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.
2020 ONGOING VIRTUAL FEST
Share the Joy of Reading with
Holy Schlamoly – honored that my post “2 A.M.” was
- TWO QUIRKS, A CONSIDERATION, AND A QUANDARY – a.k.a. Peculiar Pandemic Ponderings
- LEGO LOCKDOWN – THE STOWAWAYS
- THIS Weekend! Visit the BAY AREA BOOK FESTIVAL From Home!
- MOTHER LOVE – An Earth Day Tale
- LEGO LOCKDOWN – An Old Wife’s Tale
- TP TAILS – Laughter is the best medicine
- BEHIND THE SCENE – MASTERPIECE TALE No. 1: The Artist’s Daughter
- MURDER AT THE CHECKOUT – An Unsolved Mystery Resolved
Member Since 2007
© 2012-2020 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: VIEW FROM MY SOAP BOX
THE QUIRKS: My husband surprised me with blueberry pancakes for breakfast today, and for the first time ever, I noticed that I eat my pancakes in measured quadrants reminiscent of PHI, the law of divine proportion. Later, I nibbled on … Continue reading
It’s been seven years since this story was first posted (2013). Our planet’s population has increased circa 6.5 million. Have we taken measures to better care for our Mother and ultimately ourselves? Let’s see… Sweating and belching, the young mother … Continue reading
webs of spun silk billow in morning’s mild breeze sparkling orbs handiwork of moonlight’s toil twinkle plucked from the cosmos of recollection a cache of memories cling to spider’s haphazard roadmap many muddled fuzzy out of reach others beckon for … Continue reading
She stands facing the pale, windswept bay, tall and erect as the ancient redwoods poking through the shroud of fog folding over the mountain range behind her. They loom in the distance like a pack of protective brothers, chanting in … Continue reading
Why do I write? Good question. It’s not because it’s been a passion ever since second grade when Sister Ann Michael praised my poem I WANT TO BE A DOG for its wit, rhyme, and wild imagination, or the inclusion … 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
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
Clouds of steam rise from bubbling pits on the pocked landscape. It smells like Beelzebub is venting a batch of burned hard-boiled eggs from his sizzling subterranean scullery far below our hiking booted feet.