Stashes of Stuff
My response to a significant question posed for the Insecure Writers Support Blog members: If you could live in any book world, which one would you choose?
I’m pleased to be nearly a lifelong reader. Here’s a reading list for the books that enthralled me in my childhood.
The purpose of this blog post is to consider my obit. Have you ever done that? What would be written on your tombstone or urn? What would people say about you when you’re gone? What do you hope they say… well, get busy working on that goal. Think, then do-be-do-be-do.
What we didn’t do last summer – because we were caged in quarantine – we’re not doing this summer because people have busily over-scheduled their lives. It’s too eerily, ironically similar for words… the unintended consequences of being sprung and free-range.
I have rings around my waist, mid-rise, and hips. I stand like a toddler’s stacking toy: red ball for my head atop a double chin stacked above a life preserver and two auto tires, as an ode to the Micheline man. On the upside, I can’t topple in this configuration. Perhaps I waddle when I walk. Call me Lady of the Rings.
a convivial account of the monthly meetings of the Bunco Babes, complete with speculation regarding th secret room
During conversations with family and friends, my husband and I persistently find ourselves typecast as designated listeners. We’ve been cooped up by Covid, too, and lament that few wish to listen to us.
A lengthy list of words that begin with Z – to memorize so that one can use the Z letter tile in Scrabble!
Father’s Day celebrations approach and I’m sad that my dad isn’t alive. Yet he’s not forgotten, forever in my heart.
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