Sunday, February 28, 2021
Saturday, February 27, 2021
Friday, February 26, 2021
Thursday, February 25, 2021
Wednesday, February 24, 2021
If you left a review under an alias of some sort (Buttercup? Is that you?) you should tell me so I add your name.
I hate being pushy like this but, by gosh and by golly, CROWS has far more reviews than any of my other six books. For which I thank you.
And if you haven't left a review, there's still time! Plus I have another mug to give away at a later date.
Tuesday, February 23, 2021
When I finished painting, I put on my tutu and had some phone calls. I called my friend Alexander.
Monday, February 22, 2021
Think of it as an early graphic novel, replete with action. . .
Sunday, February 21, 2021
since she watched the first green shoots break from the earth
And the bright blooms unfurl?
A handful of the precious bulbs she’d planted in the fall
when first they’d raised the little cabin--
A token of hope, of making a home. Putting her mark on the land
Here I am and here I mean to be.
She cut switches of forsythia – yellow bells, they called them – from a neighbor’s plantings,
Box wood, too, and rooted them all in the damp earth beside the spring.
And in a few years, heavy with her second child, she set out the little plants – making it pretty around the cabin.
Young uns made hidey holes beneath the boxwood and brought her fistfuls of the daffodils.
That multiplied and spread with every year – like her own family
Moved off, most of them.
But they still returned – sometimes in, spring, with the daffodils
and sometimes for Decoration Day – when the piney flowers lifted their gaudy heads.
Long gone, that woman, that cabin;
But her mark remains.