Lighthouse

 

There's a lighthouse on the north side of Roosevelt Island here in NYC in the middle of the massive, dangerous East River. It was built in 1872 and designed by James Renwick, Jr.  

 

There are legends about the lighthouse that say a patient from a nearby Lunatic Asylum built a stone fort on the site fearing a British invasion. The fort was later demolished to make way for the lighthouse. To commemorate the story of the patient’s involvement there is an inscription near the lighthouse that reads: “All ye who do pass by may pray for his soul when he dies”.  

 

In the long distant past when my longtime partner died and he was unceremoniously cremated, I had his remains for a while and during that time his soul was restless. Things would go missing; tragedy struck my life, and nothing was right. I knew it was time for him to rest. While alive he liked to fish and enjoyed rivers and oceans.  

 

As a final farewell I wrote prayers and took my daughters to the lighthouse. The three of us had our own ceremony and released his ashes in the East River. From that moment on peace returned, and his restless soul was in repose. All unusual activities stopped and never returned. 

 

All we have left are memories and a lighthouse on the north side of Roosevelt Island in NYC in the middle of the massive, dangerous East River.

Georgia

THE GUILTY PLEASURES OF A LITERARY CORNUCOPIA OF CATALOGS AND RELATED LITERARY COLLECTIBLES

 

Book Row existed from the 1890s to the 1960s on fourth Avenue between Union Square and Astor Place.

By the 1960s skyrocketing rents had whittled away at the inhabitants of book Row until a few financially strapped survivors were able to limp away from the exorbitant rents to set up their stores elsewhere, while others dissolved into literary obscurity. I would have liked to visit those stores that did not make the cut. One of the survivors was the Strand Bookstore which landed at Broadway and E. 12th St. in the East village. Today it is the only survivor from Book Row. One of the survival techniques used by the Strand was a long series of wheeled book wagons which are parked perpendicular to the perimeter of the store surrounding it and supplying the casual passerby, of meager means, with an extremely wide diversity of reading materials, and all at very low prices.

There are many old books, some practically falling apart, which no self-respecting bookworm would choose to inhabit. There are old periodicals and catalogues of every description and subject. I once purchased an auction catalog published by Sotheby’s, at the Strand, for $.50, an extreme bargain compared to the cost of participating in the actual auction while still owning the objects of your fancy in a sense, although not in possession of the physical objects.

The spending of a few intended minutes can turn into hours as your arms become heavy with the accumulation of literary treasures that you cannot pass up, all the while moving around your fellow shoppers in a choreographed dance through the narrow aisles, while trying not to drop your selections. Eventually, you must enter the store to pay for your newly acquired treasures, wherein the passive- aggressive strategy of the Strand pays off, as you are overwhelmed by the size of the literary world that you have been unwittingly lured into like the webs of Shelob in the Lord of the Rings , laid out for Frodo and Company under Mordor, or the Sirens of Anthemoessa Island in the Odyssey luring the sailors to their ruin. In this case, it is a positive experience and you will be enriched by this experience far beyond the few dollars spent on your purchases.

Jim-August 1, 2026

Bun Bun the Bunny

 In a meadow filled with blooming daisies lived a little rabbit named Bun Bun. He had a kind heart and greeted every creature with a smile—a bee, a field mouse, and even a grumpy old owl. 

If someone needed help, Bun Bun never hesitated. He carried acorns for the squirrels, shared clover with hungry rabbits, gently freed butterflies from spider webs, rebuilt broken birds' nests, helped mice carry seeds, and gathered twigs for the grumpy old owl. 

The forest became a warmer, happier place because his kindness bloomed in every heart. 

Bun Bun knew that kindness grows when it is shared. 

Moral: Kindness has a way of spreading from one heart to another.

Georgia

Look at the Book

 

After thinking about it for a while, I must confess I find great pleasure in collecting and reading through recipe books. What I realize is that I enjoy buying them and looking through all the recipes, but I don’t or very rarely create a dish from one of them and serve it.

Books containing every single type of chocolate recipe makes me go, “oooh,” and “aaah,” despite the fact that as much as I love chocolate I never even tried one delicious recipe.

I also like cookbooks that have two hundred pages of only chicken recipes. I will sit and read through recipe after recipe, yet I will still go back and cook my own tried and true chicken dishes.

I even have a cookbook where each recipe uses all kinds of exotic spices. I broke down and prepared one of these very spicey recipes which contained a large amount of curry powder. I invited my mother and aunt over for dinner so they could try my creation.

I don’t think either one of them ever had curry in their lives. It was obvious by the amount of beer they drank to wash it down. The next time they came over for dinner, they brought take-out!

Ellen G.

Favorite Reads

 

I know it's cheating but when I find a book that may be too long to read, I find it on audio. My favorites are psychology, religion, crime and horror. 

I listened to Speak It into Reality by Napoleon Hill, Buddha by Karen Armstrong, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and my favorite horror book Frankenstein by Mary Shelly.  

I find the audio books from my local library, and I find hearing the words adds a lot of life to the story.  

I have always loved books in any form.  

 Georgia

Two from Georgia P.

 Assignment: July 4, 2026

 Through a Child's Eyes

 

I know kitty understands me when I talk to him. His nose wiggles and his eyes shine. I pet him gently because I love him. Kitty is the best thing in the whole world.

Assignment July 11, 2026

 Dog Days of Summer

 

I am not a summer person. On those dog days of summer, you'll find me happily camped out in front of my 12,000 BTU air conditioner. Wake me up when it's October.

Memories of Imagination

 

IMMERSED IN A SEA OF COLORFUL RIBBONS AND BOWS AND CRUMPLED GIFT PAPER TORN APART CARELESSLY, I STARED IN AWE AT MY BRAND-NEW ROBOT COMMANDO, WHO COULD THROW ORANGE CANNON BALLS STORED IN HIS ARMS AND FIRE MISSILES FROM THE TOP OF HIS HEAD! MY ARMY OF LEAD AMERICAN SOLDIERS WERE NO MATCH FOR ROBOT COMMANDO! WHAT TOY COULD EXEMPLIFY PEACE ON EARTH AND GOODWILL TOWARDS MEN ANY BETTER THAN A MONSTER ROBOT WHO COULD DECIMATE ENTIRE ARMIES WITH A FEW CANNON BALLS AND MISSILES! I WAS IN ECSTASY WHILE MY FINGERS WERE STICKY FROM THE CANDY CANE I HAD BEEN CONSUMING.

THE ELVES MUST HAVE WORKED AROUND THE CLOCK TO PRODUCE ALL THE TOYS NECESSARY FOR THIS BONANZA, WHILE SANTA DELIVERED THEM IN THIS HIS 13TH LABOR OF HERCULES, TO THE HOMES OF LITTLE BOYS AND GIRLS ALL OVER THE WORLD, AND IN ONE NIGHT!

THIS WAS THE BEST CHRISTMAS MORNING EVER….

SOMEONE WAS CALLING MY NAME….

“MR. LAPLACE!”

“MR. LAPLACE!”

“COME DOWN FROM YOUR CLOUD, MR. LAPLACE!”

OH NO, IT WAS NOT CHRISTMAS MORNING. I WAS IN THIRD-GRADE HOMEROOM WITH SISTER M*** X*****!

“MR. LAPLACE, I AM SORRY TO INFORM YOU THAT WHILE YOU MAY FIND THE TIMES TABLES BORING, THERE WILL COME A TIME IN YOUR LIFE WHEN IT WILL BE NECESSARY TO KNOW THEM. PLEASE PAY ATTENTION AND SEE ME AFTER CLASS TO PICK UP A NOTE FOR YOUR PARENTS!”

OH NO, NOT ANOTHER NOTE HOME AND ANOTHER BLOT ON MY PERMANENT RECORD, NEVER TO BE EXPUNGED AND DRAGGED BEHIND ME FOR THE REST OF MY MORTAL LIFE, LIKE THE CHAINS AND LOCKBOXES OF JACOB MARLEY, ALWAYS THERE TO BE FEARED AND EXPLAINED AWAY ON JOB INTERVIEWS AND WHEN MEETING MY FUTURE IN-LAWS SOMEDAY!

THE NOTE I RECEIVED

Dear Mr. and Mrs. LaPlace,

Good afternoon, I am sorry to bring you more grave news, but your son James is persisting in drifting away with a lack of mental discipline on imaginary flights of fancy. Please try to control your son as we all know that nothing good can ever come from displays of imagination.

Sincerely yours,

Sister M*** X*****

MY SENTENCE ALSO INCLUDED A WEEK OF CLAPPING ERASERS.

JIM-JULY 26’