nancymclelland0

How many good stories do we have? This is one of my best. It’s about finding a beautiful turquoise and silver necklace in a box of hand-me-downs. Probably 1954 or ‘55. That would make me thirteen or fourteen. Not yet in high school. The box came to us in Elko, Nevada from Mom’s aunt, Irene Stanworth, Canoga Park, California. The exotic necklace stayed in Mom’s top dresser drawer for the next fifteen years. In 1972, Mom and Dad made their first visit to Albuquerque. My husband, Doug,...

The callithump in James’ brain rose and fell o’er his mental terrain. Who was the bride? Who was the groom? Who was the clown with a red balloon? Accustomed to eat his cereal with thoughts sere and funereal, why the epithalamium in his venerable cranium? Did he deserve unnerving joy? Was he a lexicographer's toy who could decathect grumpiness contemplating callithumpiness?

“If at eighty you're not a cripple or an invalid, if you have your health, if you still enjoy a good walk, a good meal…, if you can sleep without first taking a pill, if birds and flowers, mountains and sea still inspire you, you are a most fortunate individual and you should get down on your knees morning and night and thank the good Lord for his savin' and keepin' power…if you can be turned on by a fetching bottom or a lovely pair of teats, if you can fall in love again and again, if you...