Kathy Brasby Blog
When you need a translator
“What do you think this says?” my husband studied a small box he’d lifted from the shelf at the grocery store. “Do you know any of these words?” I browsed the ingredient list. Browsed in the sense that I tried to put letters together to make words. I knew the letters...
Our adventure
From the time he decorated himself like a Christmas tree , our youngest has brought adventures to our life. He was the one who rummaged through his father’s toolbox so that he could remove the training wheels from his bike after one day on his little bike. “Those get...
The new puppy
My nephews met me at the door of their house. Well, they bounced to the front door and shook their hands like wet rags while they rebounded like pogo sticks. I let myself in. “We have a new puppy!” said the five year old. “He’s our very new puppy. We have a new...
A bonding experience
When the mouse skittered across the corner of our kitchen, our family had a rainbow of responses. Mom and oldest brother sprang to the attack, stomping the mouse’s terrified wake. Younger sister leaped to a chair and stood there, holding her cheeks with her hands. She...
Saber’s Idea
The reason the boys were ready for me when I pulled up in the big van was what they held in their hands. “We found these!” Saber unfolded his palm to show me a rubber ball on an elastic band. I’ve seen plenty of rubber balls. I began a jaded smile and then he threw...
That first bike
My first bike quickly resembled a pancake but not in my eyes. In my eyes, it had red steamers flowing from the handlebars, sparkles along the bright paint on the frame, and a big white horn on the front. I was only six and, knowing my parents’ financial state at the...
Not so ordinary
There were no ordinary days with our youngest at age five. I was fixing dinner one evening when he wandered into the kitchen. “What’s that?” he asked, studying the pan on the stove. “Hamburger patties.” He tilted his head. “Can I call it sook?” “Those are still...
Big plans
Our pool table resided in the basement, piled high with boxes of outgrown clothes and books to be donated. I listed the pool table for sale. That way the boxes could go away. A young man showed up with his buddy. I had asked $35 for the pool table even though I paid...
Superstitious?
“I do not understand superstitious people,” declared Carole as she shuffled paperwork on the desk beside mine. This topic had emerged unbidden from her mind and I looked up from my keyboard. “What do you mean? “I am amazed at people who trust in horse shoes or are...
