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Month: January 2019

Hey Daffodils—It’s January!

It’s January on the Gulf Coast. The 100 daffodil bulbs I planted are unable to contain their enthusiasm. They have burst from the ground (expected) and are blooming (unexpected).

The daffodil advance guard


Yep, that’s rabbit poop on a stump in our backyard. Apparently, swamp rabbits do this. Who knew?

And we finish with Wilson, lodged behind the tire. He’s probably afraid of the rabbits.

I blame the unruly wind for this travesty.

Silly daffodils. Don’t they know it’s still winter?

Drawn by my friend Roy DeLeon

Inspire Community Cafe is Open!

Inspire Community Cafe which I wrote about earlier is now open! I’m gonna let these photos speak for themselves except to say it is the best combination of great food, great space, great mission, and full out cuteness I’ve ever seen.

Go visit soon! 510 Tillman St Suite 110, Memphis, TN 38112

The counter in sunlight
The latte was delicious!
Next month the Memphis School of Servant Leadership will be the featured nonprofit partner
Private meeting space for community groups
Isn’t this a great light fixture?
A bright and personable space
The shelves are full. of handmade products from nonprofit partners
This month Bridges was the featured nonprofit partner

These are the Only Important Things

The Saints lost.

Evangeline in happier days

The full Wolf moon rose so close you could touch, it but it burst a vessel and bled red.

A tiny shot of the Super Wolf blood moon
Today, January 21, Martin Luther King Jr Day, is one of service

The little boy, thinking about the 5 acts of kindness he has been commissioned to do today on Martin Luther King Day, drew a picture of the tents beneath the interstate on Claiborne Avenue that he drives past in his city where “the people have no homes.”

This is a voodoo daffodil bulb drying in the hidden chambers of the Morris Ice Company, which my family sold at the end of 2018.

Voodoo Daffodil

A small press loved The Bone Trench enough to say “We are fans,” and even though it didn’t fit their list, they recommended other, subversive presses—perhaps I misperceive my writing: me, subversive?

Mother Mary in her more obedient days

My husband is the best grandfather ever, which is what he intended to do when he retired: be a grandfather. He’s doing a really good job with it.

And that is all important.

And for 2019?

I think of the specifics we wish for each other at the new year’s beginning—good health, loving family, dreams fulfilled—and I know it can’t be. Because this is Life. Even now, those I care about are facing health challenges, overwhelming obligations and anxiety while fighting rolling fogs of unknown troubles.

So what do I wish for?

Unexpected gifts. Pleasant surprises. The discovery of new skills and appreciation of old talents. Awareness of happiness as it creeps into your life.

A slowing down of the grinding pace of life. Relief. Bursts of joy. Contentment. Pride. Satisfaction of accomplishment. Acceptance of endings and beginnings. A calming of fears. The determination that you, not circumstances, will define your peace.

New Orleans in the fog of New Year’s Eve

In this spirit, last night, after a wonderful dinner at Peche and a pleasant New Year’s Eve, when the neighbor (predictably) cranked up the music, my husband said, “Well, he’s due,” and I said, “Let’s take these blankets and sleep in the living room.” So we drifted off to sleep, back-to-back, him on the sofa and me on the futon, awoken only once by the fireworks booming from Crescent Park in a splendiferous display of light.

Our back-to-back futon and sofa where we spent New Year’s Eve

And, because it can’t hurt to ask, let us wish that I sell a manuscript, the Saints win the Super Bowl, and WordPress quits fooling with its format. 🙂

© 2017 - Ellen Morris Prewitt |