Friday, March 4, 2011


She left a clue,
after murdering you.

There, there you see
on that glass.


Now we shall all know,
through her DNA,
the true name of the villianess


This another poem inspired by Magpie:
check out the other great tales there.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

A Prayer

We hear you have found, and accepted,
the warmth, and the joy
we have created within these walls.

You are welcomed, dear friends.

Here's to  life anew.

May you enjoy being wrapped,
and loved,
and nurtured into a new wholeness.

Same as we have found.

This is our gratitude.

Welcome to you.

Monday, February 21, 2011


The earth beneath her feet was
shaken to its core.
It tattered, and it tore.

Rent into a thousand pieces,
all askew.

Never, not ever could she be 
whole again, 
or seamless, 
or free.

 Not now. Not ever.
without thee.

This was another Magpie inspired poem. Check out the great writers at:

Thanks Willow.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Just Down the Street

Just down the street there is a house
with one window
that looks like an eye that never sleeps.

I walk by it everyday
on my way home from school.

I imagine the people
who live there
have one eye too.

But not like a Cyclops.

I imagine them like pirates
with eye patches, and crooked smiles
with yellowed teeth.

I walk on the other side of the street
afraid of who might see
my imagination
hiding behind the tree.

This is for Magpie #52, thanks for another flight of fancy, Willow. Please check out this awesome writer's blog,

Friday, January 28, 2011

Conversations reported

I was cruising my Spacebook page the other day, and found a posting by my daughter regarding a conversation she had with my grandson:

ACTUAL conversation at the dinner table: 
son, "mom, every girl gets pregnant at some point." 
mom, "no they don't!" 
son, "why not?" 
mom, "because not everyone wants to be a mom." 
son, "what do they do then, donate them to the orphanage?" 
ROFLMFAO....cannot continue with conversation!

I love, love, love these snippets of life.....

Monday, January 17, 2011

Fake Spring Days

For the past couple of days, we have broken the all time high heat record for this time of year. The last time Reno saw 67 degrees on this date was in 1920 something. All this sunshine and warm temperatures tend to wake me from my winter hibernation.

Yesterday, I heard the birds singing their celebratory songs at dawn. I love to hear them warbling as they herald the coming of Spring. It makes me want to clean the nest.

And so I did. All day long. Sun up to sun down. I rubbed, scrubbed, washed, dried, vacuumed, mopped, bleached and oiled all the wood surfaces in the household, including the kitchen cabinets. By nightfall I was understandably exhausted. I felt only slightly guilty to have missed my morning yoga class. I figured all the  manual labor I was doing made up for the skipped class. My workout wasn't as meditative, but there is something to be said about getting some good ole elbow grease going in place of the brain cogs.

Today, I awoke early, got dressed, put on my little blue conductor's hat, poured my hot chai tea in a to-go mug, and promptly got my arse to the grocery store. I love shopping before 8 a.m. Only the serious come out at that time of day, especially on a federal holiday. The young mothers with their feisty youngsters are still at home eating their sugary cereals. Good for me.

I was in and out of the store in record time. I had a list, and by golly I stuck to it (this time). I couldn't wait to get outta there and back home to start cooking. I love to cook up a storm so I can coast through the rest of week. Phyllie put in her order for a crock-pot roast with veggies.  I got the roast all layered nicely with the veggies in the crock, and I was smoking out the neighborhood with the smell of BBQ'd Italian sweet sausages and turkey burgers by 9:30 a.m.

By 10 a.m. I had eaten a grilled sausage, and half a turkey burger with Doritos. Yum, breakfast of champions.

Next, I got started on my pear/rosemary bread. It is an easy recipe, and oh so tasty. One of my co-workers had brought in some left over pear/rosemary bread to work several months ago. One bite and I was hooked. Thankfully, her friend emailed her the recipe for me to try out. Apparently, the recipe is from "Pears" by Linda West Eckhardt. It is wonderful.

As with all my recipes, I can't just leave them alone. This time, I added some cranberries. I think everything goes better with cranberries. This bread recipe was no exception, though the cranberries do not allow my palate to taste the pears and rosemary as well as I can without the intruding berries. The final product was rich and delicious. Not sweet like a cake, just wonderfully aromatic and tasty. I used dried rosemary which contributed to a bit of a crunchy texture.

My daughter arrived just in time for me to remove the perfectly formed loaf from the pan and slice her a thick slab with a small dollup of butter. It hardly got a chance to melt on top. She at two pieces.

I am on my second piece right now.

The sun is shining, 
the dogs are napping,
I am writing.
All is right with the world.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


My Dear Friend

This is for Magpie Tales. Thanks Willow.
For other posts please visit: