When I hear a clock ticking, I go back a few decades and find myself in Ma and Pappy Latty’s house. They always had a wind-up clock and I can remember how the sound meant peace and security for me. I can see my grandparents’ living room, sun coming through the windows, and feel […]
Aug 11, 2020
When the Light Turns Golden
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There’s something about the late afternoon, just before the supper hour, when the day is winding down and the light lies golden and still through the windows. There’s a hush, a silence in the rooms, a quiet acceptance that the day is over and soon the sun will slip beneath the horizon. What do you […]
Aug 10, 2020
That’s America to Me
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My grandparents once owned a store and lived in a house across the road. The house and store are gone now, but the memories of it still survive. I remember being in it as a child and it seemed awfully big, dark, and exciting. The candy counter and the bright-colored sweets with the scales my […]
Jul 25, 2020
Brewers of Coffee
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The first thing I do each morning after feeding Nemo is make a pot of coffee. Some of my fondest memories center around cups of coffee and the people who brewed them. I guess a person’s mother is always the yardstick by which everything else is measured, but really, my mother could make the most […]
Jun 21, 2020
A Tribute to Dad
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Today is Father’s Day, a day to celebrate all the dads out there. Happy Father’s Day to my son, Matt Manos, who is a super father. Just ask his children. I think of my father every day but on this day, there is a particular vacancy, because Dad isn’t here and I can’t hear him sing […]
Jun 16, 2020
Is This Tuesday?
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I’m convinced this is Tuesday. Yesterday, I was convinced today would be Wednesday. For some reason, I was one day ahead all yesterday. I had rolled my trash can halfway into the yard before I realized–whoa! I’m one day off. Not to worry. I’ll probably get my days straight before tomorrow. Maybe. It’s such a […]
