It’s a Wild Life

It’s a Wild Life

Yesterday, we were blessed with missing the baseball-size hailstones that fell in parts of Arkansas. We had a thunderstorm, it blew over, then last night, a re-run. This time, I don’t think there was hail anywhere. So, my trusty camera and I (and Nemo, of course) in between storms, strolled through the back yard. We […]

Puddles and Ponderings

When I was a child, Dad had a pond below the house by the barn. I used to drop a rock in that pond and watch the circles spread. Small circles at first, but spreading wider and wider. Life experiences are like that rock. They disturb the small surface of the pond and spread, sometimes […]

Retreat to the Front

Retreat to the Front

When life gets to be a bit much, I retreat to the front porch, my grandparents’ porch. It isn’t far–just a thought, a smile away. The porch is cool and shady, the rocking chair is comfortable. I see past the rock steps at the foot of the yard. I see across the road to Pappy’s […]

Frustrations and the Herb Garden

Frustrations and the Herb Garden

We’ve had so much rain lately, that I hadn’t been able to stick the last of my little herbs into the ground. I didn’t want to dash out between lightning flashes and plant them in the mud. But, finally, a sunny day. I pulled up the grass and weeds that had dared to poke up […]

When the Storm Becomes Vicious

When the Storm Becomes Vicious

This time it was Dayton, Ohio, who received the fury of a turbulent storm. As I read about this, I thought how quickly and without warning people’s lives change; often, that change is forever. In a few moments time, a violent, twisting wind, or rising flood waters devastate lives and rearrange the future. Arkansas and […]

Cornered With Nowhere to Run

Cornered With Nowhere to Run

  An excerpt from the soon-to-be-released Moonstruck and Murderous. Ned has gotten herself cornered. I took a deep breath. I was in a tight place with little room to move. Pushing against the inglenook’s brick wall to give myself leverage, I stood up. The brick under my hand moved. What? Was the mortar so aged […]

%d bloggers like this: