Oops, do I need to go in and edit, or should I just let the glitches stand... yeah, let it go. How many people will ever read it anyway, besides you and me.

Sam, thanks for this! One month later, I finally get to read it! (It was our router! My husband had put in a filter to screen out spam, and it screened out Hive.) Sorry for the excess exclamation points.

When all is lost, she starts singing Amazing Grace. This detail! "I'm gonna die," and I fall back on this old church hymn ("that saved a wretch like me"). And this: She abandoned her

Epic! I love it! She dares to wonder if things could get any worse. NEVER, ever tempt fate with a "What next?" - you might get a Minotaur squatting over your boat, capsizing, and (no spoilers

Crunch Time. Yes. And here I stand at the pc, not planting more peas. Nor carrots. I even bought broccoli seeds yesterday (half price; no other incentive). As I don't even like broccoli, it stands to reason

This is so true of me when I try to paint anything (esp. cats on wood slices): if I start to tinker with it there is no "skillfull crafting" going on, they always get worse, muddied, contrived.

LOL I've never written a real "poem," but if it speaks to you, or sounds poetic to you, I'm not about to argue. :) I'll take your word for it. Thank you!

Pearl Jam! Nothing you would take, everything you gave Hold me 'til I die, meet you on the other side You give it a fresh spin.

Aw, I love it that you reply to my replies to old posts - so old, the poster HAS DIED!!!! And maybe I'll tease some more out of that story. Or maybe it will just add to the pile, like clam shells. The

Because, nothing can top this: Just Breathe and hold me till I die

LOVE IT - #ihatetags I hate tags I hate hashtags I love hash Not hashtags Pop! goes the hashtag...

Oh I love this! Where was I, 13 days ago, that I missed it.... This: one of them was dressed in camouflage and smelled strongly of pine trees. You always have us wondering, and guessing, and laughing!

Human ingenuity! How many ways to steal an egg - first, confine the chickens and convince them to keep laying eggs, day after day, with no thought of their little ones at their captor's dinner tables.

How did she do it...?? How did she feed so many, and in such a cozy, welcoming atmosphere? What a gift. Your mom was truly one of the saints. I have no doubt all these things can be said of you too!

Ohhh, this is dark, witty, diabolical, funny, and fun - did I mention DARK - What critics say about bold young playwright Sheila Callaghan is true of you: “Each moment in Roadkill Confidential is exquisitely

Not a hole, Not a void that he left behind, but a monolith, a single massive stone, a rock, within touching distance - within reach! - but no, don't touch it, don't even try, just breathe in and yes, go

Bruni's parents on their wedding day:

You make a good point. The dream of traveling by boat to a new world is often out of reach - or, it turns to a nightmare (we hear of so many immigrants drowning in unsound boats). A better future - for

Oh no. I had to go there. (Of course. I had to. I went there.)

Well, his mother married a handsome Italian. :) I may have pillaged a little: Anna Maria Bruni, 91, passed away on March 11, 2013. Born in Pisa, Italy, on April 14, 1921, Anna Maria in her younger years