Song Without End #amwriting

Thank you to Rochelle for providing Friday Fictioneers!


PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


Song Without End

He’s gone again. Continue reading


Music Monday–I Lost My Driving Wheel


Music Monday is a meme started by Drew @ The Tattooed Book Geek. Pick a song you really like and share it.

It’s officially 2 for 1 Monday this lovely (okay, dreary) April 16! Continue reading

The Score

Written in response to the black and white challenge offer by Charli Mills’ @ Carrot Ranch.


The Score

Until I was eighteen, I was Dad’s favorite. By focusing on my music, becoming the best mandolinist in the three states, I pursued Dad’s ambition, which had been squelched by pragmatic parents. Continue reading

#Weekend Coffee Share aka Poor Poor Pitiful Me (and it ain’t because of the boys)

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Click on the picture to visit Part Time Monster


Just to switch things up from last week, I am actually having a cup of coffee as I write Continue reading

New To Me Song


So a couple of weeks ago I ranted about the Train song that seemed gratingly ubiquitous. I will continue to offer up replacement songs that I hear. I heard this one twice on the radio this week (I’m a station flipper; I don’t do it with the tv, but I do flip over commercials or inane DJ chatter). I really like the sound of it. Something different in a cookie cutter world. Portugal. The Man “Feel It Still.”

A Good Natured Grumping

I don’t like to rant. There are enough people ranting, so I don’t provide that service here, except under extreme conditions.

I certainly don’t rant about music because my world would be very, very dark without music. I do love some of almost all kinds of music that I hear and no, I’m not just saying that. If you look at the music I share with you, you know that to be true.

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I Fall Behind


I Fall Behind

I’m wearing my blonde wig, red cowboy boots, denim mini and a tight v-neck red top.

I never have much to set up, just an amplifier and the microphone’s already in place, but I do like to have my guitar plugged in and it’s then that I see him: Callum Johnson, sitting at a front table, his blue jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him, while he draws from a long-neck bottle of some standard American beer. Still no microbrew for Cal.

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Never Give Up #amwriting

You don’t know me, but you probably know women like me. Years ago we would have been called wallflowers and then a few years later painfully shy. These days we may fly under the flag of introvert, but ever since I saw these bubbly blondes on a morning news show call themselves “introverts” I’ve had to reconsider the appellation because those women and me are not the same at all. I could never get in front of a camera with a live audience  while also knowing that morning viewers were tuning in to watch me. The only way you might get me to do something like that is if I wasn’t me at all, which is exactly why several nights a week, I am not me.

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