Where seeds of thought have room to grow
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Category: Playing with words
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To have courage for whatever comes in life – everything lies in that. St. Teresa of Avila I paid bills yesterday. Watching our balances dwindle away, I realized there's a good chance I'm going to have to give up on my book and my personal history business and my photography – or at least…
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Suldog, one of my favorite bloggers because he's so brutally honest and funny and compassionate, all rolled up in a tough old-fart exterior, tagged me in something called a Re-Blog Challenge. Since I'm scrambling to get back into the 'real world' after my dreamy weekend at the coast, I decided today was a good time…
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With mere minutes to spare (I thought) I hit the send button, catapulting my She Writes submission just under the deadline wire. Turns out I had four hours left – Tom and I both weren't thinking straight on the Pacific vs. East Coast time thing – but that's okay. If I'd known I had the…
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Today is Monday, isn't it? I've already lost track. I neglected so much today – I'm behind on emails, Facebook and reading my favorite blogs, as well as laundry and… well, everything. But it's for a good reason: I spent the day writing… specifically re-writing the beginning pages of my book for the "We Love…
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If you could peek inside my brain, this is what it would look like… I feel as dry as our pond. Seeds of thought sprout in my brain, but there's nary a cloud of creativity in sight to nourish them. They're just withering away. Time. That's what I need a bit more of right now.…
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I walked at dusk, a tangerine glow still lining the horizon, not quite snuffed by the night sky. The wind blew hard, but it was comforting, like a friend's reassuring hug, and its roaring in my ear was a lullaby, soothing. While the puppies hunted for lizards and rough-housed in the sand, I turned inward,…
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A bird, whether it is tied down by a thread or a chain, still cannot fly. St. John of the Cross There are days I feel I'm a bird, hopping around on a branch, aching to take to the sky chasing the delectable dreams I see darting around, just out of my reach… But…
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It's quiet in here… just the hum of an air conditioner and the soft, sporadic click, click, tap of computer keys… the three of us spread out in this spacious computer room each drifting in our own little world. TG is home for the summer, taking a class at the local community college. We have…
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I fidgeted in the swivel chair — the 'good' chair, the teacher's chair — twisting it back and forth by swinging my crossed leg up and down. Mostly unfamiliar faces stared back at me, except one or two I've known since their toddler-hood. But then, the whole high school felt unfamiliar. Odd, considering all the…
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I think I've mentioned this before – I'm a book addict. I have boxes and boxes of books stacked in the boys' rooms downstairs, waiting for the library Tom has promised me (and promised me… and promised me…) (Okay, in his defense, he built this whole house … even finished out my closet while he…
Long Hollow 