Summer Zen

June 21, 2024June 20, 2024 / roughwighting / 68 Comments

My Summer Zen story began as a prompt to my creative writing students: “Write a story that includes the line: ‘I wish I could stay here forever.’ Each writer sunk into the memory of a ‘perfect’ day. But as I wrote my story, I realized that we all could find a perfect moment in every day.

Oh, and the header photo happened this past week – eight little turkey babies (poults) on our deck railing. I think Turkey Mama was having a perfect moment.

As lavender dusk approaches, walk me into the house, put a little music on– Rosemary Clooney, Enya, Vivaldi, the Beatles Rubber Soul– and let the fresh early-summer air meander through the open window. Yes, I’m beginning to get there. Continue reading →

Honey, I’m Charmed!

February 9, 2024February 9, 2024 / roughwighting / 95 Comments

I stumble backwards at the sight of Roger.

How on Earth can Roger – the Roger I’ve known and bantered with and talked to (in my head) for 46 years – be here? In flesh and blood and a smile that could light up a lonely midnight? (See part1 https://roughwighting.net/2024/01/26/honey-im-home/#more-10186) Continue reading →

Silly Suds

December 15, 2023December 14, 2023 / roughwighting / 105 Comments

The day is dark, as in pitch black, and it’s only 5 p.m. I’ve had a full day – yoga and meditation at 6 a.m., 500 words for my short story by 8 a.m., dance class by 9, grocery shopping by 10:30. I baked cookies for the neighbor and prepared a casserole for dinner.

Now, I peer longingly at the claw-footed bathtub in my master bathroom and think – “yes, I deserve this.” Continue reading →

In the Upstairs Hallway

December 1, 2023November 30, 2023 / roughwighting / 115 Comments

I moved in with a man I’d known for 11 months with my two children, ages 2 and 4.

He was a confirmed bachelor.

I was a newly divorced, single mom vowing to never live with a man again. Continue reading →

READ-Y

June 30, 2023June 29, 2023 / roughwighting / 89 Comments

When Julie opened the cover of the ancient book in the attic, the first page glowed opal, and letters began to float off the page, circling her like fairy dust. (Part I, The Ancient Book)

Julie should have been afraid, closed the book, and raced down the narrow ladder, quickly closing that attic ceiling door.

But instead her body relaxed as dozens of those letters surrounded her and buzzed like happy bees. The sweet soft buzzzzzz turned to whisperings from Spirits long gone and still here. Continue reading →