The Grocery List

April 10, 2020April 9, 2020 / roughwighting / 148 Comments

“Chocolate squares (unsweetened), check.
Flour, butter, check.
Sugar, eggs, check.
Heavy cream, check.
Bottle of red, check.”

Samantha sighed as she mentally checked off her grocery list. The essentials only. She didn’t have time for non-essentials, like milk or cereal or pasta. She swiped each container with a Lysol wipe as she unloaded her grocery cart at the store, and then swiped the seven items again when unloading the grocery bag once she reached home.

Safe. Continue reading →

Grandma’s Wish

March 13, 2020March 12, 2020 / roughwighting / 124 Comments

When her birthday cake was placed in front of her and someone said “make a wish, Grandma!” Dolly closed her eyes and thought, okay, here’s the chance to try it.

She rubbed her back right heel on her left toe, crossed her left arthritic index finger over her third finger, took in a deep breath and chanted,

“Now may be the time, time is what we find, find the time that’s right for me. And let me see!”

Continue reading →

The Dawn in March

March 15, 2019March 19, 2019 / roughwighting / 130 Comments

I was born in the March dawn, the sun shining lightly through snowflakes, welcoming the new spirit of an old soul.

I wailed to return from whence I came.

But the others encouraged me to stay. You chose this, they whispered. Continue reading →

The Princess of Endoplactum

March 16, 2018March 15, 2018 / roughwighting / 123 Comments

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 →

Have Your Cake and EAT IT TOO

March 11, 2016March 9, 2016 / roughwighting / 86 Comments

My mom shows her great-grandson how to eat cake.

The subject of aging seems to fascinate my daughter and son and their spouses. Most particularly,

A bd cake, no matter how you slice it.

…my aging. And my guy’s.

I haven’t figured out why. Perhaps it’s because of my upcoming birthday on the Ides of March.

They seem to expect some kind of terror in our response to their teasing, asking if we have “chair rails” on our new stairs – ha ha, and telling us that perhaps my guy is eligible to use the town’s “senior center.”