Stories

100 Word True Nanny Story

“Throw that fork, and you’ll go to your room.”

Clink.

“To your room. Now!”

Jess crossed her arms over her seven year old chest and pouted.

“You can walk or be carried.”

Not a budge. Continue Reading…

A Year in Ventura 2003

I sit on our front porch gazing out over the burgeoning lawn of clover.  A few buttercup yellow flowers dance around the stone tortoise. In the distance, beyond the ramshackle cottages and telephone wires, the western hills of the river valley glow golden in the early morning light. The eastern hills remain in shadow. Safely nestled between these reclining dragons, I recount the year gone by.

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