Perhaps returning to my blog will create a higher level of commitment, some structure and purpose to my writing. So many ideas and so little time overwhelm me. The thing is, I have much more time than I am willing to admit. I waste it because I simply never know where to begin. I suffer …
Category: Memoir
Rubber Band
The smell of dust, body odor and overly sweet air freshener permeated the air within the stuffy cab. Cabs always made her want to bathe after even a short ride. The driver watched the road. He didn’t speak. His disinterest in the passenger precluded him from noticing her profound sadness that brought her close but …
Brigadoon
My little cabin makes me think of Brigadoon, a place where time stands still. Every hundred years the portal of time opens up and you can stay, frozen in an idyllic time and place, or you can go and live in the world where nothing slows down. I’ve got a strong feeling the time is …
On Being Frail and Mowing Grass
March 4, 2012—I started the mower and mowed the grass today. I am empowered. To mow the grass may not sound like much but it is. For me it is a physical and social triumph. I grew up with older brothers. They mowed the lawn, not me. When I was married to a rancher, I …
Fraudulent Activity
“I don’t know how to act anyway, so why am I doing this?” Meryl Streep This is a cold, wet Sunday morning in the hill country. As I lingered in bed reading, I came across a new term. While I tend to steer clear and roll my eyes about anything with the word “syndrome,” this …
Today’s Gift
Eighty something degrees and sunshine. Today I walked. Living all alone on I-don’t-know how many acres of ranch, I can walk for a long time. I see no one. I see no cars. I can hear the traffic in the far off distance but only because I live on a hill. I am the only …
Regina M. Allen 