This is a poem about finding an old house to live in.

A short story about old memories, love lost, and that last kiss that wasn’t taken.

THE OLD HOUSE STOOD ON TOP OF THE HILL. A place they had left behind…..

Phooey finds a runaway classmate.

Phooey and his friend Steve discover a counterfeitting operation in their neighborhood.

I wondered why this light wasn’t working….

Why were there two windows on the outside, but only one inside?

Do you live in an old house? Ever heard noises in the middle of the night?

An intriguing photograph in my mother’s album raised many questions in my mind. A weekend in Wales, a helpful undertaker, two willing friends, and a lady who had the answers – all combined to enable me to take a nostalgic walk in my mother’s footsteps.