Fresh Ink & Hot Coffee — Tomorrow, It Begins

January 23, 2026January 12, 2026 / jrmilson / Leave a comment

A quiet word before Saturday morning arrives . . . .

The press is warming, the quill has been freshly dipped, and in this neck of the woods the air smells faintly of biscuits and printer’s ink.

By lamplight, Little Red Bear is checking the final lines, pages stacked neat and waiting. Rusty and Percy are chasing down the last good headline, and somewhere nearby a kettle is whistling — the patient kind that knows its moment is almost here.

The very first issue of The Hearth & Holler Gazette is ready to roll — full of neighbourly news, small-town happenings, a little laughter, and a bit of country comfort to carry with you.

Tomorrow is the day.
The Gazette arrives.
Are you ready?

— Jim (and Red!

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Why Small Stories Last

January 20, 2026January 10, 2026 / jrmilson / 1 Comment

Why the Little Things Stay With Us

Small stories. Small moments. Small actions that reverberate through the years, often in ways we never fully realise at the time.

My own writing life — if one can call it that — began in the fourth grade, with a teacher named Mrs. Drew. I do not recall her first name, if I ever knew it at all. Back then, adults were simply Mr., Mrs., or Miss, and that seemed sufficient. (You need not bother doing the arithmetic — I am seventy-six.)

One afternoon near the end of the school day, Mrs. Drew propped a landscape painting against the blackboard for all of us to see. Our assignment was simple enough — write a short story inspired by the scene in the painting. It showed a family in a wagon, travelling along a dirt road that wound through woods and farmland, headed somewhere beyond the frame.

We began writing in class and were sent home to finish. A few days later, Mrs. Drew returned our papers, handing them back one by one. All except mine. Mine, she kept.

When she finally explained why, it was because she intended to read it aloud to the class. And when I eventually received it back, there at the top of the page were words I have never forgotten:

“A++ Jim — You will be a writer someday.”

I was painfully shy at the time. I did not know what to do with such encouragement. But I carried it with me — quietly, steadily — for the rest of my life.

There are moments like that — small at the time, almost unnoticed — that stay with us long after louder things have passed. They do not announce themselves. They do not demand attention. And yet, years later, they are often the ones we remember most clearly.

Perhaps it is because they arrive without agenda. Or because they involve people rather than events. Or because they ask nothing of us except that we notice.

Continue reading →

“Warning” Poem by Jenny Joseph — “When I Grow Old, I Shall Wear Purple”

April 19, 2017January 9, 2026 / jrmilson / 31 Comments

With April being ‘National Poetry Month’ and a focus on spreading awareness and appreciation of poetry, it seems appropriate to share a few favorites along the way.

The “Warning” poem by English poet Jenny Joseph (born May 7, 1932 in Birmingham) is one such poem, because I hear her speaking to each of us, male or female, in an ode to nonconformity, one of my personal favorite rants and topics. In a humorous, tongue-in-cheek and fun way, Jenny Joseph conveys a serious message for all, to never take ourselves too seriously or lose the twinkle in our eyes.

Age, after all, truly is only a number. Contrary to earlier admonitions in my youth to the opposite — “Act your shoe size, not your age!” It’s a lot more fun.

“Warning” was penned in 1961 at the age of twenty-nine. Although having published many works in her lifetime and having received numerous awards, Jenny Joseph is best known for this defining poem. The second line became the inspiration for the founding of the Red Hat Society, the self-described playgroup for women where there is “Fun and Friendship After Fifty.”

“Warning: When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple” and Jenny Joseph’s other works are available on Amazon.

“Warning” by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple,
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves,
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired,
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells,
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain,
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens,
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat,
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go,
Or only bread and pickle for a week,
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry,
And pay our rent and not swear in the street,
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised,
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Interestingly, Jenny Joseph is apparently not a fan of the color purple in her own wardrobe (“It doesn’t suit me”), even though the two have perhaps become inseparably linked thru her poem. But for her to now wear purple against her own personal tastes would be to conform to popular expectations, and that’s really what the poem is all about, isn’t it?

Thanks for stopping by and visiting with us. Always remember, one very small act of kindness can change someone’s whole day or life around. Be the reason someone smiles today! — Jim (and Red!)

If you enjoyed this post, check out — “I Will Greet This Day With Love In My Heart”

“Life is short, and it is up to you to make it sweet.” – Sarah Louise Delany

“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” – Mark Twain

“The Adventures of Little Red Bear” Short Stories on Amazon.

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“You don’t stop laughing because you grow old. You grow old because you stop laughing.” — Michael Pritchard

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“Aging is not lost youth, but a new stage of opportunity and strength.” — Betty Friedan

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