Baby Dolls – Diary Entry

I had a little baby doll once.  Her name was Baby Doll.  She was born about 1958.  I still believed in Santa Claus.  She was delivered on a Christmas morning with a dent in her box.  My dad told me that Rudolph had accidentally stepped on her box.  That made me feel like she was truly special :)  I bragged about her all up and down the block.  That Rudolph had actually stepped on my baby doll’s box.  I never once considered her damaged in any way.  She was just special.  I told her all of my secrets.   When I grew up and moved away, my mom kept her.  And my sister’s doll.  We both had the same kind.  Eventually, as adults, my sister asked for her doll and I kept asking my mother to keep her for me.  I hadn’t found the most perfect place for her.  My mother kept her in the same bassinet she’d used for all five of us kids.  A little white wicker thing that had a little white wicker rocking chair along side of it.  My  mother always dressed my dolly in clothes I’d actually worn as a baby.  Lost my dolly to Katrina.  Searched since then for another and –

Last week, I found her!  Please join me in welcoming:

ruthie5Gigi Ruth!  The lighting is horrible but she’s totally beautiful.  I’ve named her after my husband’s mother – who’d be over  100 today.

She must be the most perfect baby doll I’ve ever seen!  Sooo realistic looking.  I’m amazed.    I hope I’ll be able to take pictures in better lighting soon but….this is her perfect self!

And here too!   ruthie6How do they do that these days?  Make the dolls look so real?  Plus she feels real – soft skin, etc – and is weighted like a real baby.  I’m thinking to take her grocery shopping with me this week end.  Hahaha!


By Candle’s Light – A Love Poem

By Candle’s Light

I wave to you
so sexy
at the BBQ
beer in hand
your handmade flashlight
at the ever ready
in the early darkness
of this longed for Autumn.

I slip away
from who I want to be
but still
you love me
and catch me when I fall.

Sometimes the candle wax hardens
then melts
like when you wave to me
waving to you
from the balcony.


Like A Bougainvillea Vine – Fiction

This is a piece written for Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers   Thanks to PJ   for hosting our challenge and to Graham Lawrence for our photo prompt.  Please click on the lil froggy, after this piece, for a link to other stories.

gardenLike A Bougainvillea Vine

Our little Kate.  She was just so beautiful.  So innocent.  Most days, when I’m painting in the courtyard, I’m thinking about her.  Those bright sparkly questioning blue eyes.  How did I ever let her escape?  I’m often trying to answer that question or change it somehow.

“Wait right here, sweetie, while Mommy gets Brother out the car.”  I squeezed her little hand.

I cooed to her baby brother.  Sweet little nothings.  Smooching my lips against his velvety skin.  He cooed and gurgled back.

When I turned around, she was gone.  I ran all around like a mad woman.  Holding the baby.  Screaming.  “Kate!  Kate!”

My mind’s memory heard her laughing and saying, “Here I am, Mommy.  I was hiding from you.”  I could see her little pixie smile.

We’ve never found her.  The way life goes on, sometimes it’s as though she only ever existed to her daddy and me.


The Softness of Kudzu – Fiction

This piece is submitted for Friday Fictioneers.  Thanks to David Stweart for our photo prompt and to Rochelle  for hosting this weekly photo challenge.  Please click on the lil froggy – at the end of this piece – for other stories.

david-stewart2The Softness of Kudzu

There’s just a rusting iron fence remaining. The grand antebellum house is gone. Kudzu vine covers its foundation.  I drove here today because Mother is dying and, when this was a home for single mothers, she’d taken us to live here.

Daddy was in hospital, then, being treated for some mysterious illness Mother’s family had whispered about – as though a curse had come true.

Sister Agnes greeted us and showed us to our room. It was a small room with four cots. “Thank you, Sister,” Mother said.

I remember, just outside the French doors was a balcony and banana trees and Heaven’s sky.


This is a photograph of Kudzu vine:

Losing Day – Fiction

Here’s a short piece submitted for Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers’ weekly photo prompt.  If you’d like to submit a piece,  click on that link for more info.  Thanks to PJ for hosting this and also for providing our photo prompt this week.

If you’d like to read more stories, click on the froggy icon after this piece.

**Thanks to several comments, this piece has been edited to show that  the horses were set loose.

cowboyLosing Day

“Get in the car! Get in the car!” Daddy shouted.

“But Daddy,” I sobbed. I was trying to gather the things Mamma was hollering about. The fire had sprung up so quickly and moved so fast that we were all taken over with shock.

I wanted to grab my yearbook for that year. Under his picture, Buck had written: “To my one only from yours.” I wanted that yearbook as much as I wanted anything.

“Get in the car!” Daddy shouted. He grabbed Mamma’s arm and Mamma grabbed mine.

“Oh my god!  Oh saints preserve us!” Mamma wailed. “Pray with me, Sissy,” she pleaded to me. “Hail Mary full of grace.”

Daddy weaved the old station wagon in and out of fallen electrical wires and low flames. “Keep praying, honey, ” he begged.

“What about the horses, Daddy?”

“I set them loose.”  He shook his head and looked in the rear view mirror.  Mamma gently touched his arm.

One of the last things Mamma grabbed was Daddy’s cowboy hat. All else was lost.


This week’s photo prompt is provided by Scott, author of the blog, Scott’s Place -original painting by Scott’s brother.

My Novel Finally Has An Outline!

I’m so excited.  After challenging myself for over a year, by writing 100 word flash fiction stories and wishing I could write more words than that and form those words into some coherent whole (even a sloppily coherent first draft would do),  I finally have an outline for my novel.  I will be content if I can write enough short stories that can be woven into some sort of whole.

Anyways, I have an outline for about 8 chapters.  That would roughly end up to be  10,000 words. Ack!  I guess that’s a novel’s worth of words.

I’m researching like crazy.  It’s not a historical fiction work but I want to get a feel for the guiding spirits of the three characters.  I think three characters will be more interesting than two.

I may put a few sketches on my blog.  That would depend on if a flash fiction challenge fit into the weave of things.

So I’m excited.  I don’t want to say too much about the work.  I want to live in that world privately – like I do when I’m writing poetry.  I did want to share my joy, though.

I woke up today feeling better, physically and emotionally, than I have in about three months.  I felt rested – as though I’d slept for a long time.  Surprised to see I’d only slept for about 8 hours.  Something inside me has clicked off  the rote button.  Sometimes, I wish I could hack that button.

I guess that’s it in a nutshell.