Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
The year I was five my grandfather left the house every day before dawn. My mom would pack his green cooler with food. He’d put on his boots, grab his yellow bag of tools, and then head out the door with his guide dog Bud and a cheery “Going to guard the castle.” Every day… Continue reading The Year I Was Five
“To find what you seek, unlock the castle doors. Precious beyond words. But only words will open the way.” “Open sesame!” “Abracadabra” “Shazam” No luck. Jane’s heart was trapped behind those doors and they’d made it a game. But she was good at games. Think! Hours passed. Then she remembered. Gandalf! Say friend and enter!… Continue reading Unlock Her Heart
i wax poetic ~ on mangy mutts and milkmen ~ musing on times past ~ When I was a kid, dogs freely roamed the neighborhood. No leashes or fences to keep them tethered. The whole world was their dog park! That sounds wonderful in a naïve nostalgic way. But, in reality, it meant they were… Continue reading Musings on Mangy Mutts & Milkmen
Tina Stewart Brakebill 