The Grammy and Granddaughter Book Club
By Janice Lindsay
Was it legal for a grown-up to have this much fun in a bookstore? To smile and even chuckle as she turned...
Things to be suspicious of
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
While contemplating the arrival of the new year, I came upon a few cautionary notes I had written to myself,...
Christmas trees, real and not
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
Every Christmas, I say, “Maybe this year, I should have a real tree instead of the artificial one.” Every year,...
Eighty five years of too many books
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
This year marks the 85th anniversary of the start of what is sometimes called “the modern paperback revolution,” which made...
Mattie is with me when I vote
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
When my mother was born, there was no guarantee that this baby girl would have the right to vote for...
Slump, buckle, and grunt
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
August is the season for slump, buckle, and grunt. And for crumble, roly poly, flummery, fool, duff, puff, fluff, strum,...
Hearing the music
By Janice Lindsay
One summer night when I was around 10, I lay alone on the grass near my grandmother’s secluded house, gazing at the...
Six Seasons of the Year
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
As you read this, summer might be here or almost, but my summer began on Tuesday afternoon, May 5, around...
Our Secret Mom-Poetry Project
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
Throughout the secret project, the children impressed me the most. They all knew the secret, they all helped, and they...
The gardening gene skipped me
By Janice Lindsay, Contributing Writer
I am not now, nor have I ever been, a gardener. I love flowers. I grew up among gardens both...
