Category Archives: Writing

Ode to Popcorn

Posted on by July 12, 2023

Terms of an engagement: An ode to popcorn

I think I’ll make the popcorn on the stove
and melt a little Cabot on the side.
And if then through our pantry I do rove
I might grate us some dry jack to divide.

Though maybe the air popper is enough
for those who do not like my stinky cheese;
the butter will melt smoothly in the trough
that sits above the greatest blast of heat.

But understand this now my love. I’ll give
up Roquefort, Camembert, and even Brie.
But pop  me no corn in that monster. Dine
alone if you engage that dread machine.… Read the rest

The old ball game

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Ray threw the ball, and his dog Moose bulleted across the yard in pursuit. The ball hit the garden shed and ricocheted off to one side. Just before he, too crashed into the small building, Moose diverted with a stumbling skid and shot over the ball, which bounced to a stop. The dog leaped up, spun in midair, and came down on top of his helpless prey, which remained fixedly rubber and inanimate.

From the patio, Sharee asked, “Doesn’t he ever bring the thing back?”

“Yeah,” said Ray. “When he’s killed it dead enough.”

He drifted back to sit by Sharee.… Read the rest

Mocafe Matcha Green Tea Sour Cream Cake

Posted on by July 12, 2023

I ran across a really fun blog opportunity a few weeks ago thanks to the awesome ladies at 5 minutes for Mom. Here’s how it works. The lovely people at Mocafe sent me a package of their Matcha Green Tea, and I got to try it in a recipe of my choosing.

I love to cook, so this was a nobrainer, the samples were a plus, AND, when I paste my blog entry into the linky form, I’ll be eligible to win a really cool Blendtec Blender. (Hey, vote for me over here, will you? Just click the little thumbs up.… Read the rest

Long time coming

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Reverend George Lee
Once upon a time, a girl was born. Let’s call her Mary.
Lamar Smith
Mary was born in a small house, and there was no electricity.
Emmett Louis Till
Some nights, when she was little, she and her mother blew out the candles and hid under the bed.
John Earl Reese
And some nights, her father hid with them.
Willie Edwards, Jr.
But other nights, her father sat on the porch and whispered, “I dare you, I dare you, I dare you bastards.”
Mack Charles Parker
One night, her father didn’t come back in, and the next day, Mary and her mother moved into town.… Read the rest

The difference between typing and writing

Posted on by February 25, 2020

I have told this before. And I think I will repeat it until the end of my life, until it stops haunting me. In grad school, I lost my writing. I felt it drain out of me one idea after another.

I wrote a story, something about police and cats, and I couldn’t feel the next one there behind it. It wasn’t writer’s block. I wasn’t stuck. I had loads of words floating around in my tank. But I had no more stories at all. For four years, I stopped being a writer.

I’m good at the butt-in-chair thing. Always have been.… Read the rest

Method of Entry

Posted on by February 25, 2020

“Why do you want to borrow my collective’s tunneler. And what makes you think I’d give it to you?”  Jay Harris stood in front of me in the middle of the sidewalk.

“So I can kill Leonard Grady.”

“Jesus!” Jay flinched like I’d just shot him. “What did he do to you? Why would I help you out? And now we’ve been seen out walking in public…”

“You talk like I’m going to get caught, Jay. I’m not.” I squared around to face him. “Leonard killed Maggie.” I tried to keep my inflection flat. I wanted him to think I could keep my emotions together.… Read the rest

Inviting water

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Anna said, “I’m sorry, Mom.” She looked out the kitchen window towards the traitorous pool, where she would not be swimming today, after all.

“I just wish you’d told me sooner.” Kaya drank her herbal tea slowly. She pushed a second cup towards Anna, who didn’t touch it.

Then Anna got up. She meant to leave, but instead, she grabbed her swim cover up off the back of her mother’s chair. She wasn’t cold, but she felt naked. The bikini had been ill advised.

Kaya set down her mug and rubbed her own temples. “There would have been more we could have done about it then.”… Read the rest

Desk Job

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Jordy said, “She’s got a ten a.m. or a three p.m. next Wednesday.”

The woman on the phone said, “I guess the three o’clock then. I’ll see if my sister can take the kids for an hour.”

“OK, if not, just give us a call, and we’ll set you up for another time.”

Jordy had stopped offering to hang out with people’s children. His Mom’s clients were uncomfortable leaving their kids with a teen boy. It didn’t matter that the shop only had two rooms and a bathroom or that his Mom could crack the door so the clients always had access to everything that went on.… Read the rest

Winning

Posted on by February 25, 2020

I hurled down the Norton Anthology of American Literature. It was an undergraduate text, but heavy, and I had hopes. No. It ricocheted harmlessly off my windshield. Next, I tried the MLA Handbook. One bounce and it fell onto the pavement.  A Reader’s Guide to Contemporary Literary Theory, Critical Theory Since Plato, The Heart and Stomach of a King, and The English Language: A Historical Introduction. All of them thumped against the glass. Some of them lodged at the top of the hood or caught in the windshield wipers. The rest cascaded down into the parking lot. But none of them started so much as a hairline crack.… Read the rest