Fix foundational defects before adding surface pretties.
One of my ways of coping with so much time alone [during the pandemic] has been to rearrange the furniture several times.
Today it’s 95 degrees, too hot to even weed.
I approach this blog entry about language usage with trepidation because grammar is not my strong suite. I’m fortunate to be surrounded by English majors; all the members of my writing group are English majors except me. My son, daughter, niece, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and ex-husband also hold various degrees in English. Many of them areContinue reading “Language”
This is the first blog entry I’ve attempted since my failed attempt at humor at Easter this year. It’s difficult to write anything meaningful in these stressful times. I’ve written poems this spring, but since my writing group isn’t meeting, they sit in draft stage waiting for an opportunity to be workshopped. Regardless of topic,Continue reading “Dignity for All”
Dear Reader, this blog is a tongue-in-cheek look at Holy Week. PALM SUNDAY Jesus won’t be riding into Jerusalem on a donkey this year, triumphantly or otherwise. Palms will still have their leaves as trees won’t be chopped apart for his fans to lay branches across his path. We might see palm trees as farContinue reading “HOLY WEEK AND SOCIAL DISTANCING”
Listening to the news this month started me thinking about the idea of “firsts.” It’s the first time so many nations around the world have faced a deadly virus like COVID-19 in such a short time period. It appears to spread like the seeds of a dandelion in the wind. Most countries are not preparedContinue reading “IN THE AGE OF FIRSTS”
Sometimes I need quiet to free my brain of daily distractions to put pen to paper or fingers to my keyboard. There’s certainly a lot to distract us as we search for good news amongst the mostly bad news about COVID-19 that is on TV, social media, and in newspapers. The reader will see aContinue reading “Time and Quiet”
Lets stop shooting each other.
My poem, Farm Sale, tells about the day my parents held a farm sale, prior to their move from farm to a house in town in 1982. The poem was published in The Sea Letter Journal The photo is blurry because it’s from 1982, taken on a tiny point-and-shoot camera and because my hands shookContinue reading “Growing Up on a Farm”