. Did you know there are unexploded, live bombs under German cities to this day?

What I’m Writing

I’m plugging away at the final revisions of my second time travel novel, Time Is a Pilgrim. I hope to have this one out in time for the winter holidays. There will be a special offer for my Substack followers! Meanwhile, here’s a little taste:

“The woman was quite tall, and her skin was dark like the Romany people I had so recently insulted. Why was she here, with Jadwiga, who stood almost as tall as she, both casting loving glances toward me?”

As you might know from the first book, Where the Stork Flies, I am fascinated by women’s spirituality. Maybe you are too?

What I’m Crafting

Yesterday afternoon, I made a rookie mistake. I have been quilting for over thirty years, and have made multiple quilts of various sizes. I took out a half-finished table runner with a lot of piecing squares, where “small print” fabric is recommended. But when I began to put the squares together, I saw that the large prints I had chosen were chopped up. The effect was … well, ugly. And dizzy- making.

So I went out and got a latte. Then I reflected in my journal. I am at the stage of quilting where I can recognize a mistake in fabric choice instead of sewing up a mishmash and wondering why it doesn’t look good. And this, too, is the stage I’m at in my writing: I can see where it needs fixing. I’m not a rookie anymore, but I still go back for a visit.

How about you? Do you ever make “rookie mistakes?”

Where I’m Walking

This afternoon was a perfect fall day, one of many this month, here in Southeastern Pennsylvania. The leaves were blowing off the trees, mostly yellow and brown. We haven’t had much rain this year, so there’s very little red. On the trail crossing a paved bridge, we spotted a great blue heron standing in the middle of the creek. She was a giant! We watched as she turned her head, looking for prey, and maybe gauging if we were far enough away for her to stay put. We left her to it and walked on.

Columcille Megalith Park is a Celtic-inspired outdoor sanctuary near Bangor, PA, where quiet is the rule. I visited with family on a recent weekend. The trails are unpaved and can be quite rocky as they wind around 90 stone settings throughout the 20-acre park, placed between 1980 and 2005. I liked the message posted on the grounds: The Way you Think it is, May Not Be the Way it is at All. I found it inspiring and encouraging. People like us once lived through uneasy times, and we can get through them too, together.

What I’m Writing

Over the summer, I published an expanded edition of Where the Stork Flies, with recipes and book club questions. (I’ll be happy to visit with yours on Zoom, just let me know!) So here’s something Regina made (and her daughter burned!) in the novel, perfect for cool fall evenings and easy to make. Just don’t get distracted while it’s cooking!

Hunter's Stew (Bigos)

Ingredients

• 2 pounds beef chuck roast, cut into 1-inch cubes

• 2 tablespoons canola oil

• 4-1/4 cups water, divided

• 1/2 cup tomato juice

• 2 medium onions, cut into wedges

• 2 celery ribs, sliced

• 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

• 2 bay leaves

• 2 to 3 teaspoons salt

• 1/2 teaspoon pepper

• 6 medium carrots, quartered

• 6 medium potatoes, peeled and quartered

• 1 cup frozen peas

• 1 tablespoon cornstarch

Directions

1. In a Dutch oven, brown meat in oil over medium heat. Add 4 cups of water and scrape to loosen any browned drippings from the pan. Add the tomato juice, onions, celery, Worcestershire sauce, bay leaves, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and cook for 2 hours, stirring occasionally.

2. Discard bay leaves; add the carrots and potatoes. Cover and cook for 40-60 minutes.

3. Stir in the peas; cook for 10 minutes. Combine cornstarch and remaining water until smooth; stir into stew. Bring to a boil. Cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened.

What I’m Crafting

Sew Can She is a website with tons of free patterns for simple projects. One of my favorites to make for a quick gift is this Soup Bowl Cozy. It will protect your hands when you pick up that hot bowl from the microwave, or just carry it from the stovetop to the table. And it’s a great stash buster too!

What I’m Reading

It’s been a long time since I read a Wally Lamb novel. My book club chose this one, and it’s been on my mind since I picked it up a few days ago. Tragedy, guilt, forgiveness, family…and maybe redemption? This one goes deep into the prison system and addiction, and I know it will stay with me for a long time to come.

Fall is for Memories

Don’t forget to share this link with anyone you know who is talking about writing a memoir! Maybe it’s you? Fall is a great time to connect the dots in your life with like-minded folks and preserve your story for posterity. My students have been surprised by the gentle magic of writing with others. Join us? I hope you can!

Lots going on, right? We live in crazy times. You know it, I know it.

I find that reflecting in a journal helps. What also helps? Organizing those thoughts. (And a chai latte).

This fall, I’m offering a Zoom workshop that has been popular with my students for over ten years. It’s sponsored by the Pearl Buck Writing Center, and I’d love to see you there.

We’ll learn some basics, write some memories, and share our stories in a safe, constructive environment, all from the comfort of your home. Or coffee shop. Or wherever you like to write!

And you will have stories to let your friends and family know what it was like to be you in crazy times!

For six weeks, starting October 15th, from 7 pm to 9 pm Eastern time.

Click on this link for more info. And hang in there. It gets better.

I thought it would be interesting to change things up for this month’s newsletter. Change is good, right?

Living

This month, I attended a writing conference where approximately 25% of attendees contracted COVID. At home again, I used 90% of my foggy brain power to cancel all my plans for the week. My next-door neighbor is in hospice for heart failure. My favorite neighbor is recovering from open-heart surgery. My sister’s partner is in the hospital with multiple conditions. And I can’t help any of them because I am a virus factory. When I’m sick, I don’t want to do anything but read and eat ice cream. So…

Reading

Am I happy I picked up a copy of Fredrik Backman’s latest novel, My Friends, with my rewards coupon at my local indie bookstore? He is now one of my favorite writers, for characters so vulnerable I want to put my arms around them. Told in dual timelines (which I’m not crazy about but he does it very well so I’m not confused) this is the story of four friends in their early teens one fateful summer and how a painting changed their lives. Plus, this guy knows how to write original, beautiful sentences that I have to go back and read again and again, resting in it:

"The plastic bag dances along the platform, as if mocking his anxiety, as if trying to say:Look here! See how easy it is for me to make myself happy!"

Writing

Where the Stork Flies, my feminist time travel Polish heritage novel, has a new cover, and a new expanded edition with recipes, questions for book clubs, and a guide to Polish pronunciation. If you haven’t read it yet, you might want to pick up a copy soon before the sequel comes out later this year. The working title (third one so far but this one I really like) Time Is a Pilgrim, follows the same characters on a walking journey where they encounter Romany or gypsy folk. Here’s a little sample:

“It was then that the tallest woman I have ever seen stepped down from a door at the back of the wagon. Her black hair hung in a long braid down her back, and she seemed to glide through the grass as she approached. Her skirt was striped with a shiny fabric of black, white and red, and its hem brushed the tops of her short black boots. She peered down at us, her head as still as a hawk’s. Then she ever so slowly drew close enough to speak softly to us, and I froze under her gaze.”

Crafting

This colorful blanket is knit on the diagonal, widening from one corner to its full width. I haven’t decided yet how far that will go. I have four skeins of 100% cotton Berrocco Bozzolo zebra snowtail, so I think I will use up 2 before I start decreasing again to the far corner. The yarn is so soft it’s comforting to hold, and I hope whoever gets this one will love that.

Walking

While at the conference, we were treated to a walking tour of historic Kingston, NY, ending at The Rough Draft Bar and Books, an indie bookstore and bar. I drank a glass of hard cider and, while gesturing animatedly, dropped the empty glass on the stone floor. The shattering sound drew a bit of attention, the barmaid with a broom and dustpan was swift and cordial, and no injuries were reported.

Stay well, read often and walk in joy.

Linda

XO

Lady Clementine by Marie Benedict was a gift a few years ago. Looking for something to escape into these hot afternoons, I pulled this one down from the shelf. Do I need to read another WWII novel? Apparently, I do. Especially one that tells the story of a powerful woman whose story is not so well-known. The author has fictionalized Mrs. Churchill’s married life in a believable and dramatic way. Even the private dialogue between the couple makes sense in the context of their own personalities - his narcissistic and hers devoted to his success. From the point of view of Clementine, and in the present tense - good authorial choices that make the reader feels her power as her husband’s biggest supporter and her loss as she gives up close mothering and a career of her own. Lots to think about, and I’m still in the middle…

What I’m Writing

I’m thrilled to share that my work is featured in The Zest of the Lemon: Volume 2 — a beautiful collection of over 150 reflections and poems from more than 100 voices around the world. My short memoir about a 1950s children’s TV program where my cousin behaved badly on the air is one of the ‘reflections.’

This volume celebrates Nature, Daily Life, and Spirit — and it’s available now!

Take a peek and grab your copy:
👉 https://thezestofthelemon.com/volume-2/

As always, your support means the world. 🍋💛

What I’m Crafting

I pulled this beautiful soft merino wool out of my stash to knit a baby blanket. Earlier this month, two of my friends who are hospice volunteer chaplains told me about a program to give knitted comfort blankets to patients. Their family keeps the blanket after the patient passes. I donated three last month. When you’ve been knitting all your life, and have enough blankets and scarves and hats and have given enough as gifts to your friends and family, I loved this wonderful idea. Do you have any charities you craft for?

Where I’m Walking

I took a stroll along the Brooklyn Heights Promenade on my last morning cat-sitting for my son and his wife. It was my last morning there, and I pondered all I had seen in those few days. When I was a girl in the small industrial town of Amsterdam, three hours north, I dreamed of living in New York City. Near the end of my eighth decade, I did it! For four days. All by myself. It was a “big girl pants” kind of week. I successfully rode the R, the 5, and the 2 trains, saw Call Me Izzy on Broadway, and visited the Anne Frank exhibit at the Center for Jewish History. And I wrote in a cafe, two mornings in a row. The cat was fun too.

Especially moving for me as a writer, “Izzy” was about a poet living in a trailer park, writing on toilet paper and hiding it in a Tampax box. How can you not love this woman and root for her to get out of there?

Trapped in a very different way, Anne Frank dreamed of becoming a journalist and writer. She got her wish, tragically, after her death, but she gave the world a timeless story. I hope they’re still teaching it in public schools, where I first read it.

An amazing, satisfying week filled with walking up and down subway stairs, through stations, standing on street corners, and strolling through brownstone-lined streets. And it’s good to be home.

What I’m Reading…

Joyce Maynard’s novel, How the Light Gets In (BTW, do you know how many books have that title? I counted 11 - eleven! - on Amazon. ) Just so you know, you can’t copyright a title. Anyway, the one I just read is a sequel to Count the Ways, her literary domestic drama about a family and its matriarch, Eleanor, from her hippy days to the present, in other words, paralleling American history and how it affects our relationships. I have been following Maynard on Facebook but she has a Substack now! It seems to me Eleanor’s journey sometimes parallels Maynard’s own. She explores current societal issues like family estrangement, disability awareness and drug addiction. And she knows how to put them into a good story you will find hard to put down.

What I’m Writing…

This month, I started a new in-person writing group and it’s going well. Before the pandemic, I met with a group to write in the upstairs cafe of a supermarket. This is now called “co-writing” and you can also do it online or on Zoom. I missed writing, and talking about writing, and found four other writer friends who wanted to try it. So far, everybody is getting the words down for a couple of hours on Monday morning, then buying lunch at the market and eating while we talk - about writing.

What I’m Crafting…

I’m almost done with this candy stripe cowl I made with self-striping Novella yarn from Purl Soho. It’s merino wool and ‘mulberry silk’, so very soft. The colors are Flower Patch and Salt Water Taffy. I just have to seam it and weave in the ends. Most evenings, I knit while watching Acorn or Netflix, but I’m learning a new seaming technique which will require me to concentrate on the needles instead of Doc Martin. Isn’t it pretty?

Where I’m Walking…

Last week, Steve and I went to our happy place on the Jersey shore. Brigantine is a long, narrow island near Atlantic City. That’s its only drawback, as the city has fallen on hard times and looks pretty sad, even with all the high-rise hotels and casinos. But Brigantine is a low-key town with a beautiful beach. And it’s near the Edwin Forsyth Wildlife Refuge, which has an eight-mile driving loop past osprey nests, and many other migrating waterfowl. And several trails through the woods and along ponds.

I also took myself into AC on the 14th to take part in the No Kings protest. It was a joyful afternoon, one of many, I hope, as we work to preserve our democracy from a government that seems to be dismantling it.

What I’m Reading

This month, my book club chose one of the saddest books I have ever read. The Beekeeper of Aleppo, by Christy Leftery is a novel told from the point of view of a Syrian refugee traveling with his wife across Europe to join his cousin in England, where they plan to restart their beekeeping business. The hardship and heartache they go through is based on the author’s experience as a volunteer at a refugee camp in Athens. In other words, it is heartbreakingly real. Have you read it? It evoked compassion in us and I hope it does for all who read it during this time fraught with migration stories and the real people living them.

What I’m Writing

Progress is being made on the new novel. (Note the passive construction!) While checking my process journal, I saw that I started working on it in 2019. How is that possible? I love the revision stage, so I’m going through my files of documents with research notes, deleted scenes, character bibles…There’s a lot behind the scenes of authorship, did you know?

Meanwhile, a short story I wrote last year is being published in an anthology called “Write Forward: A Constellation of Voices” published by the International Women’s Writing Guild with support from the deGroot Foundation. There will be an online reading in late June, so I’ll post a link when I have it.

What I’m Crafting

I’m almost done with the vintage blanket. A good thing, because it’s woolen and summer is coming. I’ll tuck it away in an upstairs closet until the leaves begin to fall. This weekend, I’m traveling to my son’s wedding in upstate New York.

I’ll need a small project to work on in the air bnb. Luckily, I snagged this pattern and yarn from Purl Soho a few months ago, and it sat in my stash until just this moment. It’s small enough and pretty, and I can just imagine myself knitting and purling with my feet up at the end of a lovely day.

Where I’m Walking

The Bradford Reservoir Recreation Area is on the site of a former Nike missile base. In the 1960s, there were nuclear missiles buried underground here. Just in case - and it was a very real fear - nuclear missiles were launched toward Philadelphia. The base was deactivated in 1971. We don’t think about it now, walking the quiet trails along the creek, then climbing to the dam above the reservoir. The last time I was there, a Boy Scout troop was fishing in the creek. If you live long enough, history changes things. Hopefully for the better.

Until next time, be well, and keep in touch. And thanks for reading!

This month, my spirituality discussion group is reading Life After Doom by Brian MacLaren. It’s sobering but I’m going to hang in there and try not to turn to the end where I hope it all turns out well for us. I’m pretty sure, from what we’ve read so far, that nobody knows for sure. What else is new? Does it help to read about the climate crisis together with others of like mind? I think so. Do you think about these things and talk about them too?

What I’m writing

After hours of struggling with the reissue of my time travel novel, Where the Stork Flies, I am humbled by technology. Still, I’m pleased to republish the expanded edition with recipes, book club questions and a Polish pronunciation guide (should any readers want to pronounce Polish words!). I hope you’ll give it a read, if you haven’t already, as I spend more hours to revise (and revise and revise) the sequel. Writing is fun. Writing is work. Writing is lonely. Writing is rewarding. Writing is my life. And that’s the truth. What about you? How do you define your life’s work?

What I’m crafting

I put this project aside for ‘a while.’ I am terrible at mitered corners, and I know I could fix them but it’s overwhelming me at the moment. And that’s okay. On to something a bit easier. Someone please remind me you can do binding corners in a simpler way. And that I don’t have to finish everything I start.

Where I’m walking

The Moland House, a few miles from my home, is reached by a walking trail that meanders through a small park with playground, adjacent to a golf course, a quiet residential development and even a tributary of the ubiquitous-in-Bucks-County Neshaminy Creek. Whenever I stroll past, I make sure to stop in the little garden with the statue of the Marquis de Lafayette. Yes, George Washington stayed here. I’m not sure he got much sleep, as he made plans to lead his troops across the Delaware River, changing the course - pun intended - of the Revolutionary War. I sometimes wonder what they were thinking that night. I’m sure they gave no thought to the fact that Americans living in peace and freedom would stroll by, two centuries later, as an exercise and fitness practice. Or maybe they did, and that hope spurred them across the River. Today my prayer is for the continuation of the democracy they so bravely fought for.

The Searcher by Tana French takes place in a remote Irish village, the perfect setting for reading on a cold March night. Or afternoon. Or morning. I loved the setting and the long drawn-out descriptions of the scenery. The main characters - a retired and disillusioned Chicago cop, a young Irish child who needs his help and villagers who are “not what they seem…” - kept me turning the pages during my after-four p.m. reading time, complete with a hot cup of Irish tea.

What I’m crafting…

This past weekend was the second ever Greater Philly Yarn Crawl, and I made it to five of the 16 stores on my “passport,” which put me in the running for prizes which I did not win. Nor did I win any of the individual store raffles. But I scooped up some beautiful yarn at each place, plus some free patterns and shared a delightful Saturday afternoon among many happy knitters. I added to my stash of beautiful yarns and patterns because you can never have too many….

What I’m writing…

A short piece of mine was accepted for an anthology published by the International Women’s Writing Guild which previewed on March 8, International Women’s Day, at the United Nations in New York City, as part of a statement on the 69th United Nations Commission on the Status of Women (CSW69). This event was a call to action, reminding us of the power of storytelling to illuminate the 12 critical areas of concern outlined in the Beijing Platform for Action—from education and health to climate justice and human rights. I hope to participate in a live reading in May of this year.

Where I’m walking…

Doylestown’s Central Park has lovely open fields and wooded trails, and strategically placed benches. Some of my neighbors walk there every day, but I like to mix it up. Everytime I visit, whether alone, with my husband, or a friend, there is something new going on with the trees, the bird houses, the bat boxes or the lovely native plant garden tended by volunteers. The best part is I don’t get my sneakers wet or muddy in the spring because the trails are paved. There are a few unpaved trails through the woods when I’m feeling adventurous, but every road leads to home, so I never get lost. I’m so grateful to live in this township that cares about preserving land and outdoor recreation spaces. And yes, I gladly pay my taxes to support this. And many other public services I may not see or visit because that’s how I roll. You?

This month, my neighborhood book club read James, the National Book Award novel by Percival Everett. It’s a retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, from the point of view of Jim, the enslaved sidekick. The story takes a very different direction as they paddle down the Mississippi in their raft, encountering some new characters and some old, and is laced with wry humor.

What I’m crafting…

I started a new project - a vintage throw - with a beautiful wool yarn and pattern from Purl Soho.

I’ve been knitting all my life, and this looked pretty easy, but I had to “reverse knit” also known as “rip it out” and start again four times because I misunderstood the directions: ssk means slip two stitches and knit them together. I thought it meant slip two stitches and knit one. I would knit a row and come up with an extra stitch, over and over until I figured it out. Nevertheless, I persisted.

What I’m Writing…

I’m happy my little essay about bird hospice found a home at The Manifest Station, a literary blog about being human that I’ve long enjoyed. Hope you’ll take a peak and maybe find something that warms your heart, or touches you in a good way.

Where I’m Walking…

In my beautiful hometown of Doylestown, PA, on Presidents’ Day, I walked with a couple of hundred people to the county courthouse square on a beautiful and freezing day to voice our concerns about our federal government. We joined thousands of people across the country who did the same. The sky above us seemed to be on our side.

I know, I know. This is where many would-be writers quit. It’s too hard. It’s cold outside, and gray and the news is so depressing. Write about that, you say? And get even more depressed? I don’t think so. Read one of the many articles in writers’ mags about how to get unstuck? I don’t want to.

Okay, it’s not that bad. I attended a Zoom workshop last week with the wonderful Dorothy Randall Gray about “starting at the end.” I wrote a few pages. But now I can’t seem to get back to them, to revise and make something readable others might enjoy.

Instead I’ve been reading a lot, lunching with friends, volunteering at church…all good and worthwhile… but I miss writing.

I’VE BEEN READING:

The God of the Woods by Liz Moore is a big crunchy mystery about two missing children in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, an area I visited often as a girl, swimming and picnicking at Pine Lake.

I’VE BEEN CRAFTING:

I’m almost done with this baby blanket in Snow Cone by Caron Cinnamon Cakes. It’s a simple knit stitch with an open edge that’s been soothing and meditative and easy to do while watching Miss Scarlet and the Duke on PBS.

I’VE BEEN WRITING:

Here’s another little bit from the work-in-progress, sequel to Where the Stork Flies. I am going to get to work on revisions very soon. Really.

“On the night before we left, the black summer sky sparkled with stars. Too excited to sleep, I lifted myself on my elbows and looked out the window for a sign of morning, when I would leave my little village and walk for many kilometers to the Shrine of the Czarna Madonna at Czestochowa. It would be a journey that forever changed my life.

Beyond my desire to see the painting of Mary there, I wanted to petition her for a cure for my granddaughter’s birth defect. And, joy of joys, my dear friends from another time, snoring on the floor nearby, would be coming with me.

As the night was warm, I slept in only my linen shift. My tunic and skirt were ready on the chair next to my bed. As soon as the first light of dawn glowed at the window, I rolled over to sit, blessed myself, and said a quick Zdrowasz Marja. I believed in Mary, the Blessed Mother, as strongly as I believed in my own heartbeat. She had saved my people from invaders and performed miracles. Surely she could grant my wish.”

I’VE BEEN WALKING

Doylestown, PA, the town where I live, has some beautiful buildings. This one is the Mercer Museum, full of antique farm equipment and artifacts collected by Henry Mercer. You can walk on sidewalks all around it and anywhere in Doylestown from this spot.

And that’s all for now. Hey! I wrote something!

Wishing you a calm and cozy winter,

Linda