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.
Share the Joy of Reading with a Child in Need
Holy Schlamoly – honored that my post “2 A.M.” was
- SERMERSSUAQ – An Earth Day Homage
- KALAALLIT NUNAAT – Looking For A Fix
- KALAALLIT NUNAAT – Taking Care Of Business
- VALENTINES DAY IS NOT JUST FOR LOVERS
- DID SOMEONE SAY CHOCOLATE?
- ODE TO RESILIENCE
- WOCKA – WOCKA! An Encounter of the Metaphorical Kind
- BEINN HIANT – My Everest
- A PRE-HALLOWEEN SCOTTISH TALE
- FOOD FOR ‘HERE AND NOW’ THOUGHT
Member Since 2007
Drop Anchor, Grab a Shovel, and Dig Through The Past
© Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner 2012-2017Punishment 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.
A FEW FELLOW SWASHBUCKLERS
Category Archives: ROAD TRIP
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
As the sun sets behind this stretch of the Pacific Coast Ranges, a mountain chain that stretches from Alaska to central Mexico, I not only wonder, but marvel at
The ageing comedian, known the world over for his slapstick parodies, brushed past me in the pre-dawn chill to take his place in the crowd queuing up to board the British Airways flight from Edinburgh to London. I have packing my warm jacket … Continue reading
Highland sheep dotted the roadside under the pre-dawn sky. The velvet canopy looked like flocks of faeries had tossed fistfuls of glitter at the new moon only to have it stashed inside the Big Dipper and then purposefully strewn across the Milky Way by … Continue reading
Once the morning sun broke through the clouds, the grey mist pulled back from Glenborrodale’s ragged shoreline’s nooks and crannies. It rose from the loch like a gossamer shade tugged from the edge of a wooded windowsill revealing a beauty distinct to the … Continue reading
There’s something surreal about spotting a row of paw prints the size of cast-iron skillets stamped in the snow thirty feet from where you’ve been sleeping.