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One early spring morning, two springs ago, I looked out my back window and noticed a red flower in my garden, peeking above a boulder, trying to get my attention. Now how did that get there? I know that I didn’t plant a red plant anywhere. I put on my shoes and strolled to the middle of my yard. Out by the blooming Dogwood I discovered a lone, red tulip, dipping and swaying in the gentle breeze, waltzing in a juvenile dance of joy, nodding to the early morning sun, delighted just to be in this world. “Well, good mornin...
I begin counting down the days to Spring Equinox the day after Winter Solstice, my favorite day of the year. We have more daylight hours each day even if we are unable to see it directly, just seconds, then minutes, then hours. Spring Equinox, a balance between light and dark, is finally here kicking the dark to the curb and we are privy to longer daylight and shorter darkness. Spring, to me, is a season so exciting that I revel in the giddy feeling to be alive. I love waking up to the infant colors of pastels and green....
Dearest One, It saddens me to address you in this manner but I don’t know what else to do. You do not listen to me. So, that being the case, I will have to let you know in writing that our relationship is over. I am done! I have repeatedly been blown over by your unfatihfulness and your stormy behavior. Up one day, down the other. I can no longer depend on your promises of change and your empty assurances of warmth are fickle to say the least. I need your love like the warm caress of balmy spring breezes and the beauty of c...
Fritz Funkenbothum was a mess. He had moved to Florida, the land of perpetual sunshine, bugs, gnats, unbelievable humidity, swamps, marshes, and huge alligators, seven years ago after his breakup with Mitzy Dumbkin, a two timing lass who was only concerned for herself, and didn’t know the meaning of commitment. Nothing was right in Fritz’s life and had not been for quite sometime, well maybe never. The job he was promised fell through shortly after his move to Florida, the move to start a new life all over again. Fritz had...
The Writers Workshop began as a non-credited course through the Community Colleges of Spokane Institute for Extended Learning. The course changed to the ACT 2 Program to encourage seniors over the age of 50 to participate in classes. This course was designed for those who want to write memoirs, stories, essays or poetry. Members share their work, weekly. Discussion and thoughtful, considerate, feedback is encouraged. Lisa Conger, the third course facilitator, acquired the position in 2000. After Fall quarter, 2019, the...
In desperation, I took a short cut through the alley, hoping to find shelter from the howling, blowing wind, and the bone chilling cold. The night is very dark and I am in a strange city. I’m afraid that the directions to the Hostel that I was given may only lead to danger. My sneaker clad feet are numb and my gloveless hands ache from the bitter cold. I am exhausted and at this point the only thing I can think of is to slide down in a doorway and give in to my despair. There are no other people around, the shops are c...
There’s a party going on in my back yard, and a good one too, from the looks of it. Seems like everyone is getting quite rowdy with the confetti of fall strewn everywhere. The Aspen tree is still a bit tipsy with its gorgeous, yellow leaves dancing precariously in the wind, leaves who are trying to stay, but must reluctantly let go and drift to the ground. Beyond are two Dogwoods and an Ornamental Pear, outfitted in shades of red, yellow and green, clinging to their dresses as they sober up for what’s to come, avoiding the...
I begin counting down the days to Spring Equinox the day after Winter Solstice, my favorite day of the year. We have more daylight hours each day even if we are unable to see it directly, just seconds, then minutes, then hours. Spring Equinox, a balance between light and dark, is finally here kicking the dark to the curb and we are privy to longer daylight and shorter darkness. Spring, to me, is a season so exciting that I revel in the giddy feeling to be alive. I love waking up to the infant colors of pastels and green....
Loneliness, just like other emotions, is a choice. It’s a message that I tell myself when I am feeling left out, or ill, or depressed, or hounded by dreary thoughts. All my own doing. Most of us are firm believers in the numerous messages that we are bombarded with each day in the media, newspapers, in our families, friends, churches, and society in general. Some good. Some we get fixated on. Maybe we are sad because we miss places that we have lived and didn’t want to leave or we had to leave because of a job or a com...
I don’t know about you but telemarketer and scam calls set me on fire. That’s why I was probably the first one to sign up for the “Do Not Call” list. Well maybe not the first, but close. I have Caller ID so my answering machine records 800 calls and if they are a legitimate call the caller will leave a message. One day my phone rang as I was passing through my kitchen and glancing at the phone I thought I recognized the 800 phone number as that of my c-pap supplier so I picked up. Expecting to hear a bright, chirpy, young t...
I don’t know about you but telemarketer and scam calls set me on fire. That’s why I was probably the first one to sign up for the “Do Not Call” list. Well maybe not the first, but close. I have Caller ID so my answering machine records 800 calls and if they are a legitimate call the caller will leave a message. One day my phone rang as I was passing through my kitchen and glancing at the phone I thought I recognized the 800 phone number as that of my c-pap supplier so I picked up. Expecting to hear a bright, chirpy, young t...
What would the wildflowers say as their seeds lie germinating in the frozen earth, under the snow, waiting what seems like an eternity before fruition? Would they remain positive in their thoughts of the promise of Spring in a few months, or would they worry about all of the diversity in our beautiful world? Just like the buried seeds of wildflowers, I find myself tending to hibernation as the first snow arrives to cover up the tasks that need tending, even after my own warnings to get things done before the snow flies. The...
Pictures are reminders that this moment will never come again. We are frozen in time for that moment. We will never be here with each other exactly like this again. Collecting family photos has kept me connected since I left my family of origin so many years ago when I set out on a long adventure and created my own family. Looking at pictures of family members, warts and all, always helped buffer the intense homesickness that I felt, at times, that emphasized being so far from home. Pictures can be the great pretenders. What...
I grew up with strong rituals, a set hour for bedtime and arising the next morning, three meals served much the same time each day, every day, home by 6:00 each evening. A day for laundry. A day for ironing, etc. Dependable, scheduled, ritualized. Raised in a Catholic Church and attending a parochial school further entrenched age old rituals that were engrained down through generations, becoming an integral part of one’s being. We are a ritualized society, ruled by the seasons, accomplishing tasks in a time of accepted n...
