Love Story 8.

April, 2014. There was the front door, I could hear it from my room where I was sweeping. It was a bright yellow room, hung all over with photos, posters, dried roses and notes. It felt on display and I was nervous. “Oh…dear…why is he here? to Examine me? To see if I measure up? Well…

The Love Story 7.

  What I knew at the beginning of the day was that I had been scared to death of not doing a good enough job. The bride was a photographer I respected, so were her parents. I was a peewee from Georgia, who liked taking pictures of mailboxes and frogs. And people – when I…

The Love Story 6.

Jane Austen observed well that, “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.” I could plead none otherwise than guilty to this charge, and it was well reflected in my writing at the time. You see, he did in fact, not tell me his thoughts,…

The Love Story 5.

The mystery as to “why none of those Fulmer kids are married yet”, came and went about as often as the front door swung open and shut. We finally cast it up to Daddy and Mama that perhaps if they’d make life a little less exciting and pleasant at home, then it’d be easier to…

The Love Story.4

Life at the Grey Submarine wound its way through January’s cold days, and was full to the brim of the sweet nectar of home we take for granted, or intentionally savor while we’re still there. My thoughts were full of ‘that Barrett Boy’, as Daddy called him, and once or twice I thought back on…

The Love Story. 2

“Sunday Evening – well, midnight 12.29.13  It was the last huzzah. The boys were over. We had company over to lunch today. Mama made delicious hot spoon rolls. Daddy had to stay home from church so mama stayed with him. By the time we got home daddy was feeling better, but he stayed in his corner…