Weeks 2 and 3: The Atlanta Gig I was told to guard against any chickens escaping. On my first solo morning, this was foremost on my mind. What would happen if one did escape? Could I lure it back inside or would I have to chase it around the yard…
Week One – The most extraordinary weather =================== & =================== Employing a shop vac is an efficient way to suck up water where it’s not wanted. In the case of the floating Hobbit House, our basement seemed to be attracting water molecules like bees to nectar. It was coming down…
=========================== @ =========================== Well, I never. Never thougt I’d be here. Turning sixty-eight. For some reason it sounds like eons of time past sixty-seven. I traveled through the beginning of this birthday decade with nary a thought to the signifigance of the numbers. There’s no getting around it now with…
++++++++++++++++@++++++++++++++++ Every once in a while, I experience a deep dislocation of the the psyche. I like neatness, tidily-stored possessions, orderly and easily found stuff. But when things get out of hand and I’m plagued by massive disorder and a disturbing disequilibrium, I tend to rally for the cause–that being…
I’ve been living in Asheville for six years this month. The weather in June of 2018 was so starkly different from that of Houston. Once we moved all our stuff into the Hobbit House, we opened the windows. This seemed incongruous with the time of year, but we were celebrating…
Besides being a clever name for an ice cream flavor, the term can mean literally a road with rocks on it or, metaphorically, a difficult endeavor. In my case, my latest caper could encompass all three. If you substitute pie for the ice cream. It all started on a sunny…
Memorial Day has come and gone, which signals to my body and brain that the warmth of the earth is now circling around my little homestead in the mountains. The rain stopped (for awhile anyway) and as the sun shines down, the humidity has decreased and it is so comfortable…
############################# You know the day. For me, it is almost always raining. The kind of rain that drizzles, then pours, then stops, then starts again all day long. The sun is in hiding. On this day, I never even get dressed. I expect no knocks on the door nor do…
Yes, it is NOT Tuesday, but I wanted to share some treasure with you. Below you will find the link to The Official Blog of the Asheville Women Writers Co-operative, aka The Scribble Sisters. Our first story has been posted and is ready for you to enjoy, relate to and…
—————–#####################—————– Writing letters has become unfashionable, passé, archaic. This form of communication has been replaced by a telephone in one’s pocket, often spoken or tersely texted. Via email if one needs to be verbose. How will our biographies ever be written? Imagine the details of Gandhi’s life recorded from such…