A Letter to my Son_'The Luck'_A footprint closer to Glory_Almanacs
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A Letter to my Son
23rd February 1918My dearest Rupert, It is a cold and dreary Saturday here in Windsor. I know it’s not long since your father and I wrote you last and I have not even had time to receive your response, even if you’ve had time to write me back. I know you’re very busy in France at the moment. I was struck by a horrible feeling at breakfast this morning and I felt like I simply had to write to you straight away. I was thinking about my last letter to you and how much page space I had dedicated to your Aunt Olive’s vegetable patch. I told you all about her carrots and potatoes and then yesterday,...
'The Luck'
‘The Luck’ "Good luck." Momah's words echo down the street. “It’s Like finding a tack in a haystack.” We were on a mission to find that lucky one with the four leaves. My Momah told me it would bring me ‘The Luck.’ Whatever that means. Dadbob tells Momah she will get lucky every time she wears those short skirts and paints her mouth and eyes.My Momah knows what ‘The Luck’ is. Guess she is the smart one cause Dadbob told me I’ve only made it four times around the sun. I think he’s silly. I see the sun come up every morning when I look outside. S-U-N is how you spell it. It comes up over Johnn...
A footprint closer to Glory
When you think of the saying “All Glory to God” what do you think of? Most would say we live to respect and to deliver the Most High, The Almighty. Creation itself is beautiful, we as people must learn to follow the creator because we too fall deeper into love with the creation. It all started on that sweet Saturday evening, when my great ol friend Tye came to town. He had said once when we were younger “Let’s go on a walk” so I as any other 14 year old boy went along with my pal to wherever he had to show me. Along the Ol Guadalupe river we had walked. You’d find awww.onedoor.ccll sorts of arrowheads chise...
Almanacs
The huntsman arrived at the old cabin carrying the equivalent in fur and meat to two full hunting weeks: hare, badger, and fox fur, salty boar and rabbit meat, smoked fish, lard, as well as some birds hunted at that very day, everything wrapped in new, firm leather. He knocked at the door, and the old resident called him in: she had seen in her runes he would come.He greeted her respectfully and with reverence, calling her the noblest titles he knew – mommy, aunt, grandma. The huntsman had always been dutiful and polite: he had learned from his mother and aunts, who had a cousin full of myste...