Pamela Wight's Blog, page 8

You’re Not Going to Believe This

In Section II, Fun Family Drama

No, you may not believe that I – a writer, an author, a consummate reader – rarely (as in hardly ever) read the reviews of my books. How gauche. How extremely weird. Or, you may say, how cowardly.

But when I wrote Flashes of Life (my latest, now a little over a year old) it was nearest and dearest to my writing heart because it’s …. memoir. Fortunately for my readers, it’s flash memoir, which means you can sit outside on the front porch in your rocking cha...

The Early Appointment

[image error]Stefan Keller from Pixabay

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It Shouldn’t Work That Way

Remember how I told you I didn’t want to live with you? I needed my own space, my own home before I made one with you.

I meant it.

But you didn’t believe me. Or, you believed me, but you needed me to make a home with you. To create a space together.

Crazy, I thought. I was recovering from a divorce as shocking as it was disappointing. My high school boyfriend, who became a completely-in-love-with-me college boyfriend, then a fiancé, then my husband for three years before...

A Donut Vacation

I remember the trip to the mountain more than the mountain itself. 

Once a year, my brother and I are awakened at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. We stumble in the back seat of the 4-door Pontiac with pillows and blanket and sleep off and on for the next two and a half hours. But I only doze. The excitement of what is ahead is too stimulating for sleep.

And yes, finally! My dad, driver of our annual camp-in-the-mountains adventure, stops at a place we never go any other day of the yea...

What do YOU think?

Has it been a month already? A month since the unthinkable happened? A month since my life, and yours, and his, and hers, and all of ours, changed irrevocably. A month since the sky opened and the inconceivable occurred, but truly, it wasn’t improbable.

People have been forecasting this for years, decades, centuries. The only surprising thing is how long it took.

A month ago, we were happy to be clueless and unaware. How naïve of us. How stupid when you come right down to it. Back then...

The Keeper

Georgie met the perfect man.

Well, of course, he couldn’t be perfect. He was a man: stubborn, moody at times, and he insisted on balancing his checkbook on Friday evenings.

But still. Travis was kind, thoughtful, nice-looking, and for some reason, he almost automatically fell in love with Georgie.

So it only took three weeks, instead of her usual two months, to consider sleeping with him. But Travis gave her a strange warning: “I’ve been told I make funny noises when I sle...

The Rewards of a Simple Life

We are quite inconvenienced by a bird.

And we’re learning to let her have her way with us. 

A year ago, I bought a new front-door wreath to celebrate spring. It’s full of twigs and fake spring flowers and moss. When I hung it, within hours every time I opened the door a bird flew off, nearly taking the top of my head (or at least my hair).

Twice that happened and I knew enough to take the wreath down. Sure, our alcove and the wreath are great protection for small birds during a st...

Trap Door Ignition

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Can it be? It can’t be. (Click title for first part, Trapped…?)

I release the hook to the trap door and let it slam hard on the fingers of the person who’d been knocking below my feet on the secret door.

“Ow!” the deep voice growled. “Karen, open the door!”

I stand on the half of the oriental rug that is folded near the newly found trap door. All those years of living in this house, first as a child and then returning over a year ago after my mom passe...

Trapped….?

For days I’d heard the soft knocking that I couldn’t place. Had Rocky returned? Last year I named the large woodpecker that pecked on my living room window, “Rocky.” I finally googled what to do about birds who nearly kill themselves knocking on windows, and I closed the curtain for two months until the light changed the reflection. I haven’t seen Rocky since.

But still. Knock Knock. Knock. A light tapping. 

One day I ask my neighbor Bill to check it out, and he rattles every door...

Alarming

Who turns on their alarm during vacation? That was my cranky question as my guy began to set his phone alarm for a 6:00 a.m. wake up call.

“Sunrise is at 7:07,” he reminds me. So I accede. We’re vacationing at a spot where the sun rises with insistence in bold sherbet colors above the ocean. We have vowed to ooh and ahh at the sun’s wake-up majesty every morning we’re there.

That said, it’s been a long travel day, and I suggest we give ourselves one ‘sleep-in’ morning – maybe eve...