Meet our writers



April 2017
Puttin' on the Gritz

Life Preserver

Our time here is made up of events, good, bad and “eh,” but a great deal of it remains locked inside our minds. Our experiences become a footprint, a trail, a eulogy or a sum total that registers the fact that we stood on this earth and that we mattered.


Seriously! Loves Strikes at 64?

After being divorced 15 years, I gave up on finding Mr. Right for the second time. At that point, I thought married life would be about two old people living together. We’d lead slow, lethargic lives – eat dinner at 4 p.m., indulge in scavenger hunts to find our eyeglasses and fall asleep while waiting for the 11 o’clock news. I’d probably even lose my independence. Yuk!

March 2017
Laverne's View

In the Pool with Old People

Two knee and one hip replacement, along with severe back arthritis, had me leaning on a cane and, occasionally, a walker. I passed a mirror and was shocked to see my posture resembled Quasimodo’s. My head stretched two feet in front of me when I walked, like a periscope in search of land. Hopes of making it with George Clooney had long since vanished.

Phase Three

It's All Relative When It Comes to Weather

Anybody who has ever argued in their household about what setting should be maintained for the heat and air-conditioning is more than aware that what is cold and what is warm are relative.


Friendship Launched Through Words

In writing and sharing these stories, a phenomenal thing occurred. We discovered all the shared values we have as Americans and as women. Recurring themes emerged about the anguish of love, loss and pain, as well as the joy and successes of parenting, overcoming challenges and finding true love.

Just Sayin’

The Writing Place

Above the coffee cups on my desk are an array of photos with mismatched frames. There is one of my granddaughter playing in the sand when she was two, my three children as babies and teenagers, my nephew Alex as a college man, and my grandmother playing Chinese checkers.

Musings of an Undefeated Matriarch

The Wearing of the Green

It was drilled into us kids to wear something green and proudly pin a shamrock to our clothing. Dad would have a fit if he saw one of us leaving the house in an orange blouse, shirt, or sweater. One day of the year, orange was absolutely a forbidden color, for it was a reminder of the old troubles between Catholics and Protestants in Ireland.


Three Leaves of the Shamrock

The older I get, the more Irish I seem to become. Of all my labels and identities, I treasure my Irish heritage.

One More Story...

A Child’s War Story

What my father did not mention was how they escaped. He and two other prisoners ripped out electrical wire from the barracks wall and used it to subdue guards. On the run, they connected with the French underground, who took them in, hiding them in a root cellar.

February 2017
As I Recall...

Party Line News

Anytime a phone rang on the party line, nearly everyone picked up their receiver and listened in. Thus, news with varying degrees of importance and reliability was disseminated throughout the community. You could learn who called for an ambulance or police during the night or whose barn burned.

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