Writer
I've written a little about my background with other dogs before mine, and then how Athena Brooke came to be at my side, so you may want to catch up before proceeding. When I met Athena If you do want to catch up,, here's that story: A Woman's Best Friends Athena only days old Today,... Continue Reading →
Wondering why I've decided to share so many poems lately? Well, tomorrow, March 21st IS World Poetry Day! Here's my next one, which actually was recorded first in this particular session. Screaming SecretsThe wronged shrieked from their fingertips, silenced no longer, Empowered by consent, Enraged from words not welcomed to... Continue Reading →
When my daughter and her husband bought me a DNA test for my birthday a few years ago, I was thrilled to confirm that I was almost as Irish as an old boyfriend had thought (he said I looked a lot like one of his relatives, still in Ireland). That gave me a little thrill,... Continue Reading →
In spite of the fact I was living with no running water and only the sparsely-available electricity of a small solar panel in a fifth-wheel I called ‘home’ with a husband as temporary as the broken-down RV, I applied to Southern New Hampshire University...
Since I had knowingly manipulated people using my sexuality and theirs, I also knew how to manipulate people into STOPPING their objectifying of my body. I made it one that less people would be attracted to. I made myself as UGLY as I possibly could.
For over half a century of my life, I had been sexually attractive to someone. I just wanted that part to stop. I just wanted someone to see the daughter of God that I was, and not a piece of meat to use.
As many people whose families are in danger from this virus isolate, signs go up on their doors but life goes on Behind the signs signifying caution people at risk sheltering in place here, there live people. Humans with lives they aren't quite willing to sacrifice to a capitalistic god called the Dow. People who... Continue Reading →
When I entered the family history center that stormy April afternoon, I had one thing on my mind; I had never seen a photo of my father’s father. I was 46 and I had never seen my grandfather’s face. I typed his name into the search bar on the site, Newspapers.com, “George R. Slighte,” the results came back instantly.
My grandma, who I simply called, "Grandma," but whom everyone else called by her middle name, "Ellen," was my confidant when I was a growing girl. It was with her that I saw my first music video on a late-night television show after Grandpa went to bed.
I hadn't spent much time with her in person....But we had spent time together....
