Dad harvested his first three bushels from the apple orchard. Down below the shed in our sloped field, apples still ripen on the three-year-old trees, slim and smooth sided and hung heavy with fruit. Dad planted those trees during the time when he first seriously considered selling the milk cows. By the time the two-year-old
Because I am interested in history—and particularly the history of oppressed people groups—my ears always perk when my friend and fellow writer Shel Pais starts talking about his dad, a Holocaust survivor. “His story is part of who I am today,” Shel wrote to me once. In this post, he’s agreed to share part of
The Pickle Story: Sometimes the Smallest Decisions Have Major Impact Read More »
I will be giving a talk at the University of Wisconsin-Barron this Thursday, February 22nd at noon. The talk is titled “The Story of a Mennonite” and is described as follows: Join Lucinda Miller as she reflects on her own peculiar Mennonite life and the stories and complexities that make it real. Learn the histories
This Is Just to Say Read More »
My Toyota Yaris came with three keys when I bought it. Unfortunately, after I had owned it a couple of years, only one key remained. The others slid down behind the couch cushions into the innards of the couch, or beneath seven-year dirt under the refrigerator, or under a flipped-up corner of linoleum in the
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