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Today is a day that I have lots of unexpected things on my mind. I’m not feeling particularly creative as much as documentative about it. There’s flour all over the kitchen because there’s no point in cleaning it up yet. I’ve yet to make the pastry for the pasties. I expected to have that done
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“Room for one more?” Shelly said with that sideways grin of hers and Wisconsin accent. The daughter of my mom’s estranged sister was at my door. I’d recognize her anywhere. She had the same stringy hair and bangs she did when she was nine, and her mom left her with my parents for the summer,
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This year I am grateful for so many things, but what swims to the top of mind are my live-in son, Ian and his girlfriend, Norris, and of course my writing group. Ian and Katelyn have gone out of their way to be nice to me. I appreciate being included in their plans and lives.
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“I don’t understand. Why do you think I don’t see you? You’re sitting right in front of me. You look lovely tonight,” Max told Emily in a hushed tone. He didn’t want to make a scene. He was afraid the waiter or the couple in the booth next to them might hear. “It’s not about
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Image generated with AI “Eudaimonia” human flourishing a contented state of being happy and healthy and prosperous… “Twelve folks are coming for Thanksgiving,” said Margaret. “Is that a blessing or a curse?” asked Floralee. They’d been best friends since their college days at Bethel Hill. Margaret limped around the kitchen, holding on to the countertop
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Floralee drifted high above the valley in her balloon of daffodil seeds. She stayed aloft with her hopes and wishes of all that she’d ever dreamed. Floralee turned over in the bed. She saw the tops of green mountains and wondered what that meant. The wind blew and thousands of white petals of dandelion dust
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Image generated with AI I don’t remember shaving my sister’s legs when she was days old. I heard that story so many times growing up that I can feel my dad’s razor in my tiny hand. He was a barber, and the razor blade was double edged. The razor, thank god, wasn’t a straight one,
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“Salty or sweet?” he asked in an online conversation. “Salty.” I replied without even thinking about it. Potato chips and dip are my absolute favorite snacks, God’s ambrosia. I prefer salt over sweet any day. I even put Chex Mix, my all time home made favorite Christmas snack over ice cream to balance it out.
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Someplace Warm
“I’ve packed all the snacks,” said Celia. “I forgot the wine,” said Doug, “Can we stop at Kroger?” “Is it even open yet? It’s 6:30 in the morning.” Janet was aggravated. “I knew somebody would forget something. I got really great charcuterie boards to go with the wine for tonight and tomorrow to go with Read more
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Escape
“Get out,” her brain screamed inside her head and her arms tingled, and her knees wobbled. She looked for the exit. The clock ticked. There were twenty five people between her and the door. Forty-five minutes between her and the end of the session. The room was silent save for the shuffle of the occasional Read more
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When the Ship Lifts
Artwork by Charles Jupiter Hamilton It took a long time to get here, to this place of the ordinary. What had to be figured out was what was commonplace. What could be tolerated, what she wanted to confront. She learned to pick the battles. Some fell away, some had to be fought. Some she lost, Read more
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Birds and Boxcutters
“I have no idea what you want me to do with all this stuff,” said Lisa. Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked around the four walls. She was knee deep in equipment, boxes, ragged furniture. Where should she begin? Her head itched and it felt like a thousand birds flew out of her Read more
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When Life Gets Weird
All women in their time play all the parts. When time’s struggle hacks away at the core of motherhood, she blooms Slices of her incognito souls fall around her. She’s protected her child with her promises Surefooted he stands on her love and covers his head, With the hat of awareness. The recognition that Her Read more
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Mona
Like most things, Mona ignored the timer, and kept reading her book. She was approaching the climax of a scene, she needed to see the outcome of the turning point, wanted to watch the table turn, she couldn’t put the pages down just yet. Nothing was on fire. She read on. Of course the protagonist Read more
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Today is a day that I have lots of unexpected things on my mind. I’m not feeling particularly creative as much as documentative about it. There’s flour all over the kitchen because there’s no point in cleaning it up yet. I’ve yet to make the pastry for the pasties. I expected to have that done
-
“Room for one more?” Shelly said with that sideways grin of hers and Wisconsin accent. The daughter of my mom’s estranged sister was at my door. I’d recognize her anywhere. She had the same stringy hair and bangs she did when she was nine, and her mom left her with my parents for the summer,
-
This year I am grateful for so many things, but what swims to the top of mind are my live-in son, Ian and his girlfriend, Norris, and of course my writing group. Ian and Katelyn have gone out of their way to be nice to me. I appreciate being included in their plans and lives.
-
“I don’t understand. Why do you think I don’t see you? You’re sitting right in front of me. You look lovely tonight,” Max told Emily in a hushed tone. He didn’t want to make a scene. He was afraid the waiter or the couple in the booth next to them might hear. “It’s not about
-
Image generated with AI “Eudaimonia” human flourishing a contented state of being happy and healthy and prosperous… “Twelve folks are coming for Thanksgiving,” said Margaret. “Is that a blessing or a curse?” asked Floralee. They’d been best friends since their college days at Bethel Hill. Margaret limped around the kitchen, holding on to the countertop
-
Floralee drifted high above the valley in her balloon of daffodil seeds. She stayed aloft with her hopes and wishes of all that she’d ever dreamed. Floralee turned over in the bed. She saw the tops of green mountains and wondered what that meant. The wind blew and thousands of white petals of dandelion dust
-
Image generated with AI I don’t remember shaving my sister’s legs when she was days old. I heard that story so many times growing up that I can feel my dad’s razor in my tiny hand. He was a barber, and the razor blade was double edged. The razor, thank god, wasn’t a straight one,
-
“Salty or sweet?” he asked in an online conversation. “Salty.” I replied without even thinking about it. Potato chips and dip are my absolute favorite snacks, God’s ambrosia. I prefer salt over sweet any day. I even put Chex Mix, my all time home made favorite Christmas snack over ice cream to balance it out.
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Sewing Lesson
Santa brought me a baby doll for Christmas one year that had white curly hair like an old lady. She had a rubber head and blue eyes that would open and close when she sat up and lay down. Her arms and legs were rubber too, attached to a stuffed body. She was about half…
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Purple stuff
Since I started teaching I’ve undergone many changes. I still have a real honest to God chalk board in my classroom instead of the standard white board these days. The way I copy papers has changed significantly over the years. I started with the purple stuff. I would get so frustrated trying to type tests…
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Junebug’s Dinner
“I feel like my head’s in a jar underwater,” said Junebug to no one at all as she burnt the last of the fried chicken. She couldn’t fry chicken any better than she could make biscuits. Her gravy and mashed potatoes were to die for though. The whole stick of butter and heavy cream she…
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Haiku in Winter
The whittling down of a grandiloquent tale to seventeen syllables. Getting the juice from it to its purist form wrings the neck of a piece of writing so tight that all that’s left is the essence of its meaning, a haiku. Five seven five. The dear sweet poems of eternity. Pictures in pure form Whittled…

