Childhood memories are peculiar things.  There are moments captured and burned into memory like a still photo.  The memory of voices carry emotions that bring the distant scene to life in an instant.  I don’t remember that much from New York, I was only four after all. But I do remember my great-aunt’s pool (pool’s are impressive to …

As I sit here and write, the wind is stripping the last bit of gold from swaying sticks outside.  Fall has always been my favorite season, and I usually come out with a bang, changing up the décor, making way for pumpkins and spice and everything nice.   Then, before we know it, a soft blanket …