Pamela Wight's Blog, page 4

Scrabble Scrambler

Emily opened the door to the bar. She hadn’t been to Barney’s Pub in years. In fact, 30 years now that she thought about it.

God, she must be old.

But in her defense, she left the little town of Barneysville when she was 18. Couldn’t wait to explore the real world.

Yet, she returned a year ago, defeated and dismayed in the real world. Her parents were gone. Her brother moved cross country. By then, both she and her brother were divorced and childless.

I’m certainly a...

Baggage Magic

It all started with a gift.

Last year when we visited our son in CA, he was horrified that his dad, my guy, still refused to use a suitcase with wheels.

“Real men carry their bags,” my guy declared.

Undeterred, Sonny Boy gifted my guy with a suitcase. And not just any suitcase. A HUGE suitcase with wheels that turned any which way.

My guy hated the bag, but someone (wink wink) told him that he was being cranky.

My guy checked the bag’s measurements and compared th...

Coloring My World

Let it go

Feel the lightness of being

Be now not then

The wonder is here

Here is there and everywhere

Color your world

 

I’m walking toward a blogging break, coloring my world toward a creative revitalization. How do you color YOUR world? See you in March.

Honey, I’m Charmed!

I stumble backwards at the sight of Roger.

How on Earth can Roger – the Roger I’ve known and bantered with and talked to (in my head) for 46 years – be here? In flesh and blood and a smile that could light up a lonely midnight?  (See part1 https://roughwighting.net/2024/01/26/honey-im-home/#more-10186)

“Roger,” I stammer, stepping another foot backwards, “you can’t …”

“Of course I can,” he replies in the voice I’ve imagined since my college graduation. His head tilts. “Don’t ...

Honey, I’m Home!

The snow is falling like sleet. As I climb out of my mini-Cooper I grumble to the car “you’re cute in June, but you’re mighty ugly in January.” While waiting for my tiny turquoise car to reply, a huge icy snowflake falls on my cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” I mutter to the car.

I look around, hoping no neighbors notice my discourse. They all think I’m odd: Judy and John Allen next door to the right in the boring brown split level; Cliff and Cheryl Perkins, across the street ...

A Covenant Between the Pages

One of my friends, Esther, sends an e-mail to a group of us declaring, “Hello, Beautiful(s). Excuse me while I disappear!”

“What? Wait!” Judy demands in a return group e-mail. She’s the most assertive of my college friends who have stayed in touch through so many years. “Listen to the wisdom of the Silver Sisters. Us, your friends for years! Or use your own constructive thinking. You’ll feel better when the rain ends. Otherwise, there’s no coming back from this decision.”

As a foll...

Kinky Parking Karma

I never go to a mall during the holidays. I rarely go any other time either, but the month of December is decidedly off limits.

Except for today. It’s a few days after Christmas and I still haven’t bought “the” sweatshirt that my 15-year-old grandson wants.

It’s not a special sweatshirt.

It’s gray and loose, but on the side of one of the sleeves is etched C A R H A R T T in big vertical letters.

When Schuyler sent me the link three weeks ago that showed me the sweatshirt o...

Silly Suds

The day is dark, as in pitch black, and it’s only 5 p.m. I’ve had a full day – yoga and meditation at 6 a.m., 500 words for my short story by 8 a.m., dance class by 9, grocery shopping by 10:30. I baked cookies for the neighbor and prepared a casserole for dinner.

Now, I peer longingly at the claw-footed bathtub in my master bathroom and think – “yes, I deserve this.”

Be warned, my baths are not your average 15-minute-and-you’re-out-dried-and-dressed kind of bath. My baths are …....

In the Upstairs Hallway

I moved in with a man I’d known for 11 months with my two children, ages 2 and 4.

He was a confirmed bachelor.

I was a newly divorced, single mom vowing to never live with a man again.

And yet, here we were, in a new state across the country from where we met, starting a new life together, knowing no one.

And what was scariest of all was that three weeks after we moved in together, my new man’s best friend, Bob, decided to fly from the East Coast for a visit. I h...

Very Superstitious

When the mirror broke, Gwen figured she was a goner. Overdramatic, perhaps, but at 88 years old, Gwen knew her time would be up soon.

Strangely, even though her husband died ten years ago and her best friend seven years ago, Gwen was not ready to be released from this mortal coil.    

But then, the mirror broke. The damn movers moved too fast as she pointed out boxes that were fragile; they ignored her, an old woman who was sadly leaving her house of 32 years, downsizing to a small cot...