by Deb Farris | Jul 1, 2020 | Musings
I love clothes. I do. If you know me you know that. And if you don’t, now you do. But these days I wear my favorite jeans, T-shirt or hoodie. So, for a change, I decided to wear a dress and a wide-brimmed hat on my walk. I’m trying to wake up the creative gene,...
by Deb Farris | Mar 28, 2020 | Devotions
Distraction. I can only imagine the hopscotch we are playing across the internet. I stop playing. I keep my routine. I begin each day in my corner of the couch, Todd in his. We drink coffee. He reads the papers and keeps me informed. I want summaries of local,...
by Deb Farris | Mar 27, 2020 | Devotions
They walked on the shoreline of La Saladita and she said she needed a coconut shell to carry the treasures she was collecting. Before she had even finished the sentence, she could feel his eyes roaming the sand. He found one within minutes and smashed it against a...
by Deb Farris | Feb 8, 2020 | Devotions, Poetry
Walking through the woods in an icy winter snow when breath becomes crystallized and trees bejeweled Or walking in the spring when a tree births new buds and leaves trails of sweet scents lingering Or napping beneath a summer umbrella of limbs as breezes, scarves of...
by Deb Farris | Jun 16, 2019 | Greater Good, Musings
“Sit down over here,” Todd said Saturday morning as I pulled a chair out from the table under an umbrella. “We can sit together. The sun is passing. You’ll be in the shade.” Even with a medication that warns against sun exposure, not to mention general dermatologists’...
