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Correction for “Two Things.” Blog was actually published for FIVE years, not four.  Dorothy C. Judd ————————————–30———————————————–

One year of teaching second grade, I had a little boy who, every day, would dash into the classroom holding up two skinny fingers saying, “Mrs. Judd, I have TWO things I wanna tell you!” Well, today I have two … Continue reading →

When the weather was inclement or during the off-season, my father puttered around the house. My mother claimed he walked around fixing things before they  broke. Or he worked in the cellar, organizing hardware in jars whose tops had been … Continue reading →

When my father left the house in the morning, he carried a black canvas shopping bag which had just a sandwich in it: usually cheese, egg salad, or a fried egg. On the way he would add the Boston “Post” … Continue reading →

Sometimes people were waiting at the door of the Paul Revere House when my father opened it at 10 o’clock, but after that visitors would knock on the heavy door with the knocker. Sometimes a group would arrive all at … Continue reading →

6 days a week, 50 weeks a year, for 30 years my father (Garner T. Corson) went to work as the caretaker of Boston’s famous Paul Revere House. My mother was already in charge there when they met in 1932, … Continue reading →

Four years ago, cursive writing was all but declared dead. About 42 states had dropped its teaching from the required curriculum. Instead instruction focused on keyboarding with the goal that students be proficient in that skill at least by the … Continue reading →

Have been working on two posts, but neither one is ready to be shared. So…in the meantime, here are some random thoughts and reactions I’ve had recently. While reading Elin Hilderbrand’s “The Identicals,” recognized myself in this sentence: “She doesn’t … Continue reading →

My Dad Writing about root- beer-making recently unleashed a flood of memories about my father. One of the first must be from when I was  two or three (and I know it was then because we were still living on … Continue reading →

Bixby   9/2001  3/2008   RIP, Bixby Bright golden eyes look out at me from a small triangular face.     Bixby pounces down from his cat tree and growls fiercely as he chases fat old Barnum.  His super long … Continue reading →