I’m a writer. And an author. A reluctantly published author. I’m disappointed with myself in that way. If I wasn’t reluctant to publish, I’d do it more. If I wasn’t reluctant to publish, I’d shout to the world that I love to write stores. If I wasn’t reluctant to publish, I’d share my stories far and wide. Continue reading
My days are shorter.
I don’t mean my life ahead is shorter, although of course it is. I try not to think about that, but now that you mention it, yikes, yes. Do I have 10 more years, possibly 15 more years before I’m totally decrepit? Continue reading
a vantage point of distance
Seated at my desk.
Clouds and sunshine peek
Like flirts on a summer’s day
Through the window blind.
Birds sweep with a laugh
Through the orange red branches
I spread my wings too.
So many times in my youth I felt awkward, in so many ways. But I’ll start with the first indication that for my entire life I’d be …. awkward. Continue reading
I seize the opportunity to use my new earbuds, a gift to myself last December that I still hadn’t figured out how to use. Not sure why I had felt such a need to buy them except for the fact that I watched my two grandchildren – 11 and 12 – walk around their house smiling as they listened to a book (or music?) with small white objects stuck in their ears. Continue reading