Posted in 2026, Writing

My First Story

I was the first to read my story aloud in my writers’ guild session.

I was never one to do that, take the leap, stand in judgement first. I would do all I could to avoid the eye of the teacher, or anyone, just hoping someone else would go first and break the ice.

Something has changed within me (no, I’m not Glinda or Elphaba!) and I am no longer reluctant. I want to share what I have written, or share my thoughts. This was not the first time I offered to go first either. I was in a journaling class and the teacher asked if anyone wanted to read. People were silent, so I said I would.

What I find is, if I go, I don’t have to spend my time worrying as I wait to go! It just takes all the agony out of it and also makes others comfortable that someone else broke the ice.

My piece got good reviews, the class had good feelings about what I wrote. They did suggest more information on the home, and descriptive information. Someone said “show don’t tell”, which I can agree with but the limit was 500 words and I was already pushing 480 with what I had! I appreciate their thoughts and will work on that in my next piece.

Some of the stories were a family’s trip to watch their son graduated from Marine bootcamp, a scene from a screenplay being written, a fantasy dungeons and dragons type story, an article on creativity, and a poem that this young lady wrote on writers block that was amazing and she wrote it that afternoon!

It is an interesting program, just one evening a month, but it makes me think in terms of what I’m writing and have I provided enough to bring a reader into the story.

The following is my story from class. I would call it “historical fiction” as it’s the true story of my grandmother with imagination thrown in.

On that April morning in 1927, Antonia knew something was not quite right.  Five months pregnant with her 6th child, she knew how she was supposed to feel and this wasn’t it.

She lay in bed and her thoughts drifted back to the day she arrived in America 17 years ago.  She had just spent 9 days on a ship from Bremen Germany but didn’t give it a thought.  She was just so excited to see her sister Aniela, her brother-in-law Josef, and their four children.  The next part of her trip would be a train ride from New York to Springfield Massachusetts and then the local train to Palmer where Josef would be waiting for her at the station.  “Oj,” she thought, coming back to present day, “time enough for daydreaming later, I need to get ready for the day.”

Out of bed, she roused her husband and children.  Charles was still working this week at least. Ever since returning from France at the end of the war, he hadn’t been the same and she missed him.  He survived the trenches, but the head wound from a train accident on the way to the coast almost killed him.   The nasty scar was on the outside, but she wondered what happened to his brain on the inside.

After breakfast, Charles went off to work, and Steven, Helen, and Walter went off to school.  That left John, her 3-year-old home but the way she felt, she asked Eddie if he could stay home too.  At 12, Eddie was more than happy to stay home!  She went about her morning chores, while Eddie kept John occupied.

By early afternoon, the pain in her belly was increasing.  “Eddie! Run and get the midwife to come here.  Then head to the factory and get your father!”  Eddie jumped up and ran out the door.  “Come Johnny, let’s get you to bed for your nap”.  She nudged her son along to the bedroom and got him settled in bed and oh how she wanted to climb in next to him!

The midwife arrived, looked at her, and knew they needed to go to the hospital.  A few minutes later, Eddie and Charles arrived.  “We’re off to the hospital; She’ll be fine once we get a doctor to look at her.”  Antonia kissed her husband and son and reminded them that the other children would be home soon.  “Tell them I love them and I love you too.”  She could see the worry in their faces as she left.

Charles got the children fed and then headed to the hospital that evening.  Antonia was lying in bed, looking pale and tired.  “I’m ok, I’m ok!  Maybe I just need a little rest.”  Give my babies a kiss and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”  He gave her a kiss and left, not knowing it would be the last time he saw her.

What do you think? Did I draw you in to her story? If you’re interested in reading about my family, you can find it at It’s All About Family.

Posted in 2026, Writing

Writing

I wrote about being on time last month . It happened at the first meeting of a Writers Guild at our public library. So now I’ll tell you about the guild –

I was excited to see it listed in the newsletter events. There had been a similar program, but I never attended. Now it is back and I put it in my calendar as soon as I saw it.

It is being led by a woman who is a “cultural anthropologist”, writer, and writers workshop teacher. I like her style.

There were about 25 other people in the first session. 2 men and the rest women in the range of late 20s to early 70s by my estimation. All with some degree of writing experience.

I write regularly between here, my family stories, and my journal, but this program is a lot different.

After sharing names and our writing practices, we had a “muscle-building writing spring”. We had to write a motivational speech for a group of animals outside our house. My mind went right to the birds, squirrels and rabbits in my backyard and it was off to the races! It was fun to write something different.

We meet the last Wednesday of the month and our task for tomorrow was to write a very short piece, 500 words or less. A few people will read their stories and the rest of us will say how the piece affects them. No criticism.

I wrote my piece, almost 500 words, no surprise there, but this was tough to do. I knew I wanted to turn a story about my paternal grandmother into a story. I went at it from a few different angles, then picked one. I typed it up, printed it out, let it sit, and then made the edits. I’m hoping it doesn’t sound too smaltzy, and if given the chance, I will read it out loud. And maybe post it here!

Wish me luck!

Posted in 2026, Writing

On Time

My husband says “if you’re not five minutes early to an appointment, you’re late”. Mind you, he was talking about appointments with homeowners, not doctors’ appointments.

I try to live by that rule, but I’m not always successful especially when I’m getting ready to go somewhere – but it doesn’t impact the “somewhere”, only my husband who is waiting for me!

But if I’m going to a program or a class (even on Zoom), I’m going to be there and ready 15 minutes before it starts. Which leads me to last night.

Last night was the first night of a monthly program on writing. A Writers Guild. It was held in the past as I remember seeing the notices, it disappeared (covid?), and now has been resurrected. I’m very excited about it!

I arrived 10 minutes early and there were already about 10 people seated. I settled in, the teacher waited until 6:30, and then began talking about the group, introduced herself, and we began our introductions.

For the next 10 minutes, 5 or 6 people dribbled through the door. The last person walked through the door 20 minutes late.

I hope the annoyance didn’t show on my face while I was trying to pay attention! I will try and give grace to anyone arriving late next month. Perhaps they have a family or parents to take care of or a job they are clocking out of that prevents them from arriving with enough time to settle in before class.

Timeliness. How important is it to you? Does a particular situation make a difference? I’m all for 10 minutes early to class but I’ll be flying through the door of the doctor’s office on the dot because I know I’ll be waiting 15!

Posted in 2026, thoughts, Writing

Happy New Year!

I started the new year off right by waking up early, enjoying my coffee, and heading off to work out. I always feel a sense of accomplishment!

On and off over the years, my husband and I would head down to the state beach about 40 minutes away. We walk and search for sea glass. Today it’s cold – my watch says 23 degrees and it’s windy. We decided we can find plenty of things to do here at home!

Our hike to Sleeping Giant State Park last week

Tuesday we had planned an impromptu trip to New York (well, I did and he’s my willing sidekick). I knew it was going to be cold but I thought it would be okay. Until he told me he was going to wear his lined pants and I thought, “ya know what? This is crazy”. So I decided we weren’t going to go and I think he was happy about it! We’re going in February for a concert and an overnight stay and that will be here in no time.

New York Last year!

I’m taking down my decorations, even the tree. I would like to get over to our We-Shed (the second floor of our garage where we workout and I have my ancestry and knitting stuff, and other hobby stuff) and clean that up a little bit. Clean up my desk area and open some mail. It might sound a little routine, but I get satisfaction seeing stuff cleared out. We re-organized the basement the other day! Anywhere I’m organizing is my happy place.

Our tree on Christmas Eve

I’m working on being mindful, writing down what I did this day in my planner, otherwise everything is one big blur.

I’ve got some thoughts on posts in the new year, maybe revisit some old ones and see if anything has changed. I’m looking forward to sharing them with you!

Posted in 2025, Writing

Replay by Ken Grimwood

Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

I happened upon a book in the late 1980s named, Replay, by Ken Grimwood. It starts out with a middle age may having a heart attack at his desk. When he comes to, he’s 18 years old and in his college dorm room.

Think about that – being able to replay your life. What kind of changes would you make? Would you be kinder? Study harder? Take more changes? Or be less reckless?

As much as I would like to do all of the above, anything I did would change the trajectory of my life. If I don’t date that dolt again, it wouldn’t lead me to the love of my life because how would I know what I shouldn’t put up with? Or would I seek out the love of my life sooner, because I know where he is? But doesn’t he have to go through his own situations to work his way to me?

So I guess if I could replay my 20s with the knowledge of where I need to be at a particular date and time, I’d live them smarter both in brain power and common sense.

Posted in 2025, life, Writing

Rain Rain Go Away

This weekend in Connecticut is the SEVENTEENTH consecutive weekend with rain on one or both days. That means, since February we have had “weather” on the weekend. We may have had beautiful weather for 5 or 6 days and then, Boom!, the one day you have off or something planned for outdoors, it can’t be done.

Rainy morning

My husband tells me it was predicted and it’s just for the morning which is good because the Travelers Golf Championship final day is happening Cromwell today. It will be hot again after the rain, so hydrate!

Posted in 2025, family, Home, life, Writing

This Weather!

Here in Connecticut, it has rained at some point during 15 consecutive weekends. Maybe one day, maybe both days.

When we moved back here in 1995, me, the Connecticut native, told my husband, the California native to expect at least one day on a summer weekend to be rainy. I think I did pretty good with that assessment. Overall, this has been a Really Wet Year and it doesn’t look like much is changing.

Now that we are in “summer”, the humidity rises. And falls. And rises. I can handle it but my poor husband suffers from the Jekyll and Hyde atmospheric pressures. Vertigo, sinus conditions, headache – he’s had them all!

Do you have constantly changing weather where you live?

April Showers Bring May Flowers
Posted in Books, family, Home, life, Memories, thoughts, Writing

My Road to Motherhood

It wasn’t a smooth path. There were bumps, and potholes, and, what felt like, a mountain to climb.

But in the end, there he was.

“Motherhood is seeing your heart walking around outside your body and hoping the world is gentle with it” – Elizabeth Stone

I was not prepared for a boy. I thought “ugh, messy, muddy, eating everything in sight”. But he was not.

He was sweet, not messy/muddy, but still had a mind of his own. He would tell me how pretty I looked and ask, “is that a new dress?”

I’m now a mother of a 35 year old married man.

He is still sweet and thoughtful and I’m grateful to be his mother.

Posted in 2025, life, Memories, Music, thoughts, Writing

Ear Worms

I know that ear worms are usually associated with songs but I have an ear worm of a poem running through my head:

Summer breezes softly blow
Memories of long ago
Happy places
Smiling faces
Loving you

It is from SO long ago, and from a random place that I’m not sure it’s exact so maybe I’ve made some parts my own over the years.

I started enjoying poems when I was in my early teens. In our local newspaper was a weekly section of reader submitted poems. Being a love obsessed teen, the poems of that type were right up my alley! I was also in the early stages of typing so I would sit on the floor of my room with my aunt’s portable typewriter and type out the poems I liked. It was a great way to practice, progressing from “hunt and peck” to “not hunting but still pecking” to straight up “no look typing”.

I kept them all in a small book of sayings (about love, of course) that I hung onto for years, moving it with me in my “box of treasures” where ever we lived. Unfortunately, in the course of “simplifying”, the box with this book and some other items got thrown out with the rest. I feel a little heartbroken about it and feel like it’s going to magically appear one day!

Are your ear worms mostly music or do you have a favorite poem that pops into your head too?

Posted in 2025, Books, life, thoughts, Writing

Why Write?

Why Bother
Because right now
there is someone
Out there with
a wound in the exact shape
of your words
— Sean Thomas Dougherty 2018

I heard this poem this past week while attending an author talk by Monica Woods for our town’s “One Book, One Wallingford”. The participants in the program read her book “How To Read A Book”.

She recited this poem when discussing her journey in writing. She had a manuscript for her book “The One-In-A-Million Boy” which was rejected in 2008 (or so). She tossed it in a drawer and her husband kept encouraging her to send it to another publisher. She didn’t, but in the meantime wrote a memoir, “When we were the Kennedys” and a play! Her husband kept encouraging her to re-submit it. But next she wrote “How To Read A Book”. Then, she submitted the cast-away manuscript and it was published.

I have no plan to write a book but her story and the poem she recited really struck me because I alternate between writing, and wondering why I write. Who cares what I have to say or feel? Who am I to feel like anything I say matters?

Reading that poem encourages me to continue to write and hope that someone out there nods in agreement or at least pauses to contemplate my words.