Women In-Spirit

“It had been startling and disappointing to me to find out that story books had been written by people, that books were not natural wonders, coming up of themselves like grass. Yet regardless of where they come from, I cannot remember a time when I was not in love with them -- with the books themselves, cover and binding and the paper they were printed on, with their smell and their weight and with their possession in my arms, captured and carried off to myself. Still illiterate, I was ready for them, committed to all the reading I could give them ...”      - Eudora Welty  I have always been in love with books. Luckily I was born into a family of book lovers that could not physically pass a book store without stopping in "for just a second." I remember my first bookstore in downtown Springfield, Mass. it was called Johnson's. Multi-floored with new books, art supplies and my favorite area the used books. Towers of bookshelves and stacks upon stacks of books. It w

  In my jewelry box two pieces sit side by side in silent companionship. What stories could they share with each other? Conversations of family, adventures, and celebrations I imagine are whispered quietly within. Each piece could not be more different in style or design. One is of a classical nature and the other a bit more modern in form. Each speaks to me of the personality of two women I have never met though with both I share DNA. I am their Great Grand daughter. Elizabeth Christie Kindred my Fathers Grandmother of English descent and the other Emilia Olofsdotter Widestrand my Mothers Grandmother from Sweden. This necklace belonged to Emilia. When I take the long strand of black beads in my hand I lace them through my fingers. The stones are silky soft, smooth and each is knotted in place. The pendant, a silver round of concentric circles, the outer circle a border of inlaid diamonds. In the center a star burst with eight points and a center diamond. Like a compass in a wa

Sara Teasdale.   Some years ago now, at a library book sale, I came across two small volumes joined together with a rubber band. I was living in Carlsbad, CA and that particular library used to set up a section of antique books...it was always the first stop for me. There is something special about an old book with it's usually worn cover, dog eared pages and sometimes if I'm lucky a little something extra will be tucked amongst the pages, something forgotten. You can always tell a book that has been loved as the energy of a past owner still lingers. In this case the slim volume was "Flame and Shadow" by Sara Teasdale, published in 1920  and the other, a newer volume of the collected works of Teasdale. Both had been owned by the same person as handwriting in both was the same and obviously this woman had loved the poetry of Sara. The borders full of notes and thoughts.  I had the feeling that I had found a treasure...and I was right. I fell in love with her wor