Bring On Lemons

I was trying to come up with a catchy title for what's bopping around in my brain today. The words I'm hearing were spoken by my daddy when I was a little girl: "don't take yourself so seriously". Of course, I could have used that, but I wanted something catchier so I goggled synonyms of the word serious (this took a while as I spell synonym all sorts of ways: synonim, sinonim...anyway, you'd think I'd learn). Here's what I found: austere, bound, cold sober, contemplative, determined, earnest, funereal, genuine, grave, grim, honest, etc... The word 'grave' sort of caught my eye. I guess because I know that if we take ourselves too seriously, it leads to stress which in an unhealthy amount can lead to health problems which eventually lead us to our death or our grave as you will. That's the moral of today's story... take yourself too seriously or spend too much time being GRAVE and you'll wind up in the grave . Now, if you...

I finished this short story a few days ago (in a notebook with a pen - specifically a fine point pen, because they're so much nicer to write with) and it just took a while to get it polished up enough for the blog. I'll be showing it to my writer's group next week which will mean even more changes and hopefully it will be my next submission - and the winning submission I hope - for an upcoming flash fiction contest. Please share your thoughts on the blog, or with a private message/email. Thank you as always for your support! "Honey, are you sure you're feeling okay?" "YES. Why do you keep asking?" "Oh...no reason really...you just don't seem yourself." ...silence... ...furnace kicks in with a whirrr... ....plip...plop...the faucet must be leaking again... The same conversation that always leaves the room feeling large and empty. I imagine that most couples start the day with a good morning kiss or enduring exchange. We did...

Getting it Right This Time? I knew that I had been forgiven the moment I read the prayer with Pastor in his office that day. After several lonely years away from my church and my friends, I would finally be welcomed back with open arms and forgiven. Yes, I had three children with three different fathers, I was divorced, a single mother raising two of my three children, and I had been a young woman who placed her first born for adoption. I had been a mess. Left church because I chose to live a life of sin, and now I was back and begging for forgiveness. It would have been easier to stay away, but doing the right thing was not always the easy thing…or at least that’s what Daddy had told me. Shortly after my confession and absolution, I met an amazing man. We had a fabulous first few weeks. Then I found out that he had been a repeat drunk driver. He would spend our first Christmas and Valentine’s Days on house arrest. He said he would understand if I decided to end things. However...

a little flash fiction for this brisk Wisconsin evening - enjoy "May your paths be abundantly filled with lemons, sugar, sunshine, and explanations you can grow from." ~Crystal Eyes Wide Open How one question explained an entire childhood and helped me realize what I didn’t want… I remember spending a lot of time with Dad when I was growing up. He taught me about things he enjoyed – gardening, reading, cooking, and he instilled in me a great love of nature and the outdoors. Mom is in my memories but not in an active role. I can see her sitting on the couch knitting, but I don’t remember DOING anything with her. There was arguing about what I would wear to school, and I remember Mom forbidding me to wear lipstick, hair spray, or perfume…but as much as I try to, I don’t remember shopping trips, baking cookies, school field trips, or anything with Mom. They’re both gone now and there are a handful of photographs showing Dad and I (in the sandbox, at the beach, ...