Can’t Take It Any More! I thought “the cawff” would stop if I ignored it, but it didn’t. How long would the “cawff” remain hidden behind the alphabet, before someone speaks up? Guess I’ll have to do it myself. It’s driving me crazy. At first it was only fashions. I could live with that. Too…… Continue reading Tell It Like It Was!
a THREAD begins to reveal itself.
Ahead are endless, unplanned days.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Holiday Of Love As published in the Houghton Lake Resorter Newspaper1963Mary Anne Whitchurch Tuck“Musings Of A Homemaker” February is the month of sweethearts and historical birthdays. Gifts and cards of caring are abundantly given and received.Red is the color of this holiday of love, representing the warmth and caring which doesn’t end with the passing…… Continue reading A Holiday Of Love
MUSINGS OF A HOMEMAKER-1964 (If your memory doesn’t go back as far as 1964, you may want to get someone to help you read and interpret this.) It should be of increasing concern to America at large that we are all becoming hopelessly addicted to the beckoning television networks. I, for one, have resisted the…… Continue reading TV Addiction-Not Me
Christmas Memories 1963 (As printed in the Houghton Lake Resorter, Houghton Lake, Michigan Weekly Newspaper- MUSINGS OF A HOMEMAKER by Mary Anne Tuck) The pine tree stands in the corner, colorful but lonely. Gaily wrapped gifts beneath its branches have disappeared. The sweet smell of pine is no longer in the air. Shiny bicycles and…… Continue reading One More Package Of Memories
She began to talk to me of times of JOY. She spoke of happy things and times and places.
Upon leaving, I said,
”See you when you come home”.
“Ok honey”, she said
Sometimes This Old Farm Feels Like A Long Lost Friend…. It’s always good to be back home again. Married four years in 1959, living on the lakeshorewith a toddler of three and an infant of six months, we began to look for another, safer, and perhaps more friendly place to live. Safer was my thinking.…… Continue reading LIFE AT HIDDEN MEADOWS FARM
Ahead were only dreary, boring days and years of waiting to get “old.” There was nothing new to do nor places to see or ROADS to travel.
But the best of all things that my two eyes can see,
Is the sight of “Old Glory” as she waves in the breeze.