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Archive for the ‘children’ Category


Someone advised me to network with other authors. I was going to offer my services for something I’m really good at. Then this morning I realized I can’t remember what I’m really good at. I think I’m getting an early case of my Mother’s forgetfulness.

She use to run around the house saying, “Where are my glasses? Where are my glasses?”

Someone would invariably say, “They’re on your head.”

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What does this picture have to do with my post?

 Nothing, but it’s my blog and I can post it if I want to.

I need to write something funny, but I’m not feeling inspired. I think maybe my blood sugar is too even since I eat mostly vegetables now. I’m missing the sugar highs, I think I was much funnier then. Or maybe I’m missing alcohol, the drinking kind not the rubbing kind.

Someone told me that I could get more traffic on my blog if I wrote about trending topics, but I don’t know how I can fit World War III, polar bears, Earth and border patrol all into the same post. The Earth will be engulfed in World War III if the polar bears aren’t stopped by the border patrol. That was totally spontaneous.

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219

Simon says stand on your left leg.

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168

Has she put out the bird seed yet?

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swimmin boy fish kid

I was with my sister and nephew on a beach in Spain. It wasn’t a nudist beach, but apparently sometimes stuff just happens.

My nephew had just come to tell me, “Jesus walked on that water. I vomited in it.” Though geographically challenged, he was still cute.

On the blanket next to us, a guy and girl somewhere between 18 and stupid decided to have an all out wrestling match tongue included. I decided we should probably leave before my nephew caught on.

But my timing was a little off, because he was suddenly filled with righteous indignation saying, “You’re not allowed to fight with girls. They’re not as tough as us.”

As heads began turning, I grabbed his hand and started towards his mom and the car.

But my nephew wasn’t done yet. He loudly spewed some of his mother, saying, “You’re in  trouble. Wait until your father gets home.” Not quite finished, he yelled over his shoulder. “Give her her shirt back. You are in so much trouble young man.”

When I found my sister, his mother my parting words were – “Here that’s your.” Before I left her with my nephew.

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218

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202 (1)

Is this what they call a Lunch and Learn?

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115 (3)

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kitten birds

You bait them in and I’ll handle the rest!

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When I was a kid, I had an idea that all worlds were a combination of science and magic. My idea was that magical teams were dispatched to worlds where the magic was out of balance. Only family members could combine and magnify each other’s magic, so these SWAT teams would be composed of people from the same family.

I waited for a mystical vortex to open and a stranger to explain, “You are in the wrong world we need to take you to the magical realm where you belong.” However, much to my great disappointment, it never happened so I still reside in this world almost devoid of magical energy. This is based on the same idea when the Liza and her sisters got their first assignment.

The tapestry shimmered before Liza, a brilliant orange and red with a shimmer of royal blue. It was taking the shape of an egg, more accurately an egg-shaped box. Five more stitches to go.

Her fingers moved slowly, pulling at the threads of magick around her. Liza tore through the tangle of fibers she had gathered, pulling a bright crimson thread. She eased it free, careful not to snap it.

Magick appeared differently to different people. To her it was threads to be woven into a tapestry. She was a spell weaver after all.

She began to weave.

One. Two. Three. Almost there.

She would use the magick to gather spare matter and transform it into another form.

A box lined with crystaline.  Jerl needed one to keep his newly acquired dragon egg. Her younger cousin was an animage. His powers were uncanny. In fact, their abilities were all unusually powerful.

Four, one more stitch.

Some said it was in their blood. She thought most people said that out of sympathy, knowing their family history. She had always thought it was the shared trauma of the Midsummer’s day. None of them had escaped unscathed. A few of them wore their scars on the outside. All on the inside, more easily hidden, but perhaps more troubling.

Five and the knot.

The door slammed against the wall. Aelese rushed in, waving a parchment above her head.

“It’s here.” She gulped, gasping for air as she collided with a chair.

The carefully woven tapestry, hours of work, collapsed into a pile of sparks slowly extinguishing like the last coals in the ashes of a dying fire.

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