Writer. Photographer. Child of God
Ahhhhhhhh…pedicures…where to begin? How about a cold winters day with a good friend? Tara: You know what? We need some ME time. Do you like pedicures? Me: Sure Tara: Want to go next week? Me: Sure Now I wasn’t lying, I DO like pedicures. I usually splurge and go once or twice a year during... Continue Reading →
I am one of many people on the East Coast of the United States that is longing for winter to be over. I’m not going to say I have it as bad as most, if I lived in Boston I’d need to be institutionalized, but it’s cold and unpleasant. I miss Spring, the warmth of... Continue Reading →
I used to hate snow. I used to hate it a lot. Yet this year I've been watching the weather forecast with eagerness. This week my weather app threatened snow again and again with no real results. Friday night I'm curled up beside my husband, listening to him read "Fellowship of the Rings" aloud to... Continue Reading →
A while back, I wrote up a post entitled What Good is a Roll Without Butter? about my dear brother-in-law Jonathan and how we composed a poem over the course of two days via text message. Another while back, my husband, brother-in-law, and I were out on a jaunt in the little ol' white Honda, and composed... Continue Reading →
Vocals by me and guitar by my dear husband Timothy. "What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!" ~Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas
“Oh and I bought canned whipped cream,” my mother-in-law said. “So if you want some on your pie it’s in the kitchen.” Several happy chirps rang out from the inhabitants of the table. I kept my peace. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth and that nasty spray can whipped cream is more sugar... Continue Reading →
It was about 2 a.m. That’s my standard wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night time. I usually have to pee and spend about twenty minutes trying to ignore the urge so I can get back to sleep. It obviously doesn't work and I end up getting up. I hung my feet over the side until they reached the carpet and... Continue Reading →
My mother’s despaired moan came from the backseat. “They forgot the butter for my roll.” “No?” my grandmother gasped in horror. “Yes!” She dropped it back into the paper bag from which it came. “What good is a roll without butter?” she mumbled. I was driving. There was a lovely lilting rhythm to my mother’s... Continue Reading →
Rachel Svendsen 