Dallas here.
Mama’s busy working on her stupid laptop, so she asked me to pitch-hit again.
(Not really, but won’t she be surprised when she sees my new post and your lovely comments, tee hee!!)
Author Archives: Debbie
Love in the Afternoon
Note: I don’t usually write poetry. This one came to me out of nowhere (after reading it, you’ll probably say I should’ve left it there!). But we’re all friends, right? So I’m open to criticism, suggestions, comments. Here goes:
He’d never believed in Love at First Sight.
Until now.
Right. This. Moment.
She cruised in, looking far more captivating
than anyone had a right to do on a Tuesday afternoon.
Wearing a black-as-midnight dress,
Silver shoes,
A come-hither look in her eyes.
And when the lights found her, she glowed.
Summoning courage, he made his way toward her.
Head uplifted, heart pounding, shoulders squared.
Would he be enough man for her?
“Sorry, pal. She’s taken.”
Stricken, he gaped at the killjoy dousing his flaming desire.
Then he saw the sign affixed to her rear window —
Sold.
And his heart fell.
Adjusting to Change
Several of my son’s friends are still in college. Some are undergrads at ND; others are in grad school or medical school in various parts of the States.
And I can’t help feeling just a wee bit jealous of the time their families get to spend with them during the holidays.
Because I only had a week with Domer.
Merry Christmas to all!
Domer is finally home for the holidays!
One of our favorite places to get in the Christmas spirit — ever since he was little — is an immense lighting display put on by our community’s tourism office at a local park.
To The Rescue
Here we go again. Once more, a client of mine has stumbled — unwittingly — into a dark cave, and I’m summoned to haul her out.
Only this time, I decided to write about it.
So other unsuspecting people won’t go through the same sort of misery. Continue reading
Solve My Mystery
Pantser vs. Plotter
“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.”
—George Orwell
If you’re a writer, do you fall into the Pantser or the Plotter camp?
Many of us are combinations of the two, but lately, I’m wishing I was more of a Plotter. And I’m kicking myself for spending FAR too much time writing out of the foxhole I unwittingly dug so long ago.
Learning to Swim
One of those ads for health care coverage came on TV recently, and it transported me right back to my childhood.
Perhaps you’ve seen it — a beefy, bearded adult man has “waited too long” and is taking swimming lessons with half a dozen or so cheerful youngsters.
He looks miserable, and I feel his pain.
It’s a Birthday!
Somebody’s having a birthday this week — can you guess who?
Big-Time Shopping
Recently, I went to see my son Domer in The Land of the North, and we took a little day jaunt to “one of the most visited tourist destinations in the world.”
Can you guess what that was?
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 