Gas heater When I was a little girl, I spent many a night curled up on the hearth in front of a gas heater, listening to the hiss of the gas and staring at the orange and blue flames. Often I could hear my dad’s snoring in his nearby bed, the rhythmic cadence that told…
Month: February 2012
Correction: Wrong Info on Marcia Ball’s Husband
Let me try this again. Marcia Ball is not married to Wick Fowler of chili mix fame, but rather to his son, Gordon, who owns Zona Rosa restaurant and who is a respected plein air painter. Sorry about that!
Protected: Correction: Re: Marcia Ball’s Husband
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Prompt: Marcia Ball and the Texas Blues
We saw Marcia Ball and her band the other night here in Texas at a local club called Loose Wheels. They are a long-term Austin band and they play a combination of Texas blues and Louisiana rock. You could imagine yourself sitting in a New Orleans bar listening to her pound away on her piano…
Prompt: Haiku: Cold Cross-Town Trip at 2 am
Entering the cold A frigid winter’s evening Hides inside the car Cross town trip drags by Car heater spews icy air Legs quiver and quake Front door lock resists Wind so cold it slides through clothes Home awaits with warmth Gas stoves radiate Shivers are replaced with heat A happy relief A night filled with…
Prompt: Haiku: A Winter’s Night
Weather shifts to cold Wind brings Canada far south Stars white in black sky Gas stoves cast orange glow Hot flames flicker with quiet joy Warmth melts away cold Thoughts of bed entice Cozy under heavy quilts A warm, safe cocoon Dreams of summer days Green trees, red birds and blue water Fill this winter…
Underestimating LA Rush Hour or Why Not to Go 50 Miles for an Award
Today I went with one of my students and her mother to the awards ceremony for the California Division of the Scholastic Artists and Writers contest, the oldest and more prestigious contest for youth in the United States. The time of the event was 4:30 in a city 50 miles east of LA. Rush hour….
Good night
Tonight I have to go to bed and go to sleep. My eyes will barely stay open long enough for me to write these words. I have had a killing schedule over the past 2 days. Something about my UCLA daughter counting on me to help her with her term papers plus me needing to…
Flash Fiction Prompt: Hands
Sheila was surprised when the phone didn’t ring. She’d waited all day; waited into early evening. She was certain he’d call, but he didn’t. Not even after he said he would; not even after she said it was okay. She checked to make sure the battery on her phone was charged. She even went to…
Flash Poetry Prompt: Mother Mary
She stares at meA trace of sadness in her eyesThe baby’s cheekNext to hersHis warmth matching her warmthHis baby scent mingling with hers. Her nose is long with a soft tipAnd the baby’s matchesin miniatureTheir lineage clearMaking it no questionWho belongs to whom. And yet the baby looks at his motherWith wisdomHis dark eyes matching…
20 Minutes a Day 