I know you’re not really in the mood to listen to your mother, but I can’t help it. I have something to say. And, since I don’t want to chase you around, texting and calling, nagging and whining into your ear, I decided to put…
The dog scratched at the door, asking to go outside. For days the city had been wrapped in a front of arctic air that swept down from the north and wouldn’t leave us. It was so cold that the doorknob burned against the palm of…
Driving through town, even though it wasn’t very late, the city was quiet. It was Christmas Eve and most people were already wherever they were going to be for the night. There was no traffic, the buildings downtown were dark. No one was out walking…
Dear Ms. Millsap, Several years ago you wrote an article in the Spokesman Review about your daughter and a picture of a turkey. I thought it was very funny and I gave copies to some of my friends. I even sent one to my 82…
(photo of George Ohr courtesy Ohr-O'Keefe Museum) Once, over a cup of coffee, late into the evening when confidences are easily shared, a friend leaned close to me and said, “I am meant for something special. I know I am. Since I was a little…
(photo by Cheryl-Anne Millsap) Most Monday nights we gather together We open the door of the small building that houses the studio of an artist friend and walk into the warmth of a room filled with the all the tools and spirit of creativity. There…
(Photo by Cheryl-Anne Millsap) This winter, if ominous predictions can be trusted, is going to be a big one. That’s what the forecasters say. That’s what was printed in the newspaper. That’s what I keep hearing on the radio. They say this winter the wind…
There. I voted. I did my part. I did the research, marked the little bubbles and dropped the ballot in the box. I listened to what you had to say and I told you what I want for the future. Now, go away and leave…
October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. In 2006 I wrote the following column to honor my grandmother who was born in October and died in the same month 70 years later. This is her story. I'd like to share it again this year:October 30, 2006…
I don’t need a calendar to tell me what’s happening, and it doesn't matter where I am. I just have to open my eyes to see the change of seasons. The light has, for weeks now, had a golden cast as it slopes down over…
If I could take you to Yellowstone National Park, I would take you there on a sweet September morning. So early in the morning, the sky above the horizon was still a deep velvet blue and stars hadn’t yet faded and the moon still hung…
I rested the side of my head on the cool glass of the small oval of the airplane window and gazed down at the ground below the wing. We were flying east, moving beyond the Cascades and toward the Rockies, covering hundreds of miles an…
From the first time I stepped into her kitchen, Char Zyskowski became a special friend. I was a freelancer, relatively new to the area. I’d gotten a tip about a chef who held cooking classes in her home on the South Hill. I called, we…
I got a call this morning from an old friend, a woman who was there with me when our children were small. Those children are all grown up now (the "baby" is 15) but each year, at the beginning of September, we can't help but…
What struck me most, on a quick trip to Vancouver, British Columbia, were the voices I heard as I explored the town. One nationality after another passed me on the street, laughing, talking in a dozen languages. On my last morning, I sat across the…
Each of us builds a future in our own way. Some are the caretakers of an established family legacy. Others roll up their sleeves, lay new brick and create a fresh start. Today, I experienced both. A bicycle built by two This morning, I rode…
When I was a little girl I loved to read fairy tales. I spent hours with my nose buried in beautifully illustrated books and my favorites were the classic stories of strong-willed maidens and castles far, far away. To overcome whatever obstacle bound them, each…
Food. Books. Somewhere, at some time, the two became intertwined in my mind. It just didn’t seem right to do one without the other. I ate when I read and I read when I ate. I remember practicing sounding-out words on the back of the…
It wasn’t just that the voice was familiar to me, but the tone of the voice on the phone was also instantly and unpleasantly recognizable. I would know it anywhere. It was, for those of you who’ve raised a family and know what I’m talking…
The thing about the park is that there are all sorts of corners where you can hide away. Secluded benches in the space under the boughs of a tall fir tree. Leafy rooms with walls made of hedgerows and stacked stone. A vine-covered gazebo tucked…
The tall, cathedral-like arches of the Golden Gate Bridge loomed ahead as I followed the line of cars in front of me. The day was overcast and traffic was shrouded in fog, draped in the mist blowing in from the bay. I was a rolling…
I was instantly awake when I opened my eyes to a clear, bright, Montana morning. There was no swimming through murky dreams to surface into consciousness, stretching and yawning and blinking. One minute I was asleep, the next, I wasn’t. Through the open window I…
It’s been a long time since I was invited to a backyard campout. My children are old enough to get in the car and go to a campground with friends when they feel like it. Or, to take a climb into the wilderness and do…
I picked up my youngest daughter from camp yesterday. This year, she wasn't a camper. She was a counselor-in-training. She spent almost two weeks away, learning to think and act like a counselor. It's a big transition with a lot of responsibility. Growing up is…
Driving across the country, watching the miles fly past, the view from my car window was constantly changing. Lush southern forests gave way to open farmland. The scarred landscape of the badlands flowed into the vast prairies. Miles of grassland rose to meet the peaks…
Cheryl-Anne Millsap's Home Planet column appears each week in the Wednesday "Pinch" supplement. Cheryl-Anne is a regular contributor to Spokane Public Radio and her essays can be heard on Public Radio stations across the country.
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