LOVE Archives - Ellen Morris Prewitt

Silver Linings in a Cloud

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on March 17, 2020. Posted in General, LOVE. 16 Comments

It is 9:00am. I have walked the dog, fried eggs for breakfast, and wiped down all the frequently touched surfaces in the apartment. I’ve taken out the trash and the recycle, fed the dog, and helped my husband with his needs as a post-surgery patient. I’ve cleaned the dishes and started a load of laundry. Between care duties and the coronavirus,...

Happy Mardi Gras, Y’all!

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on February 25, 2020. Posted in General, LOVE. Leave a Comment

Undersea creatures, Ground Control, Major Tom, and Laika the Space Dog Major Tom’s jet packs Major Tom + Laika in the Bywater “Take your protein pill and put your helmet on” HAPPY MARDI GRAS 2020!!!!!

We are Wonders of the Universe

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on January 25, 2020. Posted in General, HOMELESSNESS, LOVE, Writing. 2 Comments

They were strangers to me. One I had met the Sunday before and spoken with for about five minutes. The workshop host I had admired mostly from afar and met with to set up the workshop. The group had a mother and daughter in it, but otherwise, they appeared to be as unknown to each other as they were to me. Now, we, this group of strangers, were...

That is Life

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on January 11, 2020. Posted in General, LOVE. 4 Comments

Last night, riding home, we watched the clouds pass across the moon, revealing and retreating. Gandy, the boys, and me—tracking, commenting, announcing our sightings when the moon revealed itself. Sighing when it hid its light. A normal night turned magical. * The youngest...

The Art of Canoeing

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on November 16, 2019. Posted in General, LOVE. 4 Comments

When I married the first time, my parents gave me a bed as my wedding gift. A fancy, romantic, four-poster bed. It was what I asked for. By the time I quit that marriage, my husband hadn’t had sex with me in a month of Sundays. When I married this time, I asked for a canoe. Canoeing, like love, is not for the faint of heart. Unlike love, however,...

Those People on the Wall

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on November 13, 2019. Posted in General, LOVE. 4 Comments

I know what my ancestors looked like because their portraits hung on the wall. This is something I’ve always taken for granted. The portraits hang at what we call “505” (the house has a real name under the National Register of Historic Places—the Joseph Henry Morris House—but no one calls it anything but 505.) This man, the...

Central Station Hotel

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on October 26, 2019. Posted in General, LOVE. 2 Comments

When I heard Memphis developer Henry Turley was renovating the old central train station into a hotel, I was ecstatic. When I heard he was turning the current ticket office for the train into a bar, not so much. I ride the train. I use the ticket office and waiting area when coming and going on the train. I did not want developers to take a...

South Main, Y’all

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on October 19, 2019. Posted in General, LOVE. Leave a Comment

In my neighborhood, Saturday mornings are: guests brewing on the sidewalks outside coffee shops women so new to their bicycles that I walk in the street to stay safe an elderly hat-wearing man who could be a prophet or celebrity. Or homeless. headphones and horn honks and posing for photos in front of the Blues Museum cowboy boots...

NOLA Magic

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on September 30, 2019. Posted in General, LOVE. 2 Comments

Do you ever find yourself quoting yourself from an earlier conversation you’ve had? Me, too. So here’s a post I posted on Facebook recently. I thought I’d share it with y’all. Tom and I walk Evangeline down the street, and I remember when we first arrived in New Orleans almost eight years ago. I spent every day...

Memories Unearthed by Dorian…

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on September 6, 2019. Posted in General, LOVE. 6 Comments

She was young, the same delicate age as my vulnerable grandson is now. Full of pip, but spindly arms and legs, no bigger than a minute. All she’d ever known was the lapping of the Gulf, innocent of actual waves. Even so, had she grown up with the Atlantic, it wouldn’t have mattered. A riptide is a riptide. We were exploring our...