Pamela Gibson I’m feeling a little mystical this morning, pondering fate and the existence of that fickle finger that leads you into new directions. Perhaps the bottle of old vine zinfandel I had with my dinner last night had something to do with it. Or maybe it was the scorpion I saw climbing the wall next to … Read more
I saw a meme on Facebook that made me think. It was from Sun Gazing and said: You have permission to rest; you don’t have to fix everything; you do not have to make everyone happy. Take care of yourself. Fine words, but it’s hard to change if you’re one of those people. I confess … Read more
I’m sitting in my favorite chair (the one that kills my back when I get up), thinking about what I should write about today. Capt. Mark is busy at his computer, happily designing bookmarks for me to take to a convention in May. I am not being productive. He is. I’m not sure why bookmarks … Read more
I got up out of a comfortable chair, grabbed my lower left back, and howled. It doesn’t take much to pinch a nerve or throw something out of whack when you lead a sedentary life, and unfortunately, our shore time is spent indoors more than out. Being a writer with deadlines doesn’t help. I have … Read more
A lot of people love rain. They love loud thunderstorms with slashes of lightning. They like to watch raindrops sliding down a windowpane. They like to hear it on the roof while snuggled under a comforter. Me…not so much. I find rain depressing. I could never live in the Pacific Northwest and wisely chose the … Read more