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I CAN’T WRITE POETRY.

I CAN’T WRITE POETRY.

I CAN’T WRITE POETRY. Autumn kisses summer goodbye and winter’s icy fingers have not yet woken from their frozen sleep. My feet drag through morning kissed grass, promising wet sneakers and socks. Two little dogs trip ahead, sniffing and exploring. I watch as a...
WHEN PICKING UP DOGGIE DOO BECOMES A LESSON.

WHEN PICKING UP DOGGIE DOO BECOMES A LESSON.

WHEN PICKING UP DOGGIE DOO BECOMES A LESSON. I’m a woman prepared. I always have doggie-doo bags to pick up doggie-doo. Lowering his dignity Louie, aka King Louie IV the poodle, carries a small green “earth” container with sweet smelling DD bags.  It’s clipped on to...
COLOR ME NAÏVE

COLOR ME NAÏVE

COLOR ME NAÏVE “Mom, what’s a Xanax Bar?” My fourteen year old, blond hair tied up in a messy pony tail, blue eyes sparkling, school bag slung over one shoulder looked at me expectantly. Mom would know. My only child, my daughter, my life. But I didn’t know. “I don’t...
WHEN A RACCOON FALLS OUT OF A TREE.

WHEN A RACCOON FALLS OUT OF A TREE.

WHEN A RACCOON FALLS OUT OF A TREE. And you don’t know where you are. Morning walks with the pups consist of strolling, sniffing and stopping to do their business. Grassy verges are welcome, as are big patches of lawn where they can run and play. On their leads of...
MY PATH WAS DIFFERENT

MY PATH WAS DIFFERENT

MY PATH WAS DIFFERENT Some time ago we had guests on board for a weekend. The woman, first time I’d met her, was unpretentious, laid back. Nothing about her that spelt danger, excitement, 007 or more. Until I asked the usual question: “What did you do before...