It’s not a serious collection. Not like my seashells, which are spread out all over the house, collecting dust in the corners of my attic, and stuffed into plastic bags in junk drawers next to thumb tacks, screwdrivers, calculators, and old keys. I don’t think of myself as a person with a collector’s personality. I […]
The secret to writing a book? I think it’s this: Take good notes and write often enough that it starts to accumulate. ~ Colleen, from The Jim and Dan Stories As a writer, the most important discipline I’ve learned is to take notes when the dictation of writing begins. I drop everything, resort to writing […]
The only physical thing I have left from my childhood, other than photographs, is a pink ponytail diary with the lock broken off. Everything else was left in my closet and burned to the ground with the rest of our house when it was taken by the town through eminent domain. I was ten years […]
I’m working this weekend, providing respite foster care for a man with developmental disabilities, and so I wasn’t planning to do my regular Sunday Scribblings. But then, while stealing some time on the computer as my friend was listening to his weather radio, I found myself reading a blog post that gave me goose bumps. […]
Rarely do they give yes or no answers. The answers are more like sun or moon. Post Note: Sometimes I go to the oracle for big picture feedback. Other decisions, like whether or not to play Sunday Scribblings this weekend, are easier to make. Read more entries created from the prompt “decisions” HERE.
Hold on to your hat and Click HERE for my video contribution to the Sunday Scribblings subject of HAIR starring me and my sister Sherry.
By the time the rhododendrons bloom pink along the Parkway, by the time the orange daylilies line the dirt road to town; it feels more like midsummer than summer’s first day. The fireflies are already here. The tomatoes are not far from red. I’m already in flip flops and my sundress with palm trees floating […]
Pink-haired street poet last lion on the block to be picked to prove that his rhyme is as big as his roar that his appetite for words is not to be feared as he shouts from his corner, “People, your war is more uncivilized than the jungle!” The following was written from the Sunday Scribblings […]
The following was written from the Sunday Scribblings prompt “spicy.” What do you do on the hottest day of the year? You could go to your local health food store and stock up on hot cayenne pepper because you gave your supply to your son for his construction site first aid kit. You know that […]
The following was written for a Sunday Scribbling prompt of “simple.” At the end of the day it’s the simple pleasures I remember; peeling and eating a juicy sweet orange, watching yellow finches at the birdfeeder, walking to the mailbox with our dog Jasmine, making a joke that my husband laughs at, a hug, a […]
The following was written via a prompt from Sunday Scribblings. I woke up this morning trying to remember my childhood closet. What was the door to it like? Did it have the same clear glass doorknob that the door to my bedroom had? If I could see the doorknob, remember the feel of the cut […]
The following was written for the Sunday Scribblings prompt, ocean. The back burner on my stove makes a faint whine that reminds me of a foghorn. Its deep and distant drone is like a lullaby I remember from my childhood. “The ships are all safe and the children are warm and loved,” it seems to […]
