Marcia, Marcia, Marcia…I’ll be there for you!

I remember the last time I left my home, knowing that when I came back my room would be no longer “my” room, but the “guest” room. All due respect to my Mother, she had truly been very patient at my failures to launch from the nest. She understood the reasoning behind the need to…

Sometimes silence is anything but golden. ~ Kimberly

Sometimes I get writer’s block. It is more like writer’s stifle. There are days when I can fly through a story, and my fingers will not go fast enough to keep up with my brain’s narrative. Other nights when I lay in bed something has reminded me of something that gives way to falling into…