Posted in 2026, Writing

Adjusting To a New Life

Tell us about your morning routine.

Nancy had spent her last 26 years living at home with her parents and two sisters. That all changed when her mother got sick and passed away suddenly. Just as quickly, and maybe orchestrated by her mother, three weeks later she met and fell in love with a man who lived across the country. The whirlwind romance had her packing boxes and moving across the country five months later!

Now was the start of a morning routine with another person practically a stranger!

Mark woke up at 5:30 and sat watching CNN news with a cup of coffee. Not yet a coffee drinker, Nancy was up at 6 to take a shower and have some breakfast. Mark wasn’t a breakfast eater so he hopped in the shower while Nancy stared out the window trying to figure out the weather. The morning sky in the Bay Area was much different than the morning sky in Connecticut! Was it going to rain? No, no, that’s fog. Get dressed and off to work.

39 years later, Mark and Nancy wake with the 5:40 alarm, coffee for one, and the tv for news and sports. The pace is slower and how to dress is less stressful because the Connecticut sky usually leaves no question about the weather.

Posted in 2026, Writing

Writing

Why do my best thoughts and ideas come to me while I’m in the shower or brushing my teeth?

According to my friend, Chatty, it’s because my conscious gets out of the way and my “what do I need to accomplish” brain clicks into free-association mode.

But when I sit down to write what I was thinking about, it doesn’t sound as good on the screen as it did in my head.

He, Chatty, my ChatGPT in case you didn’t catch that the first time, says because writing makes me judge my idea too soon. Oh that’s me, Judgy McJudge! We’ve chatted long enough now that he has a good handle on me, at least to me anyway. Something I find interesting is he says my natural thinking voice may actually better than my written voice. I agonize over most words and sentences. “Did I catch what I’m trying to say? Or is it convoluted?”

I’ll keep working on putting those thoughts into words!

Posted in 2026, Writing

Torn

Today, Wednesday, is my day off. Sometimes I plan things and other times I just let it ride.

I’ve had a few books to return to the library so I decided today was the day to do it. Along with that, I came up with my next story for my family blog, It’s All About Family, so I want to do some research.

Only problem, it’s a beautiful day! The temperature is just right whether in the sun or shade. You can think of days like that right? I went to the post office, bank, and the town hall to drop off my utility payment and all I could think about was how nice the sun felt.

For now, I’m sitting amid the 940s section of the library to see what I can find. I’ll stay here an hour or so, until lunchtime, and then head back home.

At least I don’t have any windows around me!

Posted in 2026, Writing

Visualization Meditation

Every morning I meditate for 10 minutes using my Peloton. A few months ago, they started a program in which you do the same class for 7 days. A variety of instructors and a variety of types of meditation. This week, with Anna Greenberg is self-visualization, and I am really enjoying it more than any of the other types.

My mind immediately heads outside to our garden and an arbor that my husband recently built between four raised planting beds.

It’s the perfect spot to spread a blanket and hide away for someone my size. Outside, but not exposed. Cozy, but not cramped. I can lean against a planter and read a book, or lay down on the blanket and look out at the sky. If my husband is working in the garden, he’s nearby, but doing his own thing.

It reminds me of the Cinderella song by Rodgers and Hammerstein, “in my own little corner in my own little world, I can be who ever I want to be”.

The arbor and my husband working on his roses

Do you have a place you go, either real or in your mind to get away?

Posted in 2026, Writing

In My Skin

What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?

I will admit to hanging onto things for a very long time, but today the oldest thing I’m wearing today is my skin. HAHA! It is sixty-six years old and although it has seen better days, a little worn and out of shape from the day I received it, it is serving me well.

Right after I wrote that, I realized I am wearing my mother’s initial ring on my pinky finger. It has her initials EP on it.

I don’t know how old she was when she received it, but if I were to say she got it as a high school graduation gift, that would make it 86 years old.

Her ring is the oldest thing I’m wearing today. After my skin 😉

Gram, Uncle Lester, Janice, mom holding me and my twin (I don’t know who is who! 1963-ish)
Posted in 2026, Writing

The Family Stories

What is the legacy you want to leave behind?

Legacy: anything handed down from the past.

I became my family’s historian in the early 2000s while sitting with my aunt and the family portraits, listening to her stories of the people in them. They were her legacy to me.

The Posluszny Family abt. 1908

For the past 25 years, I’ve collected information, discovered new family members and brought my ancestors to life. I discovered facts that may never have been uncovered without DNA and research.

I created a blog and have written about their lives, loves and losses, accomplishments and failures for ten years.

One hundred and thirty posts on people, places, occupations, and stories collected from when they were alive to share them with me.

This will be my legacy, sharing the voices of the past with future generations.

Posted in 2026, Writing

Validation

If you saw my story from yesterday (probably not, I can’t seem to get any traction here LOL), I talked about whether I should go to an event with a medium last night because I was recovering from bronchitis and have this icky cough. My husband said “No”, but my Tea Party chairperson, a former infectious disease person, said, “go, you’re not contagious”, so off I went loaded with cough drops and water.

The woman is pretty popular here in New England and aside from John Edwards in the mid-90s in a ballroom space in Providence, Rhode Island, I’d never been to a group type medium event like this. This one had about 40 people. I went with an open mind, more for the experience because I have my own one on one medium connection. I took a seat that had a good view of the whole room so I wouldn’t have to turn around at all.

She explained her process and away she went. She immediately headed in my direction but stopped next to me where two sisters were sitting and she went on for a while, never moving in my direction.

After moving to a side table, she focused on the table in front of me with 10 people who had come together in small groups, and that went on for awhile.

I recognized some things she threw out, but other people were so quick to jump on them that I really didn’t feel like being that person to continually raise my hand. Just here for the experience remember?

And then I received the message that was for me and me alone. She was in the front of the room and she said, “Rocky”.

I raised my hand and said, “That’s my husband’s nickname.” She looked at me as asked “are you writing a book? I’m being shown you as a writer.” I responded, “I write stories about my ancestors and family.” She moved on from that but it was all I needed. Who was it? I don’t know, but the validation that they know I’m writing to share their stories was enough for me.

The Posluszny Family early 1908
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!