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 1-2, 2021
Share the Joy of Reading with
Holy Schlamoly – honored that my post “2 A.M.” was
- 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
- HAPPY NEW YEAR from MY PLANET
- 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
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: VIGNETTE
Marie-Anne Carolus-Duran would rather have been sitting in a dark and musty closet ensconced in a nest of her riding instructor’s malodorous paddock boots and picking lint bobbles from her Sunday frock than posing for a portrait with Yéti. The … Continue reading
Alice Wetherby-Pimms had a peculiar penchant for pickles. Be they sweet, sour, or dill, the child was mad about brined cucumbers. Chips, chunks, cubes, finely chopped relishes, halves, slices, spears, sticks and whole, no matter their shape, Alice craved them … Continue reading
Once upon a dreary Sunday many Mays ago, it was unclear whether Alice Wetherby-Pimms had quaffed the dregs of a liter of PLYMOUTH and nodded off under the Steinway or if the ten-year-old had passed out cold in the wake … Continue reading
They say the day Aunt Frankie married Uncle Sally was a day that would live in infamy. I’d learned Franklin D. Roosevelt said that when Pearl Harbor was bombed, but no, most of the family, actually, only the uncles, would … 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
Alice Wetherby Pimms physically felt time pass in the coursing of her blood for as long as she could remember. Every second -tick, tick, tick- was like an invasion of needle-nosed imps nipping at the underside of her plump flesh. Each … Continue reading