The assumption of belonging is usually taken for granted. Within your own family, chances, without reservation, are you are a member. When you walk through the front door of a home belonging to a relative, there’s usually a happy greeting and you’re offered a place to sit and told to make yourself comfortable. Often this …
Is Writing a Lonely Venture?
I read a blog post last week that discussed the isolation associated with the craft of writing. (I can’t remember which blog it was now. If you do, please forward the URL.) The supposition was most writers are introverts at some level. Sitting alone to write page after page isn’t the sort of activity that, …
Character Sketch: The Woman Next Door
I had told you, my readers, I would be doing some character sketches in my quest to improve my writing skills. It was back in November when I had decided on this. Yet, so far, I’ve only wrote one. Disgraceful. Below is #2. § When Lydia Schuhart and her family moved in next door, the …
Where Tolerance Stops
This last Tuesday I wrote a short piece entitled, She Endured. (This one is shorter, isn’t it?) Aside from it being an exercise in writing for me, the point of the scene was to give you a glimpse of what many couples experience on a daily basis. The woman showed fortitude and patience. What if …
Ponderosity and Me
I was a fat kid. This wasn’t something I was afflicted with because how much I ate or what I was eating. My family was on the poor side. I say it that way because we did have a luxury occasionally, which I know some families never have. In fact, there are some who can’t …
Weekly Recap 4/11
I thought I was being more productive this last week. With the weather getting warmer, there are things that need to be done in preparation for the hot days to follow. And I don’t want these tasks to override what I’ve been trying to do for so long. It’s a balancing act that I can’t …
Too Much Noise
This is my second post for today. Unheard of, right? Will wonders ever seize? Now, how many clichés have I used so far? I like clichés. Although I don’t think they should be in anything other that casual conversation or writing. I’ve gotten way off the subject for this post. Sorry. This is in response …
The Private Library
His grandfather’s library was a place of masculine enticement. The oak paneling covered all but the wall where the large bay window was with its padded bench for people who wanted to read by natural light. That wall was dressed with a solid color of faded peach. The carpet, thin with wear in the traffic …
The Drumstick
I’ve been thinking about this post for a while. Yet, because of the conditioning my upbringing has instilled in me, I just couldn’t see myself even writing this, let alone publishing it, until after the first full week of September. Last week I had my sixtieth birthday. I figure that in five more years I …
can't we all get along?
The title of this post is a writing prompt I found at Writing.Com. I was going to write a memoir scene but to tell you the truth, I’m a little burnt out on that line of topics right now. I won’t be using the real names or their associations with me in this post. I …
California Dreaming
It was Mary’s post at 1950 Memories Of Suburban Adventures, Oceanic Inauguration that stirred up the recollections I have about seeing the Pacific Ocean. Back then, being able to go to California was just ‘the coolest’. This was true even when I was eleven. After all, Rickie Nelson had lived there. That’s where the story …
My 6 ½ Year Tussle
Hubby and I moved to Tennessee with the one thought in mind of helping his mom with the last days his dad would be alive. He was in the advance stages of Parkinson’s disease and also had a stroke. My mother-in-law (We’ll call her MIL here – short for mother-in-law.) couldn’t bear the thought of …
