Does writing tend to call out the real person hiding inside some of us? Are you a closet writer? Who are you, really? The birthday of Robert Louis Stevenson was just a few days ago. His family wanted him to be a lighthouse keeper. He had other ideas and pursued those dreams. I’m very glad […]

Muddled Thoughts in Passing
I haven’t finished my first cup of Folgers yet so my thoughts are understandably muddled, sort of here and there and nowhere in particular. Continuing the weather story from yesterday–the temperature kept dropping and dropping. Wind blew, sailing colored leaves like air-born boats before it. Cold! No rain, though. If some had planned to head […]

Upside-Down Sort of Day
This day is starting upside-down, temperature-wise. But, that’s all right. Yesterday, the wind blew like a storm all day. Warm temperatures, cloudless sky with gales. I’m glad I took a picture of my beautiful golden maple because this morning a lot of those leaves are on the ground and the wind is still gusting. The temperature is […]

Mean, Dirty, Old Low-Down Blues
This is supposed to be the jolliest time of the year, isn’t it? Thanksgiving is nearly here and right on its heels comes Christmas. Ho-ho-ho! Bright lights, fluffy snow, family and friends gathering in, gifts, food, laughter and conversation. It’s the happiest time of the year; only, sometimes it’s not. Psychologists say that holidays are the […]

Happy Birthday to a Literary Icon
He definitely had a mind of his own and didn’t even try to fit into the mold of what was expected. He knew what he wanted and he pursued it, whether it was his dream of writing or the woman he would marry. Today is the birthday of Robert Louis Stevenson. He lived only forty-four […]

My Conversation with Nemo
I groaned as I plopped into my office chair this morning. When would the bursitis in my leg go away? It hurts, it hinders, it is a nuisance, and it stifles inspiration and creativity. Looking down, I saw Nemo. He had come in from the family room, sat on the floor beside me, and looked up, […]

