I happened to come out of work on Gay Street in Knoxville at precisely 4 pm. Crystal blue sky, cool, slight breeze, the blazing emerald green of early spring and the downtown clarion bells were playing an elaborately melodic version…
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My Iceberg
My Iceberg, © J. Appleton, 2012 Hello again. I realize I haven’t posted in awhile, between rewriting the first chapters of the new novel and hosting Maurizio’s mother, brother and niece (more on our adventures in the next post). But…
The lady, unicorn, gorgon and manticore
During the Great Depression, a single woman in her 30’s, the sole heir of a very wealthy landowner in Kentucky inherited a palatial Victorian estate in a small town, surrounded by acres of immaculate gardens and hidden behind a high…
Soldier coming home
The happy news of the end of the Iraq War reminds me of a scene a few summers ago at the Knoxville airport. I was coming to pick up Maurizio, parked in the short term lot and followed a pretty…
Workingman’s neck
Labor Sunday, Sept. 4. Long before I knew the term “red neck,” I was fascinated by my grandfather’s neck. It was reddish, with deep groves in diamonds that grew deeper when he turned his head. He’d lived in the sun,…
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