This story was written with tears in my eyes as memories, even some forgotten it seemed, poured from inside. Grandpa’s farm and vacationing with my brother there gave happiness to my childhood that otherwise seems blurred, if not gone. I had been on Facebook a while when I had an invitation to play FarmVille. What great fun and now I can play a game where I can pretend to play on my Grandpa’s farm once again!

A two season haiku…

Changing of the Seasons at Treetops, by the author of Treetops and Tidepools, the story of the years spent in a quaint little cottage perched on a hillside in Coos Bay, on the Oregon Coast. Stories from the garden, the Boston Terriers and the changing of the seasons in the country of sun, sea, and cool forest glades.

I grew up in 1960’s England, at a time when the world was changing very fast. My grandma was my link to the past, while my parents were forward looking and full of life.

Short poem about not being able to see or understand what the future held for me as I approached my graduation day. And how unsure and insecure I was feeling in those days. Poem was a release of expression for the need of a strong leading force in my life.

A short memoir about one of the few nice times my brother and I had.

A poem about the simple joy of picking (and eating) wild blackberries.

I need a name for my beautiful poem; should it be “Autumn,” or should it be “Peace”? Or shall I ask my niece?