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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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I Can’t Sleep
I Can’t Sleep written by: Devonne Brown @athesaurus1 I think. I thought. I have thoughts and prayers about this. I’m not brave. I can’t sleep over … I Can’t Sleep Read more
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The Invitation
Mania is an expensive disease of unspeakable joy. I missed a day of school and missed professional development trauma training with personal trauma self-care/ My world rocked. I took a sick day, ended up taking two without a fever. Sickness doesn’t always come with high temperatures, sometimes it looks like notions and I took one Read more
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In the Time of the Sonnets…progress report:
On the basic plot diagram, I’m midway on the rising action, maybe not in order. I’m happy with the lot I’ve written and marked completed. Spoiler alert, I wrote the climax already. I couldn’t help myself, it had to be done before I could write another word or make a cup of coffee. I’m juggling Read more
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My Wedding Dress
I bought the perfect shoes to wear to my niece’s wedding. They were black leather with an inch and a half kitten heel. Just above the heel was a gold plate that made me glisten when I walked. But I didn’t have a dress, so I made one. I haven’t done any real sewing, not Read more
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In the Time of the Sonnets
I’ve been writing a novel with the working title, “In the Time of the Sonnets.” Without giving anything away at all, it’s got Shakespeare, giants, messengers, and kings in it. Of course there will be a witch here or there, but that’s beside the point. I’m heavy into the rising action and I’m already surprised Read more
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Van Gogh Epiphany
When you start reading to your kids, you do it because you want them to learn to read. Then this happens. My first born read a passage from a book about Vincent Van Gogh having a “cafe moment,” when Van Gogh’s experience, memory, talent, time, and place all converged into one glorious period of creativity 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
-
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 