I’m always looking for props for storytelling. When I go to a thrift store, I always browse the toy aisle. One day I found a cat puppet. Its strings were all tangled up. I started to put it back, but then I thought, I can fix this. And if I can’t, 75 […]
The light in my kitchen is dim, creating a slightly depressed feeling. A thin sheet of plastic on the outside of the window blocks my sunshine. I hadn’t realized how much I depended on those rays of sunlight to brighten my day. I know that this is temporary. When the house painters are finished, the
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Juneteenth is a new federal holliday. Here is my new poem. Reaching Out I reach out my hand.We are different, you and I.Color of skin, education level, family cohesiveness.We are different, you and I.I understand that I do not understand.I have not lived in the worldWhere you exist.I have
I belong to which a writing group hosted by Stuart Nager who lives in New York. The basic link is pw.org/groups. After you join the group, you will need to create a profile and join A Prompting of Writers: Your Challenge to Imagine. This group meets every Saturday morning online at 10:00 AM EST, but
Villiana’s Backstory Read More »
We were on our way to Idaho for a vacation when our doorbell rang. How did we know that? We have a ring doorbell. I looked at my phone and saw my young friend leave a white gift bag on my doorstep. I watched her go back down the sidewalk, and I wondered what was
The tulips, lilacs and flowers in Idaho and Utah remind me of a song my brother used to sing: “When it’s springtime in the Rockies, I’ll be coming back to you, little sweetheart of the mountains with your bonnie eyes so blue.” My sister and I would climb the pole fence around the corral and
The story of the pearl-handled pistol has always intrigued me. I first heard it from Ralph Durfee who lived through the events that happened in Mexico in the early 1900’s. I was recently invited to tell stories at a Family History event in Idaho. As I researched this story and talked with older siblings, I
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The aroma of lilacs wafts its way to me as I step out of my car at my daughter’s house. A row of lilacs in full bloom lines the sidewalk. My mind travels back to when I was young and I remember cutting bunches of lilacs. It is Memorial Day and we are going to
Things are getting old around here—and not just people. My garbage disposal started growling at me when I expected it to function. Then it didn’t growl any more. I need a new garbage disposal. I procrastinate and get along without it for the present. My husband and I are still sheltering, and we choose to
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The opening hymn in Church this morning was music only—no singing on account of Covid-19. But I didn’t need to voice the words to hear them in my mind: “Because I have been given much, I too must give.” My mind traveled back almost 30 years. It was just before Thanksgiving in 1991 when a
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