JANINA M FULLER
Bio
I am a quilter and an actress, a pianist and a lifelong student of nature. I've lived among indigenous people and kissed Jacques Cousteau, flown planes and swum with penguins. The possibilities of life are limited only by our imaginations.
Stories (8)
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Scars
The air is chilly on this side of the hill; you should thank the compound Leader for insisting you wear his Deep Mud coat if you wanted to accompany me up here. You’re writing for the compound newsletter, is that right? So the residents can learn about the newest addition to the compound, meaning me and Gerta? And Hatcher, of course. Having to cut away these scrubby vines with every damn step makes it seem like we’ve been climbing forever. I’m glad the Leader suggested bringing the machete, god, the vines are terrible, and the thorns! But at least they’re not roses. Oh, right, easy for you to laugh … my goodness, you’re out of breath, aren’t you? Time to get a bit more exercise, perhaps? If you want to hear about us you’ll have to keep up with me. C’mon, we’re almost to the top, and I need to explore while I’ve got the chance. I’ve wanted to climb this hill ever since we moved into the compound two weeks ago, but, pardon me, I’ve been a little busy, and Hatcher doesn’t like to babysit. As if he has a choice. Between recovering from the merbintal, looking after the baby, unpacking, and starting a garden while the weather holds, it took me longer than I expected to get the chance to come up here. You’ve never been to the lookout before? Well, let’s see if the view lives up to its reputation…
By JANINA M FULLER4 years ago in Fiction
A Gift of Fragrance
Geoffrey’s head turned before he knew what had caught his attention, not expecting the scent of cinnamon and clove to reach him here, among the first-edition shelves. Maybe someone was carrying a cinnamon latte from the coffee shop? In the heartbeat it took to remember that food and drinks weren’t allowed in this part of the bookstore, he stepped to the end of the shelf to see a navy blue, orchid-topped fascinator in retreat atop a head of chestnut brown curls. The spices stayed behind, however, unraveling a wondrous tapestry of scent as the orchids disappeared. The cardamom registered next, and, what was that? Vanilla? Lavender? Roses? Geoffrey shook his head, as if to rid his mind of the impossible. For most of his 75 years he’d worn his sense of smell like a kind of superpower. On occasions like this, however, present to an entrancingly cohesive mix of aromas he never would’ve thought to combine, it caught him off guard. He told himself that last undertone couldn’t be roses, or perhaps it was a remnant from his visit to the Rose Garden earlier that morning. But here was a hint of cedar, where did that come from? Haunted by the fragrance, he noted as well that the headwear was clearly shaped like a Phalaenopsis, but people should know that Phalaenopsis orchids don’t naturally occur in navy-blue. Shrugging off his irritation with the artifice, he resigned himself to being forever mystified by women’s fashion.
By JANINA M FULLER4 years ago in Humans
The Hat
“Get this, Janice: according to the book Amos gave me for Mother’s Day, a five-gallon bucket with a bunch of holes drilled in it can be used to keep crabs alive during the time from catching them to getting them into your cook pot. I mean, didn’t you always wonder how to keep crabs alive between the boat and the stovetop? A book about catching crabs! For Mother’s Day! I haven’t actually read the book, mind you, I just noticed that little fun fact about the bucket when I was leafing through it. You know, to be polite. And, Janice, he was so excited for me to open it…I mean, when he handed me the package, I knew there was a book inside, you know how you can always tell when it’s a book. But he was all nervous and squirmy, like he was proposing to me or something. Honestly! What on earth would possess him to give me a book like that, I ask you? We live in Denver, for heaven’s sake, not a fresh crab in sight for at least two thousand miles, probably more. I mean, what was he thinking? I guess it’s just one of those throwback moments to his childhood in Mississippi. Crabs! Mother Mary, I’ve never been so surprised in my life, not even when he did propose to me! But going crabbing with his granddad was one of his favorite things to do as a kid, to get him out of the house for a couple of days here and there, and away from that awful daddy of his.”
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Families
Retirement
Retirement was a mixed blessing, as all major life transitions tend to be. She’d been studying fungi and teaching biology for so many years, her whole life had been organized around the familiar routine of lesson plans, faculty meetings, departmental crises, grant-writing, research, grading, and of course the mentoring of students that provided her fuel for everything else. The travel bug had kept her explorations of the world expansive, challenged to fit in all the new discoveries she dreamed of into a few short vacation weeks each summer. She’d been smart to stay physically active since grade school, when track and field meets surprised her with the pull to run and jump faster and farther than anyone else. Her daily runs were the single thing that justified her allowance for all things chocolate, although the heavily disciplined guardrails went up against overindulgence during times of stress.
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Humans
The Blanket
A singularly happy dream that had graced her ten-minute nap drifted upward to mingle with the rafter cobwebs as Allie sat up, shaking hay from her hair. The muffled screams coming from the house on the other side of the barn were even louder than they’d been when she went to sleep in her effort to escape the noise. Her right hand reached up to comb absentmindedly through scruffy bangs – “mousey,” Mama called them – while the fingers of her left hand opened and shut around the edges of the beloved blanket with its fading pattern of purple lambs and crescent moons.
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Fiction
Claim What's Yours
The view from the top of Half Dome was just as spectacular as I knew it would be, and just as familiar. Kind of like coming home, really, to see the valley nearly 9,000 feet below, with its ancient glacial cut extending northeastward up Tenaya Canyon and El Capitan at the opposite end of the vista to the west; rolling mountaintops hiding fields and forests on the horizon opposite my rocky perch. At 9:00 in the morning the sun warmed my back while I gazed into the distance, remembering Jossman Burrell and letting him know I’d finally made it. Hoisting my backpack I felt the weight of the box containing his ashes. Two years Grampa Joss had been waiting for me to bring him back to this place that held his heart and soul. Given his deep affinity for the Dome, it seemed strange to me that he didn’t want his ashes to be released here, among the fissures and splitting granitic flakes on this beloved and distinctively rounded peak that dominated Yosemite’s skyline. He’d asked instead that his sooty remains be given to the grasses and soil of Tuolomne Meadows. But that was tomorrow’s task; for now he was just along for the ride and one last chance to top the Dome.
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Families
Christmas
It was Tom’s and my turn to host Christmas. Rather than our choosing which among our widely scattered family members we should visit, they came to us, here in Louisiana. My daughter, son, daughter-in-law, and even my sister came, all the way from London via Indianapolis, where she picked up our 90-year-old mother and escorted her to Louisiana on mom’s first plane ride in many decades. It was a sweet and fulfilling time.
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Families
The Needles
Edith’s knitting needles clattered to the floor as her head slumped Raggedy-Ann style toward her right shoulder, hands dangling over the arms of her chair, eyelids fluttering. After securing Edith’s tongue and teeth, LiddieAnn pulled the kettle from the fire and shouted toward the darkened hallway. “Yella! Mama’s spellin’! Get out here!”
By JANINA M FULLER5 years ago in Humans
