A Little About Me
I am an adventure seeking ponderer of the mysteries of the universe, writer of children's books (represented by Stephen Fraser of the Jennifer DeChiara Literary Agency), and lover of anything involving armor, archery, or swashbuckling.
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Holy Schlamoly – honored that my post “2 A.M.” was
- NOW THAT HALLOWEEN HAS PASSED…
- NIGHTMARE ON UNTER DEN LINDEN – A Banned Books Week Tribute
- HEY, RAPUNZEL ~ SURF’S UP!
- KALAALLIT NUNAAT – Man In The Icicle
- THANK YOU, RICHARD PECK (April 5, 1934 – May 23, 2018)
- IN SEARCH OF A NEW ‘F’ WORD
- HOOD RIDING RED LITTLE – A Tale In Reverse
- AN AMUSING REALIZATION
Member Since 2007
© 2012 Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner
Punishment for ignoring said © is, at best, death by hanging from the tallest yardarm. Content may be shared for non-commercial use as long as credit is given to Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner and linked to http://donnaweidner.com All photo, art, and media content that is not my own are for representational + non-commercial purposes. I do my best to give credit where it is due.
PORTS OF CALL
Category Archives: ARCTIC WONDER
Winter Dissolving crystalline crust decomposing evaporating
Quimmer. Stranded. Separated from his pack. About as visible as a grain of sand stuck to the smooth side of a seashell, the dog stands on a slab of sea ice floating atop the placid waves of Scorsbysund. Four days ago, … Continue reading
How long does it take for a potato to freeze? I wondered as the rotors whirred to life. It was April in the Arctic. We were on the last leg of our journey to spending eight days in a remote … Continue reading
She weeps. She wails. She sighs, hopeful that one day her children will learn to use their knowledge wisely. Sermerssuaq The Big Ice. Caribbean-blue melt-water pools the size of small countries spread upon Mother Earth’s once pristine pate. Creaking, cracking she moans, … Continue reading
It’s the question no one asked when they heard I’d be camping in the arctic in the summer of 2009. Last April, seven years later, the same topic lay fallow on the fringe of conversations concerning my dogsled trip in Ittoqqortoormiit, East Greenland. It was barely … Continue reading
A blank page waves from a single flag pole propped in the vast subcortical network of my mental workspace. When I zero in on it, a hint of color leaches through, teasing me with thoughts of surrendering to the barrage of images suddenly cascading from above. But I’m … Continue reading