My newsfeed is high af today. I have three stories about Barack Obama in my “Recommended” feed. Why? Why is Barry recommended for me?
What the fuck is going on here?
He’s not trending, is he? He couldn’t be, not after all these years.
He’s been out of office for how long now? Five years? Why is he news?
I mean, he wasn’t the greatest president. But he wasn’t the worst, either.
I don’t click on stories about Barack Obama. I don’t even comment on other writers’ stories about him.
What is happening??
I just don’t talk about presidents here…
I was born under a bloody wolf moon, in the dead of winter, in the year of the dragon. To say I was born under dominate stars is an understatement.
Tala means Stalking Wolf. It is my given name, but it was not given to me by my mother until I was in my fifth year.
I don’t know why it took so long to give me my name and I’m equally clueless why she called me Stalking Wolf.
Like most people, we retain precious few memories from when we were babies. In the tradition of my mother’s people, we…
I’m so over my Medium newsfeed. I counted seven out of the first ten articles this morning in my “Recommended For You” feed telling me what I should think about Medium. And then, five more after I refreshed.
Like I need one more “The Medium Writers Challenge is too challenging to be fair!” article in my newsfeed. Or “I’m not going to submit!” (but you and I both know they will) followed by “Well, maybe I’ll enter, but I just know I won’t win!” …
My husband is the (ex)Terminator of all the creepy-crawlies on our property. That includes all flora and fauna with intention of returning our manicured lawn to the Paleozoic Era.
All unwanted lifeforms die at the hand of Omega here in our little corner of the world.
He’s Johnny-on-it, weeds yanked and bugs sprayed, all summer long. But, and I say this with much love, if he doesn’t stop whacking down my flowers along with the weeds, I’m going to put the mower in drive and run him over. He needs whack-warning, stat.
Here in midsummer southwestern Ohio, my lovely little…
I started a new job last week so I got a new mousepad to celebrate. STFU, I can pretend I’ve never cursed before.
I’m in that fun time when you first start and you train, then have a meeting, then some more training, a couple more meetings, train a few hours more, then have a stupid new employee meeting when you have to stand up in front of the class during the Teams call and introduce yourself and tell everyone something interesting about yourself, and it takes a really long time, because I’m a really interesting chick, then more training…
“You … women don’t belong here. If you knew what was good for you, you’d go home, where you belong.”
Lois Jenson made her decision as she slammed her locker door. The nooses hanging over work stations, the sexual innuendoes, the leers, jeers, open threats, obscene language, exposure to hard-core pornography, clothes kept in their lockers marked with the filthy ejaculate of low-browed co-workers, all of it piled onto her narrow shoulders and she knew it had to end.
The final straw was the union siding with management and refusing to intervene after her supervisor maliciously assaulted her.
Clyde’s garage was off Cincinnati-Dayton Road in Bethany. I live in Blue Ash, so I traveled north to get to Clyde’s shop. I never mind the twenty minute drive. I cranked the blue tooth and listened to Zeppelin II. Music is life.
The scenery in southwestern Ohio in mid-June is gorgeous, on par with some of the most beautiful in the country. I drove over rolling countryside with a bright blue sky above me and a big yellow ball of fire warming the late spring day.
Clyde lives on a working farm, and he hides his garage within an old…
Be always grateful for them all
Friends come in all shapes, sizes, colors, ages, genders, and species, and if only we open our minds and hearts, we can find them everywhere.
A friend can lift you up, hold you down, turn you around, make you smile, make you cry, give you peace, give you support, shake you up, wake you up, comfort your soul, and hold your heart.
But most of all, a friend makes you recognize the good in yourself and in others around you.
A couple days ago, I checked in on three of my favorite writers and…
A friend asked me the other day if I’d like to be 25 again. I laughed. Um, hell no, I don’t want to be 25 again, you couldn’t pay me enough money in the world.
I would, however, like to look 25 again.
I want to live forever. Twenty-five was just the first bump in the road to greatness. I flew past that milestone and then jumped right into 40 as gracefully as a robin landing on the high line wire next to a squirrel.
Next was 50, and then 55, and now, 57, when my body fell apart. But…
Dear Trusted Friends and Readers,
In my younger days, before I was brave enough to publish my first word, Tala was there in my head, begging me to tell her story. At first she whispered to me, a curious hum in the back of my head, telling me of strong women, giving me a peek of bravery in the mundane, showing me the honor of trusting loyal friends.
In recent years, Tala has nagged, stabbed, scratched, pleaded, petitioned, poked, seduced, rattled, rocked, and screamed at me to bring her story to life.
So every morning, I pull back the curtain…