There was no Jorgen (Just a Friend ) to save me. The cars behind me drove by, leaving me to a fate that sent my overactive imagination into overdrive. Situations like this explain my aversion to suspense books and movies. Seriously, this was prime, stranger danger, CSI episode material.
The Christmas worth repeating was an intentional replication of The Christmas Worth Remembering; except this time we had presents.
This post is a response to a writing prompt for my eighth grade class: Write an autobiographical narrative. The theme is Christmas. Today I’ll share a bad Christmas story. Tomorrow, it will be a pleasant one. So here we go…
I kept my mouth shut, because I know a life lesson when I see one.
Why did we stop celebrating? When did we become complacent with growth? The smaller milestones are what get us to the larger moments people see.
The moral of this post, and the point of my return trips to Arizona (in the middle of the summer) is this. Your children never stop needing you. Lessons that take a lifetime cannot be compressed into eighteen years. Especially when we don’t know what we’re talking for three of those years.
I am doing a mini blog on Instagram and Facebook. Because I have several followers that don’t do social media, the posts will be here too. I have been in Phoenix for a week. Before today, I would have honestly said the love is gone. Were it not […]
My husband’s mother, Irene, was the kindest, sweetest, softest person you would ever want to meet. I may be wrong, but I believe the woman never raised her voice. Ever. When she baked cookies they were shaped perfectly. It is possible that they appeared out of thin air. […]
Who are Sam and Kate you ask? They are the characters in the fourth book in the Ashbrook, Montana series. But don’t let me get ahead of myself it’s story time. Picture if you will, a beach at the beginning of May. Seagulls are flying overhead. The sun is […]
It was enough to renew our sense of purpose. For a while. After two weeks of chopping,hauling, piling and seeing the “to do” pile was still larger than the “done piles.” (Seriously we have enough wood for five or six viking funerals) My husband was hearing my special words.