Growing up, I included so many heroes in my bedtime prayers that it’s a wonder I ever got to sleep – D’Artagnan and all three Musketeers, Sinbad the Sailor, Hercules, the Scarlet Pimpernell, Zorro, most of the Knights of the Round Table, and of course Robin Hood.
Grosset & Dunlap, Inc. 1965
Who wouldn’t want to be an expert archer, live in a forest, and be notorious for doing good deeds. Continue reading
Now that you know how much I wanted to be an astronaut as a child, you can imagine how excited I was when I read this in our local newspaper: “Former astronaut Rusty Schweickart (the Lunar Module Pilot of Apollo 9 – YES!) will speak about his NASA experiences, the future of space travel […] and other topics.”
I immediately got on the horn (that’s a phone for those of you too young to know) and talked my daughter into coming along. I could not talk her into taking a picture with Rusty and me though. Too weird, for her taste.
While I’m getting this week’s post together, I thought I’d share A Year Living Baldly with you. Its author takes – supporting a friend – to another level. You rock Liz! And your friend Lee too!
A musician, an artist, a doctor, a pilot? This is a question we all, as children, have been asked. Even though now we are legally and biologically adults, this is a question many of us are still seeking the answer to, probably because we need to define grow up first.
Is there really a specific age one needs to be to be deemed a grown up? Is it eighteen, twenty-one, thirty? Is one grown up when s/he has found a suitable job or chosen a profession? Or is it a state of maturity? Now there’s a concept! That could take forever. OR – Continue reading
I do. I got bupkis. I got nada, nix (actually it’s nichts), nothing. I’ve walked the pooches, cleaned the house, done the laundry, and started reading THE GIVER all in an attempt to come up with an idea for today’s blog. I even thought that if I simply started writing, forcing that dratted blinking cursor across the screen, my Muse would drop in, as she always has in the past, and just take over. But noooooo – no Muse – just Bupkis. Could she have stayed behind in Scotland? Continue reading
So, there’s a Scottish joke that goes something like this:
Angus had just returned from a holiday in Spain. When his friend Hamish asked him how it was, Angus answered, Continue reading
What do you do at 3:28 AM when you’ve been lying awake since 2:37 AM plagued by tiresome night sweats and listening to your monkey-brain natter on about how you really need to get back to sleep only to have it go on to detail your life from the moment you began packing for a new adventure…
Photo credit: kuuleilani.wordpress.com
In honor of Earth Day, I decided to re-post this short story. I wish you and yours shiny rainbows today…and always.
Sweating and belching, the young mother rolls into the Emergency Room at precisely one minute before midnight.
The attending physician’s eyebrows take on the appearance of his last patient’s electro-cardiogram a moment before her death.
“What is it this time?” he says.
“My temperature is rising,” she rasps.
“Sweat streams like rushing rivers down my face. My feet burn. I can hardly breathe and my mouth is as dry as the Grand Canyon in August.”
His eyebrows cinch. “Has the stabbing pain in your lungs worsened since last you were here?”
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Sure enough—he was the real deal. And who did he think he was fooling with those shades? Certainly, not me. Incognito on a wind still summer’s afternoon—that’s what he was—a living, breathing, incognito San Francisco treat. 
But a cable car operator? As good a disguise as any, I suppose. They do come into contact with all sorts of people—naughty ones, nice ones… Continue reading
*POETRY-IN-PROGRESS
Cursor stabs on blank white screen
While “What will I write today?” loudly screams
(of course-screams are LOUD, unless, they’re silent)
Writhes Twists and thrashes about, bounces around my cerebral cortex Continue reading
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