EVERYTHING YOU WRITE IS DUMB
This!—>>I write stuff sometimes and I think I'll post it and then I don't and then I think it's dumb or somebody said it better already. :)
Hider in the House: Episode Ten
“I do a pretty good imitation of my mom.” She adopted what Hallie assumed was her mother’s stance and demeanor as she pretended to hold a phone to her ear. “Yes, this is Kristina Blaisdell, Rebecca Purdue’s mother. Rebecca isn’t feeling well today and won’t be at school.”
Hider in the House: Episode Nine
Hider in the House: Episode Nine Hallie’s heart beat so fast she could hear blood rushing through her veins. Her fight or flight response kicked in at the same time…
Hider in the House: Episode Eight
Still she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t nearly as safe hiding out here as she thought she was.
Sunday Morning Musings: Me: God, please help me God: I’m trying, but you’re not listening.
Even when we say, “Oh, God” or “Oh, my God” or plain old “God!” it’s a prayer of sorts. Whether we’re sharing grief, frustration, or joy, God hears us.
The Space Between Us
Forty years of anniversaries that commemorate the last time we thought we knew what we were getting into.
Writer’s Notes: Where Did That Idea Come From?
Although it was inspired by friends of mine who have five daughters, one of whom is named Stephanie, and one of whom (the youngest) had a Christmas wedding, I'm not sure why I decided to write a romantic Christmas novella.
Sin: Gluttony Verdict? Guilty
I’ve come to the conclusion that we are a nation of gluttons. Not only when it comes to food, but in so many areas of our lives. We have too much. Too many choices, too easily obtained.
A Better Version of Me
what if I couldn’t do any of those things? What if I was trapped in a house, in my room, in my bed, alone and in pain? What if I couldn’t bathe myself? What if getting to the toilet required a monumental effort equaled only by getting back to my bed afterward?
Hider in the House – Episode Eight
He frowned. “How would you…? Wait. You were watching me get dressed?” His tone of voice conveyed his outrage at her invasion of his privacy.
“Oh, come on. How much do you think I could see hiding under the bed so you wouldn’t find me? Not much, I can tell you that. Mostly what I saw was your feet. Your shoes and socks. Your pants cuffs.”
“And from that you deduced I was an accountant?”