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The best recipes come from old cookbooks. Those suckers have been tested and perfected. They have the right ingredients, lots of love, and you would have to hold your mouth just right to mess them up. Mom’s Lasagna recipe traveled to England and back with me. It is faithful. I remember when I spilled the
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I write in general because I always have. I have always kept journals, written stories, essays, poems, and papers. I write because my thoughts, feelings, ideas, language play has to come out somewhere. Writing is problem solving. It’s fun. It’s frustrating. Writing is my best friend. It’s something I have to do. Now, I’m writing
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Pasty? It’s pronounced PAST- E, not paste with an E like the strippers wear, but PAST+EEE, pasty. Someone told me there were pumpkin pasties in the feast scene in Harry Potter. I know it’s a sin, but I’m not a Potter Head, so I don’t remember. Yet, I’m sure a pumpkin pasty is a delightful
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People transmit emotions, alternating and direct current, twins’ feelings bloom at the same, for the same reasons, from different sources. I don’t know what kind of magic is in a twin, but I know there’s more power in it than science can explain. Ask other twin moms. I’ve watched this “thing” happen throughout their twenty-some
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Treasure of the Day Tableware is fun. Individual salt and pepper shakers for everybody at the table, pairs of cut crystal tall martini glasses, and a genuine Disney mug come in handy for the soirees in my mind as well as daily use. That says something about me, I’m sure. I schooled the boys on
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My brain flipped on the teacher switch last week. Summer perished. I mourn summer in my heart with chains of paperclips and blocks of staples. Cold fluorescent lights took the place of the sunlight filtered through the windows in the family room. I’m heartbroken. I’m back to monitor halls of chaos, angst, anger, and hormones.
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Benji told me every thunderstorm in the middle of winter was an omen. So when the lightning knocked the power out on New Year’s Eve, and he missed the cake stand, the fruitcake cookies went flying from here to kingdom come, my knees went weak just a little. Charlie Mae was exacting revenge at my
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Local Pizza I’m lucky. I live in small town West Virginia and a half a mile from a glorious, honest to God Italian pizza parlor, Larobi’s Pizza. The only Italian place this side of Ona that’s not a chain. Larobi’s takes cash and they don’t deliver. Their dining room is almost as good as their
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What?
What? What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me ask you first? What difference does that make? Are you going to answer me? Why wouldn’t I? What are you hiding? I’m not hiding anything? Aren’t you? How would you know? Why wouldn’t I know? Do you ever pay attention to me? Read more
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What I Know Is True
What do I know that’s true? I know that my family and money are important whether I like it or not. Even my sister and my brother, whom I rant and rave and write about all the time, even when I don’t like them, are all important to me. No one knows us like our Read more
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Cabbage Stuff
I got out the onions, cabbage, and Worcestershire sauce. I meant business. My day sucked and my socks were still wet. I’d made the decision in the car while the windshield wipers kept time to “I’ll Fly Away,” sung by Kanye West. The rapping, singing nut job of the music industry I loved to hate. Read more
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Panty hose: To wear or not to wear?
It’s been said that panty hose are making a comeback. For me, they’d never left. I felt undressed without panty hose on. I need that filter to hide the varicose veins, bruises, and stray hairs that cover my legs no matter how close I thought I shaved. They tend to offer a gentle shaping to Read more
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My Mother’s Ghost
When I open my mouth, I’m shocked that I hear my mother. I hear her voice, her words, but more than that, her attitude. I hear her cadence in my speech and the philosophy I bucked as a child and an adult. She drove me crazy with her notions of what I should and should Read more
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My Desperate Zoo
Mothers run a desperate zoo. That’s why we plant flowers. I have a flat and a half of red, fuschia, and orange impatiens on my back porch waiting to dot the ground with their hues. My mom planted flowers, her mom planted flowers, and that’s how she died, weeding her Touch-Me-Nots. Grounds beautification 101, we Read more
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The best recipes come from old cookbooks. Those suckers have been tested and perfected. They have the right ingredients, lots of love, and you would have to hold your mouth just right to mess them up. Mom’s Lasagna recipe traveled to England and back with me. It is faithful. I remember when I spilled the
-
I write in general because I always have. I have always kept journals, written stories, essays, poems, and papers. I write because my thoughts, feelings, ideas, language play has to come out somewhere. Writing is problem solving. It’s fun. It’s frustrating. Writing is my best friend. It’s something I have to do. Now, I’m writing
-
Pasty? It’s pronounced PAST- E, not paste with an E like the strippers wear, but PAST+EEE, pasty. Someone told me there were pumpkin pasties in the feast scene in Harry Potter. I know it’s a sin, but I’m not a Potter Head, so I don’t remember. Yet, I’m sure a pumpkin pasty is a delightful
-
People transmit emotions, alternating and direct current, twins’ feelings bloom at the same, for the same reasons, from different sources. I don’t know what kind of magic is in a twin, but I know there’s more power in it than science can explain. Ask other twin moms. I’ve watched this “thing” happen throughout their twenty-some
-
Treasure of the Day Tableware is fun. Individual salt and pepper shakers for everybody at the table, pairs of cut crystal tall martini glasses, and a genuine Disney mug come in handy for the soirees in my mind as well as daily use. That says something about me, I’m sure. I schooled the boys on
-
My brain flipped on the teacher switch last week. Summer perished. I mourn summer in my heart with chains of paperclips and blocks of staples. Cold fluorescent lights took the place of the sunlight filtered through the windows in the family room. I’m heartbroken. I’m back to monitor halls of chaos, angst, anger, and hormones.
-
Benji told me every thunderstorm in the middle of winter was an omen. So when the lightning knocked the power out on New Year’s Eve, and he missed the cake stand, the fruitcake cookies went flying from here to kingdom come, my knees went weak just a little. Charlie Mae was exacting revenge at my
-
Local Pizza I’m lucky. I live in small town West Virginia and a half a mile from a glorious, honest to God Italian pizza parlor, Larobi’s Pizza. The only Italian place this side of Ona that’s not a chain. Larobi’s takes cash and they don’t deliver. Their dining room is almost as good as their
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Trick or Treat Ghost
“Stop, I lost my shoe,” Bonnie said. She was crying. It was pitch dark and we were in the middle of a flower bed in somebody’s front yard. There were four of us. Bonnie was the tiniest five year old I knew. She looked about three and was just as annoying. None of us wanted…
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The Bad Seed
The Bad Seed I still can’t watch The Bad Seed without getting the heebie jeebies. The first time I saw it, I was about ten years old, and it was a Saturday after the cartoons had all gone off. Mom was busy doing mom things, the brothers and sisters were gone, maybe everyone was. But…
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Norris Lives
I finished it. I finished Norris Lives, a 25K word sequel to Norris Tales, the Adventures of an Awful House Cat. I sent it off to a publisher. Norris draws first blood. He is a jewel thief. He steals the remote as well as little kid’s lunch money. He cheats at cards and loves a…
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Velvet Heart
Janet stood in front of the mirror and admired herself. The twenty-pound weight loss looked good in the deep red velvet dress she wore. It hugged her waist, plunged at the neck, and flounced from a complete circle to the floor. It was the dress of her dreams, and she was stunning. She twirled in…
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On Writing; Inspired by Erma Bombeck
“I’ve taken my typewriter to the hospital with me for kidney infections. I have taken it on camping trips, and the sand has gotten in the keys. It is just like the most fierce habit you can imagine. It is there, and it stares at you like a conscience.” ~ Erma Bombeck I must write.…
Devonne Brown 