Leisure | Elizabeth Anne Rose

February 20th, 2015 at 04:04pm by ElizabethRose

To be an environmentalist or not to be

My friend, Vera, tells me she is not an environmentalist. Not because she debunks climate change or hates polar bears.

Vera would qualify for “environmentalist” if I were the one doing the judging. Vera has been recycling for the past 35 years, long before anyone else was doing it. She is currently building a tiny house on wheels (THOW) using her own designs and labor. Sixty-percent of the interior of her tiny house is repurposed materials, including old drawers that will become stairs. She plans to use her “Silver Bullet” to teach others how to downsize into a tiny “houseprint.”

December 15th, 2014 at 09:12pm by ElizabethRose

Essay: And the Diagnosis is….

“Let ME finish making the bed and YOU advise Genevieve if she is having a heart attack,” I bargain with my husband, Joe.

Joe and I have always divided the common labors of a long marriage based on talents, skills and interests. It has been a fair distribution. I feed the cats and he changes the litter. When it comes to medical questions we double-team it.

September 14th, 2014 at 01:16pm by ElizabethRose

Essay: Is This My Cat?

A bloody mess lay near the median strip. A small body sliced in half by the passage of a car wheel, still wearing the tire imprint like a new t-shirt, the head and the rear of the animal still intact.

I am paying attention because I am looking for my cat. She has been missing for two days. Can this be Dolly?

September 14th, 2014 at 01:11pm by ElizabethRose

Essay: Leafy, Green and Married

It was leafy green and lay in my husband’s plate looking like a graduate of vegetable boot camp. He presented it to me on his twisted metal cafeteria fork. “What is this?”

I was surprised. Spinach in a salad carried the mystique of a slice of American cheese at the deli counter or a common nail in the hardware bin.

A week later, just before Passover, his botanical confusion returned. He asked, “By the way, what is the leafy green plant soaking in a glass of water in the refrigerator?”

September 14th, 2014 at 01:06pm by ElizabethRose

Flash Fiction: First Born

Johnny had to be first. That’s just the way it was. I knew that from the beginning and really it didn’t make no difference. He was the first born so it made sense.

When Mama wanted something done she asked him first. He was biggest and turned oldest first, no matter how we all tried to catch up.