What Remains
Cassidy Macdonald
- Location
- Newport Beach, California, USA
- Birthday
- June 13
- Title
- Ghost
- Company
- GhostDustersInk.com
MY RECENT POSTS
- His Strong Toil of Grace
January 22, 2012 09:59PM - The Orchard of my Mother
October 13, 2011 07:24PM - Pearl Harbor on the Bayou
August 05, 2011 10:29AM - E.G. regrets he's unable to
lunch today
July 27, 2011 08:21PM - Art over Disease
July 12, 2011 10:50AM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “I haven't been to Nova
Scotia, only to Scotia
Antiqua. Digby
sounds
interesting.”
July 12, 2011 08:29PM - “Thanks for thinking
so.”
July 12, 2011 11:47AM - “Thank you from Jack
who's reading you by
starlight.”
July 08, 2011 06:11PM - “Thanks, Maggie from
Cassidy and Ag!”
June 02, 2011 05:16PM - “How kind of you to
suffer such bleating!”
May 06, 2009 01:03AM
Cassidy Macdonald's Links
His Strong Toil of Grace
Doug said he didn’t like Shakespeare: “too difficult”. Yet, he quoted Macbeth as he remembered reading every work of Faulkner when he was serving his country in Taiwan in 1967. “…a tale told by an idiot, full
… Read full post »The Orchard of my Mother
The Orchard of my Mother
My mother loved to read and to drive fast. When she crashed her car into the handicapped elevator at the back of the library, she didn’t
… Read full post »Pearl Harbor on the Bayou
There was no sea there to search for pearls for a
California girl, a coastal creature used to the magnificent Pacific
at her feet. Instead, she had been railed into a swamp along the
Mississippi Delta. Despite the barbed wire and chigger-infested
woods, Tat carved with her penknife/
E.G. regrets he's unable to lunch today
Aren’t we loads of those we have lost? Take the word, loads. Every birthday card from Aunt Mary, the invalid next door, was signed, loads. I have been sending her loads ever since I learned to write my name. Here she is in the center of the picture before she became/
… Read full post »Art over Disease
I don’t have a photo of Inez but every time I see
kelp and seaweed, I look again because of Inez. I had watched her
sketching the kelp, holding her pencil like a claw, her art opening
despite her arthritic fingers. Her smile was huge, scalloped like
the/
My dad lost a lot. When he was two years old, he lost
his father who died from complications from being gassed in the
trenches during the Great War. He lost his mother next, who had to
go to work to support her two sons. Jack was angry/
It’s so easy to remember awkward, embarrassing situations with people—laugh and forget about them, much harder to search through all those ordinary moments shared. We still laugh about when my mother and mother-in-law, Ag, missed their plane and arrived back at our house in… Read full post »



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