Author: Constance Patterson

FIDDLE STICKS

FIDDLE STICKS

Lately I have become aware of how the word fiddle can string you along. I already wrote about fiddle-dee-dee used as an expression of uselessness. But since then, I have become aware of its use in other strange curious circumstances, again having nothing to do with a fiddle being a string instrument. For instance, what…

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SYMPHONY FOR WIND AND TREES

SYMPHONY FOR WIND AND TREES

As we speed toward autumn, the nights are coming earlier, and the mornings arrive later. The calendar is winding down toward September, and today the air feels as it did when I dressed in plaid and scuffled my way through the leaves on my way to school. There is still a hint of humidity, and…

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WHAT’S MY LINE

WHAT’S MY LINE

Exactly what might I say in response to the question, “What’s my line?” Today I am a writer using a line of text to convey an idea, and a digital line to express another point of view. Yesterday as a designer I used ruled lines, my quarter inch scale, and drafting board to produce floor plans…

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PHOTOGRAPHIC PROCRASTINATION

PHOTOGRAPHIC PROCRASTINATION

My memory of childhood has little to do with black and white Kodak moments printed on glossy photographic paper. Those images, framed in white deckle, are family memories. They are copies of the updates shared with grandparents, aunts, uncles and old friends. Mother sent them off enclosed with her cards and letters keeping everyone up…

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JAVA JOY

JAVA JOY

It is early on a Sunday morning of what promises to be another hot summer day. The windows are open and the soft sounds of birds going about their birdy business create a haze of contentment. Normally I would be reading the paper and getting a grip on the outside world, but the paper guy…

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OUCH!!

OUCH!!

Well, I managed to splatter myself face first on a perfectly benign sidewalk. And contrary to popular belief, my life did not flash before my eyes. It was nevertheless, quite a spectacular fall. Due to extenuating circumstances, it is beyond my capacity to relate the entire sequence of events leading up to my pratfall in…

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THE FOUNDATION OF MEMORY

THE FOUNDATION OF MEMORY

After my mother died, I discovered some random photos tucked away in her desk. A small packet of memories carefully wrapped in an envelope worn soft from frequent use, with a little bit of cardboard to keep them flat, they were photographs of my late stepfather’s family. Gerhard kept them handy in case anyone thought…

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GOOD LUCK

GOOD LUCK

Stand Back from the shamrock. It is loaded for bear and aimed at bad luck. I may not be Irish, and green may not be my best color, but I am still in luck. I say this in all seriousness because over the past few weeks I have averted any number of bad news events…

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BIG DADDY KALE

BIG DADDY KALE

I have recently struck up an acquaintance with the Flavonoids … Big Daddy Kale, Momma Parsley, Uncle Edamame, Cousin Red Cabbage, Baby Berries, and all the rest. They are an odd bunch, the Flavonoids. As a family, aside from the name, they are mostly boring as hell. But I have to say I respect them…

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