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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Cheryl-Anne Millsap

This individual is no longer an employee with The Spokesman-Review.

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Journey was one not walked alone

The chilly wind swept across the beach, gathering sharp grains of sand and scouring everything in its path. In self-defense, to hide from the stinging onslaught, I pulled up the hood of my windbreaker and pushed my hands deep into my pockets. I had been walking for some time but I wasn’t ready to give up and head in. I still had some thinking to do.
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Storytelling has brought friends, memories

In the photograph, I am in bed. It is early morning and I have just been surprised with breakfast on a tray. My hair is tangled, my face still looks sleepy. A child – the bearer of the tray – sits beside me.
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A free day at home sounds dreamy

I’m a little homesick. I shouldn’t be. I haven’t been anywhere for months. Other than a weekend or two out of town last winter, I’ve been right here. I go to sleep in my own bed and wake up to make breakfast, feed the pets, back out of the garage and head to work. The next day, I do it all over again.

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Nighttime encounter was quite enlightening

Walking the dogs down the sidewalk in the dark, I didn’t see him at first. The man standing at the edge of the park was almost invisible, blending so well into the scenery I didn’t notice him until we were close enough to touch.
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Memories of youth bloom with garden

She caught the bus at the bottom of the hill. Clutching her purse, she stepped up, paid her fare and moved stiffly toward the empty seat beside me. We chatted as we watched the city – the schools, the hospitals and the houses – roll by.
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Summer is a time to shine, not sleep

The busy sound of the birds outside, matched by the loud chittering of my daughter’s parakeets upstairs, wakes me. I open my eyes and notice the fingers of light slipping into my room, pulling at the edges of the blinds on the windows. I turn over, look at the clock, and groan. It’s not even 5 a.m. Some mornings I can’t fight it. I bury my face in the pillow. Chances are, I only got into bed a few hours before, seduced by the long day into staying up too late, dawdling, eating a late supper, watering plants on the patio and watching the cats play outside at twilight, walking the dogs as the moon rose. Chances are I wrote too late into the night, or put in a movie when I should have called it a day. I might have spent too much time at the computer answering e-mails or shopping online.
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Depending on the day, I’m a mother and the child

It was the best part of a summer day: When the long, cool twilight winds us down; when light plays with shadows and night moves up, painting the edges of the horizon. When the moon chases the sun across the sky. When stars appear and the air is heavy with the perfume of red roses and green grass and hamburgers cooked on the grill. When cats pounce on imaginary prey and dogs bark, passing the word that the day is done.
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MAC offers its local version of ‘Antiques Roadshow’

If you watched "The Antiques Roadshow" episodes filmed in Spokane that aired recently and are eagerly awaiting the final installment on Monday, you know that thousands of treasure-hunting hopefuls lined up to hear what the experts had to say about their garage-sale finds, dumpster-diving treasures or family heirlooms. The city set a record for ticket requests, but when the show pulled out of town, there were many disappointed people who didn't get a shot at getting good news.
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‘Road’ starts here

The sunny Saturday last August when the Antiques Roadshow pulled into town was just the beginning of the big show. Thousands of hopefuls lined up and waited for hours to have their treasures appraised. Most were hoping for, if not their shot at 15 minutes of Public Television fame, a little good news.

More Stories By Cheryl-Anne Millsap