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Glimpses of Inspiration

North Lake Tahoe

 "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!"      Lewis Carroll


"Let your fiction grow out of the land beneath your feet."   Eudora Welty

Published

"Chicken In Turkey"

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"Tiny Tattoos"

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"Haunted By Glue Guns"

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"Smokey in the boys' room"

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(contributor, page 27)"I Salute You, Mother"

Tuesday
Sep102013

Clean Language

I was in my bedroom. My 12-year-old who was doing the dishes yelled down the hall, “Mom, where’s the sponge for washing dishes?”

“In the dishwasher!” You know how you're supposed to run them through a cycle to de-gross them?

Nothing but silence came back. Then a quiet, “Oh, the irony.”

Did he say irony? Yes! I smiled. My new superhero, Irony-man.

Wednesday
Jan232013

The Dangers of Working At Home

I was researching high school mountain bike racing for a story when hunger or boredom or the need to change positions distracted me. Rice Crispy treats would fix everything. The recipe appeared on my screen. I had the ingredients on hand: Rice Crispies were on sale yesterday so I'd bought two boxes and I have mini-marshmallows since it’s hot cocoa season. You can use mini-marshmallows. The recipe says so. It was a sign.

In less than ten minutes I’d made them, devoured the Crispies crust in the bowl and consumed three still pliable squares. Back to writing. First, though, I think I'll make peppermint tea to complement the lingering sweet aftertaste. Then back to work. I promise. Although maybe I should go for a walk now. 

Thursday
Aug232012

I just saw my oldest son off to college. We hugged at the airport. Upon releasing, he lingered on my face, his head tilted down from his 6'4" stature. The last time we held each other's gaze that long he was looking up from my arms as I nursed him. I think he was searching my face for tears, but I had none. That was uncharacteristic and I wonder where I will be and what I'll be doing when it hits me.

Monday
Feb132012

The Kitchen Windowsill--A Domestic Dashboard

The contents on my kitchen windowsill warm me like a cup of tea: A frog statue my boys gave me for mother's day, a potted rose my Godson gave me, a scented candle for when life stinks, and a ceramic spoon that needed rescuing. My oldest son, who was thirteen at the time, made the spoon in art class. He was trying to be practical, which I like. I’ve made it known in our small house that if we’re going to have something taking up precious space, it needs to be functional. (This includes humans.)

The morning after he brought it home, he was almost late for school. It took him nearly an hour to eat his cereal. He lamented the spoon’s uselessness, the flattish bottom making it nearly impossible to get milk and cereal in one bite. I set it on the windowsill and filled it with a cluster of tiny sea-snail shells that had been presented to me from my youngest son’s clutched fist. I gathered the loose shells and rolled them from my palm into the spoon. Together they’ve sat in my view ever since, doing any kitchen utensil proud with its spoon-size dose of daily sustenance, and zero calories to boot!

Thursday
May192011

I love my mother’s take on things. We talk on the phone regularly, yet she still manages to surprise me.

Mom:   Did you get the latest Lands’ End catalog?

Me:      Yes. (Grabbing it from the mail.)

Mom:   Turn to page 23.

Me:      Okay. (Mom likes the shorts? The belt?)

Mom:   Now turn to page 58.

Me:      Okay. (Hmmm…men’s section.)

Mom:   Don’t you think he and the woman on page 23 would make a good couple?

Oh, not shopping. I stuck my hand in at page 58 and flipped back to 23, then back again. She had a point.

Me:      Yeah, and they’d have cute kids.

There was a pause, then I heard the riffle of pages. Without waiting for instruction, I too turned to the children’s section, searching for their child. Who needs to spend money to have fun with a catalog?