| Site Owner: | Margaret DeAngelis |
| Site Name: | Markings: Days of Her Life |
| Site URL: | http://www.silkentent.com/Trees |
| Articles Posted: | 67 |
| Bio: |
Fast Away the Old Year Passes! Posted on Jan 1, 2026, 10:01 pm
Hail the new, ye lads and lasses!
It's Nine in the Evening, the End of December Posted on Dec 31, 2025, 10:12 pm
Honor the past but welcome the future
Starting Where I Am, Using What I Have, Doing What I Can Posted on Dec 30, 2025, 3:12 pm
Happy New Year's Eve Eve
So She [Didn't] Say Posted on Dec 29, 2025, 11:12 pm
I could read only two or three paragraphs. At that point I was informed that in order to read the rest of this individual’s journey to choosing her word of the year, I would have to PAY to read the rest. Evidently, she has several components to her online presence (so do I). This one, her most personal work, costs $80 a year. . .Here’s my pledge. Markings: Days of Her Life, will forever remain free. You can count on that.
Upside Down In the World Posted on Dec 28, 2025, 10:12 pm
The magical moments of this season are over. Let's move forward. There is work to be done.
Where Do We Go From Here? Posted on Dec 27, 2025, 10:12 pm
Where do we go from here? Wrong question. I know where I’m going from here: into the future. The better question: How do I go from here?”
Let Us Do What Is Right Posted on Dec 26, 2025, 10:12 pm
About the Feast of Stephen (today) and Beethoven's birthday (not today).
A Certain Slant of Light Posted on Dec 25, 2025, 10:12 pm
Tomorrow, the Feast of Stephen, I start a new notebook, a new calendar year, a new way of looking at my life, a new way that’s a lot like the old way, but with different questions that will need answers as I move into my future.
Once More with the Wagon Posted on Dec 24, 2025, 8:12 am
At this season of hope and renewal, may we see with fresh eyes the old stories, the stock characters, the expected endings.
Happy Saint Thorlak Thorhallson Day! Posted on Dec 23, 2025, 11:12 pm
Henceforth, I will not be observing Festivus anymore. Instead, I will honor St. Thorlak Thorhallsson, and observe Tollaksmessa
Speak Your Love. Speak It Again Posted on Dec 22, 2025, 8:12 pm
This is all I have to say tonight.
Egg Shells and Melisma Posted on Dec 21, 2025, 11:12 pm
Ten years ago, I informed Facebook:
Reading in Gail Godwin’s Evenings at Five, I come across “typical Rudy-ish melisma” for the second time in about 3500 words of text.
Me, muttering the phrase: Melisma again. I have to look it up.
Ron: [gives the definition before I have the word typed into Google, then sings:] “‘Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia.’ The Alleluia is the melisma.”
And that there, ladies and gentlemen, is one reason I married him.
What Revolution Will My Daughter Feed Posted on Dec 20, 2025, 8:12 pm
The generation I worry about, hold my breath about, the Millennials, born from 1981 to 1996. My daughter was born in 1985. Another beloved member of my chosen family was born two years before. In addition to the work they do to provide for themselves and their children, they are concerned with racial justice, economic justice, and justice and opportunity for the neurodivergent. Their children are Gen Alphas, born in 2016 and 2018.
Almost Time Again Posted on Dec 19, 2025, 10:12 pm
Nope. Nope, nope, and again I say, nope! I want the Old Me back.
Soft As the Reins of Memory Posted on Dec 18, 2025, 10:12 pm
Nuts and bolts and the task of sliding from one year into another, and some bad formatting, so I apologize for that.
J69:24 Posted on Dec 17, 2025, 10:12 pm
On this day, a year ago, I knew where the year would take us. I said yes to it. And here we are.
To Love This Mutilated World Posted on Dec 16, 2025, 9:12 pm
Adam Zagajewski was born in 1945 in Poland, roamed the world, taught at a number of universities, and wrote about “the presence of the past in ordinary life.” He died in 2021 in his homeland, and though he wrote in Polish, he is widely translated, and everyone who knows anything about contemporary poetry knows this poem. I wonder how it sounds to a native speaker. (“Native speaker of Polish” would describe my grandmother. She died when I was two. I have no recollection of her.)
RCHMNFF Posted on Dec 15, 2025, 11:12 pm
Of the 20 authors included in [The Best American Short Stories 2025], I actually know 5 of them personally. That’s 25%, quite a chunk of familiarity. I have sat beside them in workshops and classes, nominally peers, but on different planes of talent and achievement. I have sat beside giants. One of them is William Pei Shih. I met him at Bread Loaf . . .
A White Curtain Turning in an Open Window Posted on Dec 14, 2025, 8:12 pm
Gaudete Sunday is all about hope and excitement and forward motion. . . .I didn’t open my windows today so that a white curtain could turn in it. The children yonder have evidently ended their Sunday night romp. Somehow, though, sorrow has gone from me today.
Fifty Words or One Picture Posted on Dec 13, 2025, 11:12 pm
This post gives you both, actually.
Change of Plans Posted on Dec 12, 2025, 10:12 pm
I had a panic attack yesterday. I explain it here. I'm going to be all right. Because I have a pl.
The Dazzling Sky-Blue Sheep Revisited Posted on Dec 11, 2025, 10:12 pm
Every Holidailies I post a few “greatest hits,” usually as a way to skip writing a new one. I don’t want to give you a direct link to the original post because its format is glitchy, so I cleaned it up a little and present it here. And know that tomorrow’s Holidailies will be an update on those completely useless items, each of which I still have.
How Many Notebooks Should You Use? Posted on Dec 10, 2025, 9:12 pm
“Hello Margaret,” [the email] began. The editor in me winces. I think there should be a comma. “Have you ever opened an old notebook and not quite remembered where anything lives? A project scattered across pages. A half-formed idea drifting in the margins. A reminder that made sense when you wrote it, yet now asks you to solve it all over again.”
Have I ever? You see into my soul, Bullet Journal Team (the entity that signs the notes).
In Light of My Mistakes Posted on Dec 9, 2025, 9:12 pm
From my journal this morning:
7:50 am/13° — yikes!! nope — 12° now. The temp dropped between the time I laid my phone on the table and came back to start this day.
30 minutes I’ve been sitting here, my hands wrapped around the Wernersville mug with the drawing of the Holy Spirit on it. First Cup is almost gone. The flavor is flat, and it is nearly stone cold. I just want to go back to bed.
At the Gate Posted on Dec 8, 2025, 9:12 pm
There’s a tendency among Holidailies participants to make every piece holiday-centric ...I was tired last night after my outing to see The Nutcracker and fell into that habit, writing something of a review and trying to tie it to the Second Sunday in Advent. Most of my blog work is first-draft-and-a-half stuff. Last night’s was frankly first draft (what a veteran journaller from the early days called the “Spit, Glance, Upload” method). I’m not even sure I took much of a glance.
Character Shoes Posted on Dec 7, 2025, 10:12 pm
Today I attended the final performance (of three) of the Pennsylvania Regional Ballet’s 2025 production of The Nutcracker. It was, as predicted, splendid. My friend appeared as a party guest early in the production, on stage at the same time as her daughter, Soraya, who in that scene portrayed one of the children attending the party. She was, in a word, amazing . . .
Movable Feast Posted on Dec 6, 2025, 10:12 pm
Tomorrow I will be attending a performance of The Nutcracker by the Pennsylvania Regional Ballet, a lavish event with guest artists, sparkling sets, in a theater I know and like. The best part — the three performances will include in the corps de ballet a young friend of mine, whose dance development I have followed since she was born. (She's nine.)
What the World Needs Now Posted on Dec 5, 2025, 9:12 pm
The piece offered here popped up in my Facebook memories for this day. I repeat it now because I was in danger today of forgetting what the True Meaning of the season is, what I intended the True Meaning to be for me this year.
Read it. Do it. It’s what the world needs now.
Today We Are Possible Posted on Dec 4, 2025, 9:12 pm
Two poems by Lucille Clifton, honoring our basic human longing and a certain raccoon.
what the Living Do Posted on Dec 3, 2025, 9:12 pm
I’m subscribed to an Advent poetry program put out by Anam Cara Ministries, . . . a place dedicated to the practice of soul friendship, coming alongside one another in order to facilitate healing, wholeness, holiness, and spiritual formation. . . The theme appealed to me for its emphasis on healing and preparation for the hard hard work ahead of us to lift our country out of the slough of despond our leadership has plunged us into.
A Soft White Damn Posted on Dec 2, 2025, 8:12 pm
My driveway is clear now. . . . Tomorrow I go back to tying up the loose ends of my obligations as an estate administrator, navigating some mobility challenges that make moving through the day problematic, observing and striving to rise above the hellscape that is our current national nightmare (that should give you a clue as to which end of the political spectrum I inhabit), reading Holidailies, and enjoying this life so full of possibilities, so full of the means to achieve them.
And the Dreams Come Posted on Dec 1, 2025, 9:12 pm
I've been silent, here, there, and everywhere. As I write this it is nearly 9:00 in the evening in central Pennsylvania. We’re expecting a significant accumulation of snow beginning before dawn tomorrow. I chose the lines from Archibald MacLeish not necessarily because this night is dangerous, but because the dreams will come. The wind will change tonight and I will lie down to dream about where life will lead me next.
Month's Mind Posted on Dec 2, 2024, 2:12 pm
The whole idea of Holidailies is community celebration and fun, and this seems quite somber for that. But it affords me the opportunity to try to get back to where I once belonged, as a writer, a friend, a “minder” of this one wild and precious world we share.
SAD Posted on Dec 5, 2023, 8:12 pm
In case you can’t read the words on the image, it says: This is your reminder to stop stressing to “finish the year off strong.†You can finish it off grateful, relaxed, slowly, peacefully. The idea that we always need to “be doing†and “achieving†only creates cycles of anxiety. Rushing will not solve your problems. Rest will.
Make a List, Check It Twice Posted on Dec 4, 2023, 8:12 pm
Ever since we were married (forty years now), Ron has made a game of using “creative†spelling for internal (family) communications. When he emails our daughter, whose field hockey number was 11, he addresses her as “Leben.†Our check register contains so many variations on the place where he often gets gas (“Hickenlooper,†“Flickenflager,â€) that one time when I needed to know the actual name, I couldn’t remember it. (It’s Hugendubler.)
Hello To Your Name Posted on Dec 3, 2023, 1:12 am
I'm starting a new Advent prayer series sponsored by the app Hallow that uses the work of C. S. Lewis. It's presented by Liam Neeson. I took the title of the piece from a memory of how my daughter said "hallowed" when she was about three. That gave me a chance to give her a shoutout and maybe drive traffic to her site, which is all about cookies right now.
Jingle All the Way Posted on Dec 1, 2023, 9:12 pm
Here are some things I am grateful for as Holidailies/Advent/the rest of my life begins:
My pesky tire pressure light is staying off, even in this cold weather.
I have every resource I need to achieve the Six Goals of a Quality Life.
My mobility is improving. I haven’t used my cane in a week.
Not One Iota Posted on Dec 5, 2022, 8:12 pm
It's the feast of Saint Nicholas of Myra. For fun this morning, I put this picture up on my Facebook news feed. It sent some to Google, and elicited a wink and a nod from others whose classical religious education is similar to mine. Where do you fall on that spectrum?
Yes! No! Posted on Dec 1, 2022, 8:12 pm
This is my first post to Holidailies 2022. I move into this latest iteration of it with hope and joy, and a little trepidation about my ability to follow through on my intentions. Come with me, pay attention with me, for “to pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.â€
It's Four in the Morning, the End of December Posted on Dec 24, 2021, 5:12 am
I can do no more this morning than repeat verbatim my mostly annual repost of the essay I wrote some twenty years ago for my church newsletter. And I can do no better this morning than say to everyone who reads this, thank you, thank you for reading, for being part of my life, or not part of it for reasons that you have chosen. May we have strength, and resolve, and love, to step into 2022 with joy, however cautious.
Sort, Stack, Sacrifice Posted on Dec 6, 2021, 10:12 pm
I made a list of [decluttering] tasks that only I could perform (and that would be necessary before seeking paid professional services). I labeled them “Sort, Stack, Sacrifice,†and created an order of eight areas of concern (including “#7 Lynn’s room: someday†and “#8 Dining room: hopeless.â€)
Speak It Once Again Posted on Dec 5, 2021, 8:12 pm
Speak your love. Speak it once again.
Unexpected Posted on Dec 4, 2021, 10:12 pm
On the fifteenth anniversary of an unexpected friendship.
Sometimes I Wonder Posted on Dec 3, 2021, 11:12 pm
I found myself in two prickly Facebook discussions yesterday, one with someone I truly care about, whom I have actually known since about 1988, and the other with someone who comes up on my news feed because we are “Facebook Friends,†with a significant number of mutual friends, and although I can identify the circles in which we move together, I do not recall that I have ever met her, or who friended whom.
Regret Posted on Dec 2, 2021, 9:12 pm
A meditation on some lines by poet Lawrence Raab:
Every day there’s something old
to feel sorry about—
what I should have done and didn’t,
or what I did, and kept on doing.
*****
We want to forget
until we start to forget.
We want the past to change,
and we want it back.
Still Jingling Posted on Dec 1, 2021, 10:12 pm
"But then the brain fog came back, worsening over the summer and then into the fall. I took an online class to further my novel that I couldn’t keep up with because I kept misinterpreting the weekly assignments. One evening, Ron asked where the colander was, and I said, “It’s in the . . . the . . . the box for laundering the plates.†The dishwasher, a word I could not retrieve, though I was looking at the appliance at that very moment."
Same As It Ever Was Posted on Dec 2, 2020, 8:12 pm
I’m here for Holidailies. The great joy of this is that it’s always been an online activity, a virtual community, an Internet phenomenon. Something normal, something familiar, something done the way we’ve always done it.
The Advent Kitchen Posted on Dec 2, 2019, 8:12 pm
This kitchen, this beloved vista, is where my Advent and Christmas will take place. I did my habitual C&C yesterday and this morning, and then spent the hours I would have been at school taking up the work I abandoned in September. I wrote 500 words of new fiction, about a girl who is forced, kicking and screaming, to church one otherwise quiet Wednesday evening in the summer of 1964.
When I Woke Up This Morning Posted on Dec 1, 2019, 8:12 pm
So here I am again, without much explanation for the long absence. As The Escribitionist Formerly Known as Shmuel says, what the heck! Let's do this!
It's Comin' On Christmas Posted on Dec 24, 2018, 8:12 pm
I have been absent from this space since my brave resolve to mount another holly jolly Holidailies. For a lot of reasons, that didn’t happen. I spent Advent pondering life questions and searching for hope.
Object Lessons Posted on Dec 1, 2018, 9:12 pm
The idea came to me this morning — a theme for my Holidailies posts: Advent in Twenty-Two Objects. I signed up for this annual blog fest as soon as registration opened, aware that I’ve been absent from the blogging community for months, that I probably don’t have much of a readership left, that the platforms and the techniques I’ve always relied on to maintain my presence have changed dramatically and I have much to learn. As I have changed as a writer and a reader. But as everyone’s first piece
Bring the Light. Be the Light. Posted on Dec 13, 2017, 9:12 pm
Hello again! Since my cheery post on the first day of Holidailies, I’ve been jingling, but not writing. I’ve been x-rayed, scanned, ultrasounded, EKG’d, and had a cardiac catheterization. No hidden anomalies in the structure of my heart have been revealed. I am now waiting for a date for my surgery to be determined.
Jingle All the Way Posted on Dec 2, 2017, 9:12 pm
I spent today getting evaluated, scanned, tested, and counseled about my options regarding my severe aortic valve stenosis. Decision: I will be getting a new aortic valve made of bovine tissue (call me Lady Beefheart).
Living Out Loud Posted on Jan 1, 2017, 10:01 pm
Thank you for one more year of Holidailies, and for accomodating me as a shadow member.
Joey, Wait Till You See This! Posted on Dec 24, 2016, 11:12 am
The annual reposting of my essay about the True Meaning Of Christmas as revealed by the 1953 Christmas episode of Dragnet.
The Beginning of All Things Posted on Dec 14, 2016, 9:12 pm
My grandson, Joseph Angelo April, pictured below, turns six months old today. Thank you for all the joy, all the hope, all the possibilities you have brought to our lives. I love you.
Keeping Track Posted on Dec 12, 2016, 9:12 pm
A mediatation on keeping a journal.
The Trees Were Balding Posted on Dec 5, 2016, 9:12 pm
[I] was drawn to the word “quotidian” in the title of Caille Millner’s story. “Don’t put in so much quotidian detail,” said one of my classmates at Bread Loaf last year. Elizabeth Berg’s work has been described as dealing in quotidian details, an observation that has been meant as a compliment and as a criticism by different reviewers. I hated Safe at Home, the last Berg title I read. But I think my eye for quotidian detail is one of my strengths as a fiction writer.
This Is My Life Posted on Dec 4, 2016, 2:12 pm
In which I make a writing exercise out of a passage that captured my attention in an audiobook version.
Bottom Drawers Posted on Dec 3, 2016, 12:12 am
There was a lot of weird shit in bottom drawers.
— Smith Henderson, b. 1954, from “Treasure State,” in Best American Short Stories 2016
Begin with a Change Posted on Dec 1, 2016, 9:12 am
. . . Blue sky lolling/ beyond the window/
frame — eyes open./Just a way of looking./
Begin with a change.
— Marci Rae Johnson, American poet
Happy Holidailies, in medias res, where everything happens.
The Ninth Annual Dragnet 1953 Commemoration Posted on Dec 24, 2015, 8:12 am
One More Time with Paco, his wagon, a statute, a down-and-outer, a priest, and two detectives.
And Again I Say, Rejoice! Posted on Dec 13, 2015, 8:12 pm
Lynn DeAngelis April as she looked on this day in 1990, and this morning.
God Light Posted on Dec 8, 2015, 8:12 pm
No mystical message -- just a phot, and alittle poetry
The Journey Begins Posted on Dec 5, 2015, 12:12 pm
I have fallen into the habit of regarding this process as something “we†are doing: “our†appointments, “our†oncologist, “our†prescription regimen. I have to remind myself, and sometimes others, that I am not the patient, Ron is. I am, in this endeavor, the companion, the keeper of the schedule, the traffic manager. Though this requires a lot of my attention, I am not the one who is being pushed, prodded, shot through with poison and bombarded by beams of light designed to kill. . .
What Lasts? Posted on Dec 2, 2015, 11:12 pm
I spent some time today wondering what objects in my life now will still be here in 150 years. I have a cedar chest that dates from the early days of my grandparents’ marriage in 1901. It is in need of repair. I have the Story and Clark console piano my parents bought for me in 1948 (I was one year old). It needs to be tuned and has a G two octaves below middle C that sticks. Of things I actually made, I have a dishtowel upon which I embroidered a stamped design in about 1956.
Hail and Blessed Posted on Dec 1, 2015, 12:12 am
What do I want this Advent season? Mild weather, through the middle of January, so that travel to and from Ron’s daily therapy sessions will not be made difficult or impossible, and reconciliation with a number of people with whom I have experienced either an outright estrangement or a distance born of complacency and neglect. As it happens, two of those people called me today. - See more at: http://www.silkentent.com/Trees/?p=5722#sthash.mcmeoUIB.dpuf