If you have written a book, I have an autumn vacation so don’t despair. . . I’ll be ordering more books to read! This group is going to be read and one has had a review, so it will be re-read out loud to my sweet Mom. Lake Erie is my summer destination on the […]
Took this photo last fall at York City Park. Two adults and one young were reading printed books, no smart phone and no iPad. 🙂 Nancy’s A Photo a Week Challenge for this week is Three. ============================================================ Haven’t seen people reading newspapers like they used to. Some hotel still provide, but only a few copies at […]
Nap or read? It was the main decision I had to make while visiting my parents in Colorado. Poor me, right? Well, reading won out! Fortunately, my ipad was (is) crammed with books, and I had a pile to choose from. I’m happy to kick off a couple of reviews of fellow bloggers’ books. A Thousand […]
Retrace the heart out of the pollen dust layering the nylon string acoustic’s body now it has a shadow another version of the same heart on the same guitar pressed up against my bare chest it’s out of tune it’s been a while but the e isn’t it all lines up everywhere I’ve ever played […]
Yesterday I wrote a post about how people in the mainstream can misunderstand what bipolar is. But what is bipolar? The National Institute for Mental Health (NIMH) gives a nice clinical explanation here. But, how does that explanation translate to what those of us who have bipolar feel on a daily basis? How does it explain our daily […]
You’re my Micky to my Malorey I’m your Bonnie to your Clyde Jump in the car my love lets ride ride ride Going 100 miles an hour with you by my side Nothing can stop us now Take what we want Do or die Till the end Humor me my love Even if you lie […]
Sketch artist and writer Candace Rose Rardon tells the story of her search for home through the different teas she has discovered while traveling.
It occurs to me now that this story is wasted on the young. As a child, I found it overwrought. Then again, I was the kind of insufferable pedant who insisted on pointing out that I was ten and a half or turning thirteen next month. To me, the delta between just-turned-twelve and twelve-plus-eleven-months was […]
But as time eeks out its knowingness I no longer falter, for I find that I am myself (of course I am) and always was that self buried under a false persona. Stepping out from under it was like tearing off my shadow.
Maybe we tell ourselves we’re letting go So the fibres on the ropes burn a little less And maybe sometimes they do But the scars stay Always. © Hudson Biko Photograph: Stijn Swinnen Find Pieced By HB on: Facebook | Twitter