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:

Sunday, January 2, 2011

The New Year Has Started, Soup's On.

Welcome 2011. 

I think I exorcised all the nastiness of 2010. At least I hope I did. 

During the week before the big event, we start discussing what we want to focus on in the new year.  Phyl and I always start with an intent. I am ready for the Year of Prosperity.

We started by changing how we celebrated the Eve.  We generally are sleeping for a number of hours before the clock chimes in the New Year. It was time to shake things up. 

We have been together six years now, and are settling into a nice rhythm of life together. Once in a while though, I get a little froggy and need to do some jumping. 

Phyl is a very smart gurl, so when I came home with a half-hearted announcement stating we had been invited to an actual party, she said "Hey, let's go." 

"Really? What about staying snug and warm?" (it's been in the single digits at night lately)

"F* it. Let's go."

I was delighted.  We went, and had a ball.

The day after, we took it easy. I had a couple of glasses of champagne, but Phyl had only one glass of bubbly. We had been going like crazy for the week before, movies, dinners, after Christmas sale shopping, taking the dogs out to play in the snow. The usual. A day of rest, without getting out of our jammies or even brushing our teeth, felt decadent. Nice.

Today started the frenzy. 

I realized I had to go back to work tomorrow. I haven't thought about work for the past two weeks. Well, I did have a rather unpleasant dream about one of my students last night, but that is the extent of me spending any time thinking about what I do for a living.

Phyl and I set our course for today. 

1. grocery shopping for the week
2. go to the last must see movie on our list, The Fockers
3. take the dogs for a walk
4. take down Christmas
5. clean house
6. make chicken noodle soup (my specialty)
7. wind down enough to get to sleep
8. wake my ass up at 6 a.m. 

I am working on #7. Hopefully, #8 won't be so bad. I don't want to think about it right now.

Let's talk about #6. I love making soups, stews, and chili. There is something about cooking in a single pot. It makes me all warm and fuzzy on the inside. 

Maybe it is the pseudo-scientist in me, but I like experimenting with the ingredients. I don't think I have ever made the same soup, stew or chili twice. Don't even think about asking for a recipe, but stop by and I will be happy to show you.

It drives my daughter nuts because she is such a measuring freak. I tell her what is in my concoctions, but she just rolls her eyes and says, "Yes, mom, I know, but how much?"

"A pinch, a dash, a palm full of this, chop a couple of these, add a few of cups of this and VOILA! Hey, let go. Free lance it."

"I'll just wait for the left-overs."

Nowadays, it is more difficult for her because she has gone vegetarian. I have looked at cooking for her now as a challenge. I made her some kick ass veggie soup the other day when she said she was coming down with something nasty. I was very proud of myself because I found the requisite veggie ingredients for seasoning. It was a snap. 

Now, my daughter's boyfriend gets the left over good stuff. Tomorrow he will inherit some chicken noodle soup. Not a whole lot because Phyllie is jealous of sharing HER soup, but I make such a huge pot that it will go to waste before she eats all of it. I am good at eating a bowl or two, but she will happily eat it all week long. Especially in this cold weather. It is easy for her to come in and warm up a bowl in the microwave.

I figure prosperity starts with warming the soul. What is better at warming the soul than a good bowl of chicken soup?

We ate our first bowl tonight. 

My day starts early tomorrow, and I pray it comes gingerly. I haven't been up at six since the break started. I know the kids will be brain dead after two weeks off, so I plan on taking it easy for all of our sakes. The trick will be keeping myself in the zen like state I am in now going until Spring break. Wish me luck.

Here's to PROSPERITY in 2011.