And with that….

I’m off. To meet my best friend. She always believed in me. Still sees the beauty beyond the eyes.

Met so long ago, we have kept the hourglass turned. Found time to be there for each other. Through it all, Zefan, you will never quite know how much your care has brought me through. I am on my way. Tears are swelling.

Dams will break. You shall see. It is me. And you. In our thoughts we share this world.


manic depression

gimme crosstown traffic blues

going nowhere, fast

A friend invited me to share my life in b&w on Facebook. I actually had fun and when I get around to it, I would like to do this more. When I have time.

You? Have you ever looked at your life in a new way? (No one harmed. No license plates viewable. 🙈😁)

Six-word story #?

Set my self up for this.

(Lost track of how many “six-word stories” written and honestly too lazy to care. But there. They exist. Six words. Six.)

And really, i jotted them down so i could share Adele’s song “Chasing Pavements”. ☺️🌏🧡

By the way, six-word story or six word story?

Voices (syllables of the alphabet)


in the corner
eyes trap
shadowy substance
muffled moment
time ticks
paralyzed prisoner
of ever-recurring nightmare.


go back, rebuke them
never minding
banished barbs
spiders scramble
boycott books
and visceral voices
your mutters freeze the air.

(written 10/2016, never published before, and chose to empty my draft folder this morning. don’t make me regret it.)



Historic Fletcher Place Neighborhood, Indianapolis


It should have been me

We both knew it
you were the better one -blind
i couldn’t see the answers

You were long gone

Traveling with your etched smile
you told me you loved me
asked if i was all right.

It was you -not me

Both of us drowning and nothing
that day. Barely, time has passed
the road curves and you walk away.

Away. And i am forced to stay.

I am positive I would be successful if I were more organized. My life is a puzzle and I can’t find the missing pieces.

As a kid, mom and I emptied boxes of puzzles, scattered lives, across the sky. I diligently sat at the table, snatching minutes, stealing time.

We always started the puzzle, by putting the border together first. Boxed ourselves in, to get it right. I learned what follows a fence, keeps distraction out.

To be continued…

Going on vacation and numerous repercussions.

Santa Fe street art August 2017

Becoming an avid traveler, going places I once only dreamed of, and doing it alone, has taught me many valuable things about myself but one stands out larger than all the others: I do best as a creature of habit.  I am all out-of-sorts and finding it difficult to get back into a writing routine. What to do? Oh! what to do?   

Well, two new excursions are booked. Oh bother! This is one lesson not learned very well but the excitement of driving 1000 miles one way to see my daughter in Boston (Scituate MA) is, well, all worth it.  So I wait diligently for autumn colors and the wind in my hair!  

As for writing, perhaps a few days will warrant something of value. If not, I am cool with that just as long as the view before me keeps on changing.   Next up, U2 in Indianapolis.  

Desert dream, August 2017


I am saddened on this day of freedom.  Why?  For my sake?  Oh, in the least.  I have fond memories of days spent with my children, free in the meadow, looking underneath milkweed leaves to find the eggs of monarch caterpillars.  The egg being no larger than a period it took a dedicated mind to search.

“Did you notice that dot?” the gaiety of footsteps and boundless laughter ensued. “Oh, there is another one!”

listen the silence
child hear the story told
wrapped in sparkling gold

Yes we found many eggs.  They lived beyond the gestation period.  With each new morning they grew, having spent the previous day munching away.  Each caterpillar consumed at least one leaf, possibly more.  I could not keep track of their calories but soon they cocooned in a spring green blanket sewn with gold thread and slept while I tended to weeds, admired the blossoms, daydreamed to nature’s melody.

I wondered if they too heard the bird song, a lullaby of sorts until the crow cawed, signalling it time to wake from mere fantasy of flying, to dry their teary wings and soar.

Soar.  I find it hard to say that word.  I have not found a monarch egg for years.  I struggle with the thought of a vanishing monarch that once was queen of the meadows.  Is this her last period?  The end of her story?  It was a joyful time when my children and I raised monarchs in our backyard.  Not so much anymore.

I wrap you swiftly
my golden thread weaved through time
pray you rise today

Dear child of mine, should you read this and only shed tears I wish you sweet dreams all your years.  There was a time we soared, not so much anymore.  Peace.  J


“Stop the car!!!!”  I really did not say it that way.  I was much more polite. Here is how it really happened.

“Ooooh! look at that quaint gas station.” I wearing a smile from ear to ear.  Sitting in the back seat (daughter sat up front) I quickly recited a silent prayer he would pull over.  My husband, always so gracious, let off the gas peddle, bringing his hands slight left, asked “Want me to stop?”


A spur-of-the moment road trip ensued Saturday morning, 7-1-2017.  I packed my camera, a road map (really a GPS but that just sounds unromantic) water and strangely we were off.

It was the perfect way to spend a leisure day, driving along the back roads, where 1300 S intersects with 150 E, on Indiana Hwy 18, a place where life once happened.

May the sound of freedom be heard around the world!  Happy Fourth of July!