My mother passed away in 2006. Sometimes I write letters to her, just to let her know how I’m doing, what’s going on in my life. I figure she already knows, being Wherever it is she is right now, but it makes me feel a little better if I can pretend to have a dialogue with her.
It’s been a long time since my last letter. I had a lot to catch her up on. Some of what came out, I realized, could be posted here– but not all of it. There are some things a girl tells her mom that she wouldn’t want published for the world to read. But the part about the seeds, I figured that was okay.
Dear Momma, Continue reading For the Birds… And Apparently for the Bears, Too →
Something amazing just happened.
But let me back up. No, a little further, a little further…. Too far. This way just a bit…aaaaaaand stop! That’s good.
You know how when you’re a kid, you think money grows on trees? Well, you don’t, really. I don’t think I’ve ever met one kid who actually thought that, but they do think that money just is. It’s always there, and it’s unlimited, and why are you so worried? It’s just a pony. Let’s get two! Continue reading A Whole New World →
We live in a neighborhood with lots of pets, complete with a neighborhood Lemon Face, who doesn’t want the dogs to poop in her yard, because “it’s gross.” It doesn’t matter whether we pick up after them or not. I guess she’s worried we’ll get her yard dirty? (I haven’t yet pointed out to her that the squirrels, raccoons, and stray cats don’t come with rope-attached pooper-scoopers.)
But I digress. Lots of pets– lots of dogs, in particular. I know, because Meetu likes to greet (read: snarl and lunge) at each and every one of them. Keep in mind, he’s ten pounds at his heaviest. Most of our neighbors have dogs that range from 30-100 pounds, so he’s kind of a Scrappy Doo. If Meetu could speak English, I’m fairly certain his line would be, “Let me at ’em! I can take ’em!” Gazellik likes to get in on the action, too;
Continue reading The Naming of The Bubbleses →
Writers write. That’s what they say. And the paid writers write everyday.
And I haven’t been. I have really good reasons, you know– REALLY good reasons. But at the end of the day, I need to make a decision: do I want to be a secretary with Really Good Reasons or do I want to be a paid writer?
I had been writing at lunch time. I’d eat for half an hour and then write for a half an hour. It always amazed me how all I had to do was Continue reading A Promise is a Promise, No Matter How Small →