What a funny adjective to use to describe me. I don’t really think I “rock.” I’m much too ordinary for that. I’m a geek, a dork and sometimes even a fuddy duddy. So it always amuses me when someone tells me that I “rock.” I know its just a compliment, […]
Sesno Galler is a character from my first novel (working title “Patricia Arian Richfield”). I got his name from my Chemistry teacher in High School — I took the teacher’s name and twisted it around. He was a teacher in training and I didn’t really like him much. The novel […]
This morning, I was walking Sprocket the Amazing Weasel Dog around the block when I heard what sounded like children laughing … in the trees. The sound came again. This time it sounded like a crow with too much trill. I looked up at the almost completely denuded maple tree […]
This experiment in poetry form was written in 1983. Over the snow, there rides a sleigh. Clop, clop is the rhythm of the horse hooves. Bells jingle, jingle around the horse’s neck. Fog creeps upon the snow. The rumble, grumble sound of the horse breaks upon a quiet scene. The […]
For a while now, I’ve thought that the Honda Element was the world’s ugliest car. But I was wrong. Recently, I saw the Toyota Scion XB and it makes the Element look so much better. So here’s my Random Thought: Why did someone think that designing a car to look […]
Written Feb. 7, 1983. I stay inside the dark and weary castle keep. It is lonely. I know loneliness. She is my friend. Outside is cold. There are many vicious things out there. The many pronged whip that beats on you until you’re a bloody pulp. The razor that slices […]
If happy thoughts truly could make you fly, my feet would rarely touch the ground as long as Sprocket was in my life. I just love my dog!
It must have started at the beginning of the summer, but I didn’t really notice until the end of August. For months, my husband had been complaining that my hair was all over the place – the floor, the shower, the bathroom counters, etc. I told him it was because […]
Written Feb. 27, 1992. You looked at me as if I was a person as if I was beautiful as if I mattered You, who were to hold my first born and smile but were torn too soon away from life You, who in my mourning were a bright star […]
