October 2010

Remembering Mem

Katie J. Miller December 14, 1920 — October 24, 2005 The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. ~ Cicero As I say good-bye to October, my thoughts go back five years, when my mother (Mem) had just died (on October 24, 2005, the same day as Rosa Parks). In my third semester at Smith […]

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More Kindred Connections

In my recent post “Kindred Connections” I wrote about my long-ago and lately rekindled connection to John and Pat Anderson. A friend of Pat Anderson’s named Lynn Kimmerle, recently called me about reviewing my book. She let me know she received a galley copy from my publisher a few days ago, so I thought it would be a while before

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Leaves of October

Today was a true Indian Summer day… we had Squaw Winter these past ten days or so, which makes Indian Summer official, according to my mother.   My husband and I were painting trim boards for the outside of the house this afternoon. It got breezy at some point, so that the bright autumn leaves were drifting out of the

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Kindred Connections

Thirty years ago, when I was living with the Jake Kurtz family and teaching in a one-room Amish school, the Kurtzes and I would get frequent “Yankee” visitors. (I’ve since found out that my home community is the only one that uses this term — most Amish use the term “English” or “Englishers.” I believe the reason that the Geauga

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Around the Mountain

I remember my mother singing or playing on her harmonica “She’ll be comin’ around the mountain when she comes…” when I was a child. I had to think of her singing that song when David and I rode our bikes on the other side of Sugarloaf Mountain. (We live almost underneath the two Sugarloaf Mountains.) We were in South Deerfield,

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Amish Peanut Butter

An Amishman in Indiana once explained (with a distinct air of gravity) that one thing which people who leave the Amish church always miss is the Sunday peanut spread. ~ Erik Wesner, Amish America My husband and I took a Sunday drive this afternoon, to southern Vermont and the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts and now I’m too tired to write

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