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…breathe deeply and often…

  • My Greatest Gift

    Are you sure you’re right?You can’t be having twinsGreatest Christmas gift

    Read more

  • Boon to the living

    Photo by Douglas John Imbrogno “I’ve survived one hundred percent of the days that were just God-awful. I am happy to be alive on good days. I do wonder about what’s next though. Next. What’s coming? I’ve got a lot coming on my plate. I have many choices to make, much to be careful of,…

    Read more

  • Dirty Snow

    “Mom, where are the boots you got me for Christmas?” asked Charlie. He tore the living room upside down looking for them. Couch cushions went flying, followed by blankets, and newspapers, he made an unholy mess.  “Stop it! Stop throwing stuff around and straighten this room up right now,” Alice was livid. “You know better…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • Snow Wonderland

    Hazel stepped out on the stoop and stepped right back in the house. Her eyes were huge. “Is this what I think it is?” she screamed. It was still dark outside, but the white of seven inches of snow lay bright and unmistakable over everything outside. She could hear the snowflakes pile higher and deeper,…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • The Fishing Village

    Image generated with AI. I’ve never been to a fishing village in Scotland. I don’t care about cities and tourism. The small town misty cold draws me. I want to walk out on a rocky shore to hear the waves crash and redden my cheeks with cold as long as I can stand the grey…

    Read more

  • Story Published!

    Thank you, Nolcha Fox and Chewers and Masticadores! Beatrice Entombed Millard watched the undertakers close the drawer that held Beatrice’s casket, and waited until everyone left the cemetery. A dusty brown cloud followed a parade of black limousines crawling their way up the side of a mountain to the main road. The last thing he…

    Read more

  • Predictable Rant

    It’s time to get more aggressive about the life that I want. I’ve already decided what life I don’t want. I decided years ago that I wanted out of teaching. Retirement is within my reach. I called the retirement board and found that I was eligible for retirement six years ago, but it was financially…

    Read more

  • The dusty journals

    Image generated with AI. Junebug looked at the stack of dusty handwritten journals in the corner. Like hell she wanted them. That’s all she needed, a stack of hundred year old books piled up beside the toolbox in the laundry room. Maybe they’d be better next to the washer, between the shelf where the charger…

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  • The Code

    I began drafting the next “Code” last night. Of all the Christmas traditions floating around, my favorite is the Christmas code. My boys tolerate it, everyone else finds it mildly entertaining, and it brings a huge grin to my face every Christmas celebration. I don’t put name tags on packages, I have a secret code… Read more

  • Red Wagon

    Life seems incomplete without a red wagon of some sort in my life. Now that my gardening wagon has been stolen, trash and all, from my back porch, there’s a whole in it. There’s a hole in the fence, too. It made me so mad to have to put the fence back together I thought… Read more

  • The Storm

    Hurricane Ian “Make a wish. Cross your fingers and close your eyes. Blow a kiss onto your fingers and into the fire. Open your fingers as you blow. That’s right. Now your wish will come true,” said the storm . “It’s a Fire wish.” Ian, the mighty Hurricane was at category five and powerful. A… Read more

  • Mom’s Lasagna

    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… Read more

  • Fire

    “From what I’ve tasted of desire, I think the Earth will end in fire,” said Robert Frost.  “I learned a long time ago to hide the things you want most, for those will be taken from you first. Desire all you want, just be careful who you let in your heart,” said Alice Without Malice.… Read more

  • Why Write.

    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… Read more

  • My Greatest Gift

    Are you sure you’re right?You can’t be having twinsGreatest Christmas gift

    Read more

  • Boon to the living

    Photo by Douglas John Imbrogno “I’ve survived one hundred percent of the days that were just God-awful. I am happy to be alive on good days. I do wonder about what’s next though. Next. What’s coming? I’ve got a lot coming on my plate. I have many choices to make, much to be careful of,…

    Read more

  • Dirty Snow

    “Mom, where are the boots you got me for Christmas?” asked Charlie. He tore the living room upside down looking for them. Couch cushions went flying, followed by blankets, and newspapers, he made an unholy mess.  “Stop it! Stop throwing stuff around and straighten this room up right now,” Alice was livid. “You know better…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • Snow Wonderland

    Hazel stepped out on the stoop and stepped right back in the house. Her eyes were huge. “Is this what I think it is?” she screamed. It was still dark outside, but the white of seven inches of snow lay bright and unmistakable over everything outside. She could hear the snowflakes pile higher and deeper,…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • The Fishing Village

    Image generated with AI. I’ve never been to a fishing village in Scotland. I don’t care about cities and tourism. The small town misty cold draws me. I want to walk out on a rocky shore to hear the waves crash and redden my cheeks with cold as long as I can stand the grey…

    Read more

  • Story Published!

    Thank you, Nolcha Fox and Chewers and Masticadores! Beatrice Entombed Millard watched the undertakers close the drawer that held Beatrice’s casket, and waited until everyone left the cemetery. A dusty brown cloud followed a parade of black limousines crawling their way up the side of a mountain to the main road. The last thing he…

    Read more

  • Predictable Rant

    It’s time to get more aggressive about the life that I want. I’ve already decided what life I don’t want. I decided years ago that I wanted out of teaching. Retirement is within my reach. I called the retirement board and found that I was eligible for retirement six years ago, but it was financially…

    Read more

  • The dusty journals

    Image generated with AI. Junebug looked at the stack of dusty handwritten journals in the corner. Like hell she wanted them. That’s all she needed, a stack of hundred year old books piled up beside the toolbox in the laundry room. Maybe they’d be better next to the washer, between the shelf where the charger…

    Read more


  • 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…

  • 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,…

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • Luxuries of Life

    Time, health, a calm mind, slow mornings, the ability to travel, a home I love, and close relationships, is there more to life that I could need?  How much time is granted to me? How much time do I need? Is it enough? I think so. I believe it will be enough to show the…