Nina KeenamSubmitted Article

Mirrors can reflect big changes in time
By Nina Keenam One morning I got up earlier than usual, showered, ate breakfast, got dressed, hurriedly dabbed a little make up on my face, and drove uptown to take care of an errand. On my way home, I decided to stop in at a supermarket that was having a close-out sale. My shopping expedition must have taken at least an hour and a half, while I moved up and…
Photo set-up harder than expected
By Nina Keenam Years ago when I was a reporter at a weekly newspaper, I found myself with an assignment to set up a photograph of a cute little child with a dozen or so baby ducks. At first, it did not sound too complicated to me. A nice couple who worked at the newspaper had some ducklings. When I approached them about using them, I was pleased that they…
Granddaughter’s hugs today same as yesteryear 
By Nina Keenam I often reflect on how fleeting time is as I grow older. When someone refers to the 1950s and 1960s as the “old days,” it shocks me somewhat. The prolific author William Dean expressed it well: “You’ll find as you grow older that you weren’t born such a very great while ago after all.” To which I add, even if others disagree. As my granddaughter flung her…
Visitor likes bridges, some scare me
By Nina Keenam The drive was long from Louisiana, over six hours, with only a couple of short breaks. No wonder the eight-year-old sitting on my couch after the journey while two adults carried on a lively conversation began to look bored. He was tired of the television program he was watching. He loves running, jumping and turning flips outside, but he was in an unfamiliar place so his grandmother…
A walk to remember
By Nina Keenam I found some notes relating to a sandy bayside walk with my husband tucked among yellowing newspaper clippings. I have done that through the years –scratched out just enough words and phrases to help me recapture times I want to remember. That day, we strolled on dry, white sand beside a lake to the wet, gray shore of a bay where the tide was out. A silvery…