The other day while going through one of my father’s storage cartons, I found a letter-sized box labeled “leaves.”
How a jonquil helped me relax after a busy day.
An introduction to a periodic series of journal posts reflecting on living with war, both past and present.
Several weeks ago I watched my outside thermometer drop to -13° Fahrenheit by bedtime, not an unusual winter temperature for Vermont. But that isn’t the coldest weather I’ve experienced, not by a long shot.
My mother earned two medical degrees, the first in 1936 and the second twelve years later. She always displayed the 1936 Chinese diploma in the most prominent spot.
When I was a child, every now and then I would find my parents slicing and dicing garlic, ginger, vegetables, and meats—a sure sign they were getting ready to cook a Chinese meal.
My love of mountains began in childhood in the Appalachian mountains…but living in Alaska changed my life.
An oil painting of a stunning mountain landscape hung in my childhood home.…Few people outside of the mountaineering world know of this mountain on the eastern rim of the Tibetan plateau, but in my family the Minya Konka is the stuff of stories.
My parents were newlyweds in 1930 when they crossed the Pacific Ocean to Shanghai, China. They were bound for the city of Chengdu in Sichuan province and their first of two tours of duty as medical missionaries.
Follow My Journal
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.