Five Years a Writer

When my older sister was just a young girl, she asked the assembled adults this riddle-question:   “When is a door not a door?” The adults knew the answer, When it’s ajar , but my sister didn’t get it quite right.   “When it is a jam pot!”, she offered in reply to her own question, then, I’m sure, giggled madly. Such fun to have outwitted the grownups!   I don’t remember this directly, but I recall with fondness my mother’s retelling of this tale, which inspired me recently to invent the character in the short story below. Poor Clemmy, such a good heart, such a lot of not-quite-right in her life.   *** Getting it right, but not exactly right was one of her specialities.   When asked to contribute a salad to the potluck, she would bring a jello mould with fruit cocktail and tiny marshmallows, not the leafy greens dressed delicately with a homemade vinaigrette that was wanted.   She adopted a cat from the local humane society but it was a sickly thing with on...