Monthly Archives: January 2014

Promises from the White Sarcophagus

When was it? How long ago? It seems like a lifetime. It’s January now, 2014. It was November, 2004, almost ten years ago. Why had I stopped at that particular strip mall, one of so many along that familiar road? … Continue reading

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I’ve never been, but the tea towel is lovely. Lady Alone Traveler stays closer to home in 2014.

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The State of the Bonide

Last night was the state of the wha wha wha wha on the Tee Vee.  It was probably on the radio, too, on En Pee Are and on some static-filled right-leaning AM stations.  It was quiet here last night, by … Continue reading

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In Tilbury Town

In just a few days I’ll celebrate my second anniversary of blog writing.  I enjoy the discipline, but lately I’ve been discouraged with my writing.  I wonder about my blog stats and if I’ll ever write “something else.”  Am I … Continue reading

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Someone Else’s Big Day

I’ll be going to a lot of birthday parties like this in 2014.  It’s calendar rearranging time. It’s going to be a long, exhausting year.  Calling all time management gurus…

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Romeo and Juliet’s Mummy

January thaw over, we’re back in an Arctic weather pattern here in New England.  Sub-zero and single digits are the norm, bringing lots of crying and counting of days until spring on social medial platforms. I try not to complain … Continue reading

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The Longest Year Ever

1972, the longest year ever, sort of.  Check it out. A good year for tea towels, I snagged this one at a yard sale in Hampton, still in the box. I’ve used it a bit since then, but you can … Continue reading

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The Bleak Hours

I swapped a few e-mails with Jaxon yesterday; he’s in jam where he lives.  He was the recipient of an outrageous “condominium assessment.”  Having lived in a condominium for almost fifteen years, I could understand his frustration.  My condominium owner’s … Continue reading

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Passive Voices

As a writer, I struggle with the “passive voice.” Recollect, a transitive verb means “action” between a subject and an object. “Clapton shot the sheriff.” Clapton is the subject, the sheriff is the object.  “Shot” is the “action.”  The sentence … Continue reading

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The White Wash

It rained this week; dirty and ugly all around…the ugliest time of the year. Then, voila! Fluffy, puffy, and pretty again!

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