They gave me a gold star.
I have been keeping up with this 543-day writing challenge, journey, or whatever you want to call it for 185 days! Today, let’s call it a trek.
Although I do this in the memory of my late husband, I am writing for my boys to read one day. They do already, but them having a book of their mom’s zany ideas and some fun memoires we all share would be a cool thing, a treasure.
Continue reading “Some Memories for the Boys. Day 186.”
“Where’s Sammy?” I asked Roger.
“He’s in the garden,” he said, nonchalantly.
There he was, not quite two years-old, wearing a Luv’s diaper, bright yellow rain boots, and a little Coppertone. His hair was cartoon blonde and his skin was summer brown. His cheeks were puffed out tight and his eyes were smiling at me, filled with mischief.
Continue reading “Seeds. Day 157.”
Revision in writing is what offers color to a piece, no matter the genre. I am forever editing and revising old works, and today have decided to paint a poem I wrote for a chapbook I put together a year ago, and the color I used is grape.
Teresa Forester Adams 