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.
MAY 2-3, 2020
Share the Joy of Reading with
14 February 2020
Holy Schlamoly – honored that my post “2 A.M.” was
- FROM MRS. HUMBUG TO YOU – A (sort of) Holiday Greeting
- IT’S DECEMBER? WHAT HAPPENED TO NOVEMBER?
- ODE TO ME BONNIE BLUE PLAID WELLIES
- THE CASE OF THE PURLOINED PICKLE
- MINDING MY Ps AND Qs – A Punctilious Quest
- MINING 4 MEMORIES IN THE LEAST LIKELY PLACE
- SECRETS, LIES, and SFOGLIADELL’
- IN HOT PURSUIT OF THE UNTETHERED MIND
Member Since 2007
© 2012-2019 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.
BLOG-MATIES I VISIT
Category Archives: EVENTS
I woke up this morning, with my back to a tree wond’ring how on earth my chin hairs had grown past my dimpled knees. The last thing I remember, someone cried out, “trick-or-treat!” Now it’s suddenly December? Are those gnomes … Continue reading
Oh, y’ve done me well, me bonnie blue plaid wellies, always keepin’ me from sinkin’ deep in bogs squishy, black, an’ smelly. I’ve enjoyed our strolls across lush fairy glens, twistin’ up trails o’ sweet smellin’ heather,
I know it’s presumptuous, and most likely, not easy. It just might, in fact, be considered quite sleazy, to expect you, dear Cupid, to share your day with another, even though this worthy project has been sanctioned by your brother. … Continue reading
It’s somehow fitting. The sweeping square is shrouded in silence, but for the dime-size drops of rain slapping the neatly laid cobbled stones under my feet. The typically bustling quad is empty too, except for the line of bicycles strung … Continue reading
One paper heart trimmed in frilly, white lace, One arrow, one promise of a sweet, warm embrace. Once it’s notched, drawn, and trained on a specific bullseye, Cupid first blows a kiss, and then lets it fly ~