Rosie Preston

By Rosie Preston My two great-granddaughters who were spending the night looked very serious as they approached me. Brooklyn, the oldest, asked, “Nana,...

By Rosie Preston Some time ago, I had been cleaning a friend’s house whose laundry room was large enough to hang her clean clothes as well a bird cage....

My grandson recently said the above headline in a nice voice. For some reason, I’ve mulled over those five words. Could they make sense in a daily...

By Rosie Preston This is a true story; one I must have stored deep inside my golf ball-sized writing brain. Sometimes my great-grandchildren give me a...

By Rosie Preston A prelude to my mother’s poem Many years ago, I know my mom, had inside her heart a mere seed, a flower she held it for me No way to see...