All Purls. No Swine.
Thomas Herbert Mapson was my Auntie Betty’s father. (Strictly speaking, she wasn’t my auntie–being my great-grandmother’s niece–and her given name wasn’t Betty–they were Jenny Alice May–but “close enough for gubmint work,” as they say. He was born and baptized in Bilston, Staffordshire in the UK, on July 4, 1878. Given what I’ve found out about my… Continue reading In Memory, Thomas Herbert Mapson
I learned, many years ago, that when a loved one dies, the twelve months following is a year of "firsts." My first birthday without at least a phone call from Dad. The first Christmas without one of Michael's slightly off-color cards (which he loved so much). The first Mother's day without lunch or dinner at… Continue reading Love Song: Thee and Me
I had a peripatetic childhood, and by the time I finished high school I’d attended well over a dozen schools on three different continents, with time off for good behavior during a glorious year (in about third grade) where there wasn’t a school anywhere in sight. My mother, who was largely disinterested in her parenting… Continue reading Entertaining Angels: Life Comes Full Circle Edition