Site Owner: Margaret DeAngelis
Site Name: Markings: Days of Her Life
Site URL:
Articles Posted: 21

Posted Entries:

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 didnt 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 Ive been absent from the blogging community for months, that I probably dont have much of a readership left, that the platforms and the techniques Ive 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 everyones 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, Ive been jingling, but not writing. Ive been x-rayed, scanned, ultrasounded, EKGd, 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 Millners story. Dont put in so much quotidian detail, said one of my classmates at Bread Loaf last year. Elizabeth Bergs 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:




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