My name is Pamela, and I am a middle-aged woman.
I’m not always middle-aged, and I’m not always a woman.
I never told my family this, but once, long ago and yet still now (on the time spectrum that surrounds us, even though most refuse to see it), I am the princess of an enchanted island. Continue reading
Alyson jumped over the wall. But I knew better.
Carefully, I unlatched the lock at the nearby gate.
“Decidedly easier,” I mumbled to myself. Even though Alyson was lying on the ground moaning, I kept walking. Frankly, my best friend was a bit of an actress, and I’d learned over the years to ignore her drama.
Gathering courage, I set my shoulders back and forged ahead. Continue reading
In honor of my mom’s 94th birthday on February 28, I’m dedicating this post to her,
I am here again, traveling along the same flat road, watching the tall green maples and oaks turn to scrubby, smaller bush and pine. What is it about my primordial need to return to the ocean – the Atlantic Ocean – every year?
As I breathe in the hot humid New Jersey air, a mixture of dirt, gas, grass, asphalt and salt water, I wonder if it’s just a childhood memory that needs to be rewritten and retold yearly. After all, as a child . . .
“Why is he traveling so closely behind you? How fast are you going?” my mother interrupts my slow, careful thoughts. Continue reading
In honor of my mom’s 94th birthday on February 28, I’m dedicating this post to her,
I am here again, traveling along the same flat road, watching the tall green maples and oaks turn to scrubby, smaller bush and pine. What is it about my primordial need to return to the ocean – the Atlantic Ocean – every year?
As I breathe in the hot humid New Jersey air, a mixture of dirt, gas, grass, asphalt and salt water, I wonder if it’s just a childhood memory that needs to be rewritten and retold yearly. After all, as a child . . .
“Why is he traveling so closely behind you? How fast are you going?” my mother interrupts my slow, careful thoughts. Continue reading
A whole new world.
I’m standing in line waiting for a towel, of all things.
At our vacation spot, I’m holding my towel card at the Activity Desk, but four other people are ahead of me, and they all seem to be ready to rent chairs, kayaks, and surf boards. I may have a long wait ahead of me.
But one of the clerks behind the desk motions toward me in excitement. Since I’m four people behind the desk, I’m not sure what he’s pointing out. I smile, raise my finger to my new straw hat, and mouth “Thanks.”
He shakes his head no and points lower. Then he moves his head from side to side while holding his hands over his ears. Whaaa? Continue reading
roughwighting 