not-quite Journaling, 62
My autumns are wild
magic, uncanny
prose
and storms,
storms of dark
poetry.
11/21/2023: Chilly fall(ing) months are for delighting in hot coffee
and creepy bits by some of my favorite word weavers--Edgar Allan Poe, Shirley
Jackson, Stephen King, Poppy Z. Brite… And I just picked up “Monstrosity”, a
short story collection by Laura Diaz de Arce. I was seduced by the cover… 😏📚
11/28/2023: One of my radiation therapists traveled to the Dominican
Republic (the island of my birth) and brought me back an avocado the
size of my head. Fine, I might be exaggerating--I have an enormous skull--still,
the thing was huge. I planted the seed. And I’ve been harvesting (and
eating) the leaves--which happen to be yummy (and grow as ginormous as
the seed that sprouted them). Click HERE for photos of the growing process.
12/1/2023: If the sight of my cactus’s growing erections didn’t make
you chuckle or giggle a bit, then your sense of humor is a lot more grownup
than mine--which doesn’t say much, so stop gloating--my sense of humor has been
stuck at the hormonal teenage phase for a few decades.
When the universe told my kabocha squash soup that she could be whatever she wanted, she bloomed nuttily. 🤭
Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #106: Seasonal Readings.