Share   Today a dear friend lost someone they love to a prescription drug overdose.  Such a sad thing.  As I shared the news with Billy, he looked confused. “What’s Oxycodone?” he questioned. “It’s an addictive prescription drug.  A pain medicine.” “I don’t understand,” he said.  “That kills you?” I don’t understand. WHAT? How did I miss this? I’ve talked to my kids about pot, booze, meth and coke.  We’ve covered smoking, chewing (still working on that one), and drinking to excess.  We had a detailed discussion about ‘huffing’ two years ago when a friend’s teenager passed from experimenting.  I [READ MORE]

Share Fiction Friday, my way of forcing myself to write outside my comfort zone of non-fiction, by backing myself into a corner every Thursday night. Chapter ONE   Chapter TWO Chapter THREE Chapter Four By Monday morning, word had gotten around the village and whispers had turned into assumptions which had quickly become pure fact, as is the way with small town gossip.  Jess was bored out of her mind, having spent all day Sunday playing Where’s The Toothbrush, a one player game invented by the equally bored toddler who’d planted himself in her life.  She’d finally found it in [READ MORE]

Share Mya and Shawnta 2004   They sit at the tiny table, the two of them. One across from the other Cutching crayons In pink fingers.  Perfect little fingers.   The girl on the left is four, the right six. Sized almost the same Almost identical They are sisters in life—if not by blood.   The left one speaks clearly.  Smart, witty, quick, Talented, smart-ass She leads the other She will always rule her, if not the whole world.   The left child sings her alphabet, says her numbers And yells at the older one When she gets it wrong [READ MORE]

Share  When I found a porcupine in my yard a couple of nights ago while videoing the coyotes across the driveway, it never really occurred to me to do anything other than Facebook his picture…because what else would I do…until my friend Cindy suggested I should collect some quills for crafting. And me being a person who would never actually do a craft, I thought, sure. Why not? Cindy, who shall forever be blamed for what happened next…not myself for taking the advice but she for giving it…told me I should throw a pillow on him.  She didn’t really give [READ MORE]

Share Backwoods Bread I grew up on homemade bread.  It was thick. It was soft. It was healthy.  It was probably delicious. And I hated it. So when I became a parent myself I swore to give my children only the best store bought, fluffy white bread.  But when I acquired a houseful of children who devour more than a loaf a day and prices soared to more than four bucks a loaf….baking bread became the option of choice.  I mean, why should my kids be any happier than I was as a kid? What ruins all my fun…is that [READ MORE]