Bobbing Along

A Lifetime of Stories: collected, painted, shared.

Ancestors and Anecdotes

Brace yourself.

This section is dedicated to stories from years past as well as more recent vignettes. Some stories may be delightful. Some may be serious. Some may be very, very personal and for those, I say:¬†read at your own risk. This section of my blog is dedicated to those sorts of stories that my family may, down the road, eventually, want documented. If they don’t, then, down the road, eventually, they can just delete the whole damn thing.

Oh, and please don’t expect these to be in any chronological order. It’s all I can do to remember the details.

Although…

I never let the details get in the way of a good story.

Just sayin’.

Olfaction

One grandmother smelled of Listerine and moth balls. The other smelled of kitchen—fried chicken, black raspberry pie. My grandfather smelled of pipe tobacco, my father of sweat and anger. Mom smelled of Windsong. Perhaps my smell will be of turpentine and oil paint, but that won’t happen unless I get my ass into the studio.

A Tale of Two Grandmothers

In a recent burst of energy (or mania, not sure which) I attacked a couple of closets in an attempt to clean, sort, and toss a significant portion of stuff that had accumulated over time. Indeed, many things of little or forgotten value were either donated or dumped. In some cases, the decision to do […]

The Kindness of Strangers (and other stories)

9-11 The date has become the name and the mere mention of it brings back a torrent of memories. As the ten-year anniversary approaches, I join multitudes in writing about experiences on that day and the days that followed. My husband and I were vacationing in the south of France and we became stranded there […]

Perhaps I Should Explain

As I inch closer to releasing this blog to the public (aaaand that might mean you, dear reader), I should, perhaps, take this moment to explain the genesis¬†of the name Bobbing Along. My third child, my daughter, had headed off to college in a city some eight hours away. She was quite ready to leave […]