The Reindeer Keeper

  SO VERY HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE! My short story, "BATHTUB APPLES", earned Honorable Mention in Saturday Evening Post's "Great American Fiction Contest, 2026. "BATHTUB APPLES" is included in "THE SATURDAY EVENING POST'S 2026 ANTHOLOGY" now available on Amazon/Kindle Edition.

  We are in the midst of my favorite month of the year and so far, it could be described as an old-fashion January with lots of snow and wind. Blizzards. Rain. More snow. Perfect January weather. But with such perfect weather comes the need for some best friends. * SOUPS: A favorite soup I make this time of year is a soup my mother used to make & we all enjoyed. Over the years it was nicknamed, "Witch's Brew," because of the little acini di pepe as one of the ingredients resembling something that might be found in a witch's brewing pot of ghoul. The longer the acini di pepe sat in the chicken broth, the better they tasted. * SWEATERS: I love sweaters. The older the better. The more you wear them the warmer and cozier they make you feel. Many years ago, when my hometown had a downtown there was a store called The Surprise Store. It was a department store and with each purchase you earned S & H Green Stamps. It was also the place to go for sweaters. I sti...

Growing up in the country there are places that become favorite places when you are young and playing and pretending with friends throughout the year. And when the seasons change, the play changes as well. I did most of my playing with my cousins. Mainly, my cousin Carol.  I've written about my grandfather's barn with two large haylofts connected by a wooden bridge and the empty chicken roosts empty because my grandfather had to close down his farm due to asthma. I've gone on and on about the chicken coop void of chickens, cleaned out, then filled with the remains of a closed one-room schoolhouse up the road. Those remains included the books, desks and chalkboards. Students were being bussed to nearby public schools. That happened before my parents moved us to the country. (Us meaning my sister, my brother and me).  The chicken coop void of chickens and filled with the remains of the one-room schoolhouse is where I would play with my cousins most days after school, on the w...

I knew if I did not make the banana bread yesterday that I had been planning on making, the bananas would be beyond rotten. They were already rotten enough. So, out came the pans and ingredients. The oven was on preheat. And my son Brian, was working on his latest piece of art on the kitchen counter. While he has two art desks, he sometimes prefers the kitchen counter because of the windows. So, as I was getting ready to mix the ingredients, he asked me what I was going to make. He loves banana bread, so his interest perked. As I began peeling the bananas, he told me they were rotten. I told him my grandmother (nicknamed Giddy) always said the rottener the bananas, the better, the tastier the bread. I told him it was her recipe that I was using. This led to talking about my grandmother and her woodstove and her recipes, her aprons, her bowl that I was putting the rotten bananas in. "That is Giddy's bowl?" he asked. "Yes. Maybe she used it when making her banana brea...

Take a ride down most any country road in northern New York and you will see at one time or another, cornstalks lining up like soldiers out in the fields. Some of those fields seem to stretch as far as the horizon. Growing up about a mile out on one of those country roads, playing outside with my cousin whenever possible, cornstalks would on occasion become part of our pretending, especially in the summertime. There was a field adjacent to my grandparents' farmhouse and on certain days when our pretending was on overload, that field full of cornstalks would work its way into our adventure-like the time we found our way out to the middle of that field. Then plopped down and made a cornstalk house. That meant bending some stalks. Crushing a few to the ground for cornstalk tables & chairs. Crushing a few more for cornstalk beds with cornstalk pillows. We would pretend our cornstalk house had windows from which we could "spy on the adults." We were certain they never saw ...

  With the geese flying and the leaves turning, Autumn is upon us with all of its splendor. And now with those leaves falling, walking through them is as enjoyable as it was when growing up.  Besides walking through them when growing up, raking them was just as fun. My cousin and I would rake them into a huge pile. Then we would divide them into smaller piles. From those smaller piles we would construct leaf houses using our rakes as our tools. After forming leaf walls into place, we would divide the house into rooms. The bedrooms would be complete with leaf beds complete with leaf pillows. The kitchen would include a leaf table with matching leaf chairs. We played in our leaf houses until the wind blew them away. When outside the other day, watching my grandson raking leaves that had fallen and then jumping into the huge pile of leaves he created, I had the strangest thought.  The best Toy Company ever is the one created by Mother Nature, if that was ever possible. When ...

  I hardly ever wore crinolines under my skirts way back when wearing crinolines underneath skirts was the fad. Not participating in a fad was unusual for me. After all, I ran to a department store located in the downtown of where I lived the moment Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe" grabbed my attention. I had to have bellbottoms and short-sleeved ribbed sweaters. I had to grow my hair down to my waist. But crinolines were a different story. I didn't like all of that netting. I didn't like my skirts pushed way out in front of me even when most of my friends wore crinolines all the time.  However, there are most always exceptions to most anything-even when it comes to wearing crinolines if crinolines aren't your thing. For me, that exception came when my grandmother made me a velvet green dress to wear to a Christmas party. It was going to be held in a grand old hotel in that downtown where I lived. My date was a freshman at a nearby college. He was so cute. We...

  I am happy to say I can again attach photos to my Blogger posts. That means I will be back posting more often. To me, a photo enhances a post so here we go again. As summer drifts into fall small changes in the landscape are becoming obvious. The clouds seem fuller. Closer to the earth. Their presence speak of the magic taking place. Shades of green seem to be creating a blanket of softness reminiscent of a favorite old sofa welcoming you back with its comfortable old cushions. Most trees, except for a few poplar trees, remain dressed in their leaves. Most of those leaves, except for the poplar leaves, have yet to change color. Those that have, turned to a mellow yellow.  Thanks to the wind, those mellow yellow leaves are spreading themselves about the field. And because of the wind, all the surrounding poplar trees with their precious yellow leaves sound like violins playing out in that magical field, changing once again. Mother Nature certainly out did herself again, turni...

PLEASE NOTE: (I am still unable to include a photo with a Post. I was waiting to post again when the problem was fixed but I have decided to get back to posting my little stories. I hope you enjoy. Photos will soon return.) HOME:  Most of us will go through   life having more than a few places we will call Home. As life goes on, those places will remain with us no matter where we go. That is because home is defined in our hearts. Home tugs at us. Like a bird in its nest, we know when we are there. Home wraps us up in warmth like an old, tattered quilt. Home keeps the world away. Home allows us to be still. I have a few places I call home. The one that comes to mind more often than not was my first home. The home where I grew up before we moved to the country when I was in the third grade. I remember every nook and cranny of that clapboard house situated along a lane. I can still feel the 2nd step going down into my bedroom move whenever I was coming or going. I can still hear ...

(PLEASE NOTE: I have not been able to upload photos onto my Blog Posts so I have not blogged in a while. But I finally decided to go for it without photos until the time I figure out the problem. If you would like to see the photo that I intended to add with this post, both are on my Facebook page: The Reindeer Keeper). The Post Begins Here: When my older brother was a toddler, he nicknamed our grandmother Giddy. That nickname stayed with her over the years. Giddy worked from the minute she got up to the minute she went to bed. When going downstairs in the morning, she would be wearing one of her house dresses. Functional, with pockets, wearing such a loose-fitting dress made it easier for her to move about the old farmhouse as she cooked, mended, sewed, knitted, crocheted, braided rugs, did the wash, hung it out on the line to dry, did the ironing, baked bread, made donuts and cookies and tarts, prepared meals, cleaned-up, tended to six daughters, helped her husband in the...

  I knew at some point the magnificent poplar tree standing proudly in front of our home would have to come down. It was showing signs of aging. It was getting tired. Because it was so close to the road, I worried it might fall on a passing vehicle. With great sadness I contacted who I needed to contact and shortly after that, the magnificent and glorious Poplar tee was taken down. I know it was just a tree but growing up I loved listening to the leaves of the Poplar trees lining my grandparents' cinder driveway. Their singing was music to me so when my son Brian and I moved to the country with that mighty Poplar tree greeting us with its own melodies, I felt at home. Sometimes when the wind was blowing in the night, the mighty Poplar would wake me up singing its soulful song. The rustling of its leaves was soothing, telling me everything would be just fine, lulling me back to sleep. Whenever I was out in the garden, the Poplar was right there with me, moving its precious leaves li...

Getting a kitten was never a resolution. That is too strong of a word. It was more a Hope that at some point, it would happen if all the stars aligned. In other words, if having a kitten would work out in our home due to my son Brian using a walker. I had visions of a kitten getting in his way. Making him trip. Fall down. So, for a long time, I ignored wanting a kitten. That changed when Brian brought the subject of getting a kitten up, telling me it was a good idea. So did my two grandchildren. Not long after that a search began for our long overdue kitten. My grandchildren and I found the kitten on an Amish farm in a big, old Amish barn full of kittens. We named the kitten Daphne only to later be told by a vet that Daphne was a male. It was my son who named our kitten, Tony. And Tony joined our family in early summer. Tony fit in immediately. It was as if he was custom-made for our situation. He seems to sense the meaning of the walker. He stays out of Brian's way. If he happens ...

  I loved playing TEA PARTY when I was a little girl. Most of the time they were tea parties with pretend friends I named Chunny and Winnie. Our tea parties were always held in the summertime, on an enclosed back porch where the sun and a nice breeze came through the screened windows. My favorite dolls and stuffed animals would join us. They loved being served pretend chocolate chip cookies. So did Chunny and Winnie. So, did I. I wish I had photos of those tea parties, but I don't. There were no cell phones way back then. That's why I was so excited when finding the above photo of another Tea Party, not with Chunny and Winnie but with my cousin Carol and my older brother, Johnny. The tea party was held just outside my grandparents' farmhouse. If you look above my cousin, you can see a bit of my grandfather's barn. At that time, the barn was home to cows, horses and chickens. When we were older, we played up in the hay mows in the barn and in our grandfather's nearby...

  I have written before about my intrigue of old barns. Lucky for me, I am surrounded by them. Some are in rougher shape than others. Some look as if the slightest wind will bring them down. They all have stories to tell. The problem is so many of those stories will never be heard. The wind will make sure of that. Here is one story that beat those odds. The story actually began when I was maybe 12 or 13 and tragically lost my cat. While I would go on to get married and have children and we most always had a cat or two, I never felt close to any of them. I am sure I held myself back from embracing them in fear of losing them. About fourteen years ago, I moved out to the country. My oldest son lives with me as he deals with MS. We love where we live. Out back there is a small barn. It is not in the best shape but over the years, that never stopped stray cats from calling that barn home for as long as needed. I never bothered much with the strays until the last few years. I started to...

    The little tree dressed up in its finest yellow leaves stands out back near the garden as proud as a young girl dressed up in her most beautiful gown when going to the prom. This is the first year I have seen that precious tree in such glory, as if the little Elves of Autumn came tiptoeing about under the Harvest moon and with their Elf paints and crayons, turned the little tree's leaves into shades of magical yellows, whimsical under the sun, and the moon, that breathtaking Harvest moon. When leaves on trees do change colors, it seems like it happens overnight. One day they are green. The next day they are glorious shades of crimsons, oranges, yellows. Their colors and aroma tell you Autumn is approaching. Hurry. Get ready. So much to do. Move lawn furniture inside. Close the pool. Get the rakes. Start raking. Clean the windows. Clear the gardens. Pour the cider. Get the sweaters out. Bake some zucchini cookies. Zucchini bread. Pumpkin bread and pies. Pumpkin cookies. Mol...

 IN RECOGNITION of SEPTEMBER BEING NATIONAL SEWING MONTH I have written extensively about my mother’s fabric shop which was attached to our home out in the country where I spent many a school evening ‘designing’ outfits instead of doing homework, especially math. When I was in my preteens my grandmother taught sewing on Saturday mornings during the winter in my mother's shop. That is where I learned about darts and inseams, marking, and pinning patterns and secrets on how to cut patterns out. While it took me forever to trim a pattern, pin it to the fabric, and cut it out, my grandmother did it in lightning speed. And when she was not the instructor, she would be in her home, in her sewing room sitting at her little black Singer sewing machine with a tape measure around her neck, pumping the foot pedal and turning out one beautifully sewn item after another. She had the eye for her artform and when you have the eye, creativity is the driving force. My mother also had the eye. She w...

 My son  Brian & I had been thinking about getting a kitten for the longest time but there was always a reason why we put it off. Truth is those reasons were just excuses. My excuses. The thought of bringing a kitten into our home exhausted me. I did not welcome the responsibility. Besides Brian wanting us to get a kitten, so did my two grandchildren, ages 11 and 14. I would keep telling them "Pretty soon." Then they would get busy, or I would get busy, and it never happened. Until this past week. Another summer was quickly passing by and soon, I told myself, they would not bother to ask about going for a kitten. They'd have more important things to do. And so, late one morning this past week, after telling Brian what I was up to, I picked those two grandchildren up. I said we were going to lunch and then maybe Alex Bay for the afternoon. After having our lunch, I told them I had to make a quick trip to Walmart. Once inside, I put a few things in my cart. Then I led ...

  I cut down the size of the garden this year by only planting basics. I'm trying hard to keep up with the weeds as well as the watering. Thanks to the rain that keeps on falling, watering has not been too much of a chore. In fact, the garden has become a labor of love. In years past, there was a separate garden for the pumpkins. The problem with that was the hose didn't reach it very well so I had to do the best I could. This year it was decided to only have the one smaller garden and within that garden, include the pumpkins. Having that one smaller garden has been ideal. The pumpkin patch is getting the water it needs. The pumpkin plants are healthy. Their vines are stretching out of the garden and tiptoeing into the yard. And yesterday while out pulling weeds, I discovered a pumpkin. A beautiful pumpkin covered up with leaves like a child wrapped up in a favorite blanket. As I kept on pulling weeds, I thought of pumpkin patches from years gone by. The reason for having a pum...

Remember the fun of coloring the clowns or the puppies and kittens and all the simple artwork in those coloring books when growing up? There was nothing better than sitting down with your Crayola crayons and your favorite coloring books and spending time simply coloring. Between the unforgettable scent of the crayons and the many choices of basic artwork in those coloring books, the time spent coloring was magical. And quite creative. Very creative. Just think. With your Crayola crayons you could color the sun pink, the grass blue, kittens green and puppies red. Stars could be purple. Bananas could be orange. Whatever your imagination chose, those familiar objects could change their familiar colors and dress up like its Halloween, disguising themselves just like we do. Summer is a never-ending coloring book with its pages beautifully colored by Mother Nature in shades of primary and secondary colors. Some soft. Some bold. With the warmth of the sun, summer's colors seem richer. The...

My 13-year-old granddaughter sent me a message last week asking if I would make her a strawberry-rhubarb pie for her 14th birthday. It felt like Christmas!  Of course I would make her a strawberry-rhubarb pie! As many as she would like! We decided I would deliver the pie for supper on her birthday. My son Brian and I would be staying for her Celebration supper, complete with a Special-Order Strawberry-Rhubarb pie! When that special day arrived, I decided to make an apple pie along with the strawberry-rhubarb pie.  Ingredients were measured and mixed and two pies were the result. I dressed up the Strawberry-Rhubarb pie since it represented what would have been her Birthday Cake. I wrapped both pies up in aluminum foil. Then placed them side by side on a wooden tray and placed that tray on the back seat. Off we went with the radio on high and the excitement growing.  As I made the last turn onto their road, I heard something. Something going on in the back seat. No! That wo...