18 Hours To Home - from the Chronicles of the Atlanta Abominable

It was a beautiful Monday – a bright and balmy 50*. The weatherman on my news station said there was a a possibility of a wintry mix, a dusting of snow from the monster storm to our west. But it was heading across the gulf coast to the south of us. I shrugged it off and planned for a ho-hum, run of the mill Tuesday.That was my first mistake....more

To my son on his high school graduation

Dear Son,You are much too grown up for your own age.Here I am at fifty-two, seeking ways to make my work the same as play and to make every day a holiday. My knees hurt, my baby fat simply won’t budge no matter how many laps I swim, and all the peroxide in the county won’t cover the silver at my temples. I blame it on my genes.I suspect you will too, sometime in the next forty years.   ...more

A week of Mondays, a month of Sundays, and a year of 13ths and Mercury in retrograde….

It’s a creepy world out there.But it’s a good one too, and 2013, with all its digital publishing turnovers is a year full of opportunity.WriterMason Productions has a lovely debut author to promote, so fun things are percolating.I have a  new story that is coming along nicely, finally feeling like my voice fits....more

That *%#& Baby Boomer Label!

Ugh. I hate being called a Baby Boomer.  Number one - I am not a baby, but a grown woman, thank you very much. With a birthday racing forward in the shortest month - the one crammed with holidays. My fridge calendar for February will be inked with a Super Bowl get together, wistful notations of New Orleans parades I'll miss, Valentine's Day, and my birthday, all squished between dentist appointments and college campus visits and deadlines for scholarship applications.  ...more
Camay, SweetTarts, banana seat bikes. Head-clacking Pez dispensers and candy necklaces, the bike ...more