Monday Musings

Today I am thinking about seeds. As a gardener, vegetables begin as simple seeds. As an author, writing ideas begin as kernels and either blossom into successful work or fail to grow into a completed piece. In both instances, one must have the foresight to recognize what is within the seed. Just as a gardener plans her plot, an author sees not only the night sky but a vision beyond. [above poem published on Cold Moon Journal 5/26/23] But for either, the hard work must be done. The gardener tills the soil and plants the seeds, waters, and weeds. An author must be ever alert for inspiration, jot thoughts in an omnipresent pocket notebook, and sit for hours and days on end, writing on paper or inputting line after line in a word processing program. This summer has been incredibly hot and dry. Despite nurture and watering, some plants have failed to thrive, other hardier specimens are prolific producers. Despite buzzing bees, neither my zucchini nor squash have fruited. As an author, I mus

Hello Readers! The last two weeks have been hectic with travel preparations, unexpected emergency vet visits (I wrote the previous blog in the vet parking lot; fortunately, the pups are now OK), and the actual trip. We had a wonderful visit with family in Omaha, but as always, it’s good to be back home. We were blessed to have a family member, Doug, stay at our home to care for our dogs, Plato and Paris. Especially since they recently had a long weekend at the kennel. We enjoyed time with our son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters. The girls are ten and twelve and growing up fast. One morning we attended an Ethiopian Coffee Ceremony with an informative server. She flame-roasted fresh beans, ground them, and steeped them in a traditional clay Ethiopian pot.  She poured the coffee into small cups over sprigs of rue (note the herbs floating in the cups) and served the drink with raw brown sugar. We each received three pours, every pour was a bit different in flavor than the previous.  L