Resistance

I thought this worked well with the Daily Post’s word prompt: Resist. I found this little “word sketch” after reading the word prompt and then doing a search on my computer for anything I might have on hand. This little “word sketch” is something I wrote (according to the file properties) in September, 2009. I wrote it as a character development exercise for a story I’m still working on. Resistance. I despise giving up. Yet, it is something I have been forced to do time and again. I want to be that brave go for it and hang on like a … Continue reading Resistance

It’s not This Time of Year (in the PNW) without…

Mushrooms and  um . . . Bigfoot! This is in response to the Daily Posts photo challenge: It’s Not This Time of Year Without…Show us the one thing without which your holiday season could never be complete. To me, this time of year would not be complete without spending time outdoors. Continue reading It’s not This Time of Year (in the PNW) without…

Creepy “What is It” Photo

First off, let me tell you that I hate looking at this picture. I’m posting something I cannot stand to look at. My daughter and her friend, myself and a retired Daredevil (stuntman) went hiking at a place that has haunted me since 1973, when I could swear I (and the boyfriend I was hiking with at the time) heard someone being murdered in the black wooded swamp not twelve feet from where we stood around midnight. Oh yes. People said at the time that what we heard was a cougar. Perhaps it was. However, after that night, two bodies … Continue reading Creepy “What is It” Photo

Hearing Verses Seeing

What you merely hear can elicit  a very wrong image inside your brain. I am one of those people who has a vivid imagination and what I hear someone say or sing produces images that once again, today, I learned, can prove to be something entirely different than what a speaker or writer intended. I was browsing bloggers who have responded to today’s Daily Prompt: elicit. One of the blogs I visited belongs to “deepspeakingup” who writes about Ringing in Wintery Love. Although her writing about food was good, what elicited a response within me was her photograph of the knights and the little girl. … Continue reading Hearing Verses Seeing

Legend of the Moss Woman

The Native American Indians of Olympic Peninsula did not like to go deep within the rain-forest valleys. There were many things roaming the dark woods, like Seatco (spelling is questionable but pronounced Sea-ahck-toe or something close to that,) who is known as Bigfoot in other places. Scary little people lived along river banks. They would throw sticks at the tribal members canoeing the waterways to get them to turn back, and these creatures were called Stick People.  Perhaps the Stick People were cousins to the Nan-a-push, the little people of the forest. There were Thunderbirds too—huge birds that could move massive boulders … Continue reading Legend of the Moss Woman

Mystery Cats and Cabin Nights

This story is an excerpt from my upcoming book of life stories titled Moonwalks and Unknowns featuring the Trespassers. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know. Set up: During this story my husband, eight-year-old son and myself live in an unfinished 12×16 two-story cabin on five acres of raw, forested land in the foothills of the mysterious Olympic Mountains within Washington State. We have no power, no running water and use a rough-shod outhouse, even during the worst weather. To shower, we either visit the State Park or John Wayne Marina. Life is not easy during this time.  Every afternoon … Continue reading Mystery Cats and Cabin Nights

When Storms Come

Fall and winter equate to Turbulent times, but not just this year. No. Throughout history. I spent a few hours this evening going through a box containing memories: photos, letters, cards, school work I saved not only done by my children, but the children we fostered and my siblings, too. Memories of those whom I love and have loved. I see happy times within the pictures and read warming thoughts within the letters and cards. But times change. People change. Many of those young fresh faces so full of promise drifted away when storms came. Their storms. My storms. Yet I see … Continue reading When Storms Come