by Deb Farris | Feb 11, 2017 | Musings
My father’s hands wore away the front and back covers of his Bible. The binding is cracked and if he were still around, I know that he’d eventually have it rebound. He took good care of his books. But I like it the way it is. If I’m not careful, the leather...
by Deb Farris | Jan 6, 2017 | Musings
Epiphany: A moment when you finally feel that you understand. (Cambridge English Dictionary) I can just barely see a single star as I squint into the dark early morning sky. Shades of navy are beginning to layer up as the sun nears the horizon, competing with the...
by Deb Farris | Nov 26, 2016 | Musings
Eyes rested, ears soothed, enchanted, now you travel. No stone impedes your progress. The thin veil reveals only forms, edges, outlines, and yet, wonders above, before, beneath draw to you ever active, creative, guiding, protective strength. Newness. Life. Energy...
by Deb Farris | Nov 22, 2016 | Musings
I thought I’d let too much of the afternoon get away from me. I had wanted to take a walk. I shut the door behind me as the sun was going under, the wind changed direction off the lake within a couple blocks, and I was sorry I hadn’t worn an extra layer....
by Deb Farris | Aug 6, 2016 | Family, Uncategorized
A lot of miles were put on Volkswagons in our family—from Bugs to Carmen Ghias to Westfalia Vans—Dad loved them. My parents made many trips to Tucson in their white Westfalila to visit my sister and her family. Dad, the Eagle Scout, liked to camp, Mom liked hotels....
