*This was co-written with my husband, Stephen. He deserves the primary credit including the overall concept.* The +P approach to preparedness is a holistic approach to preparation through self-development. Self-Improvement Self-improvement in the +P philosophy is no different than in... Continue Reading →
The scene could only be described as a swarm of people. Midge studied the swarm that seemed to be circling something in the center of its mass. She noticed a figure emerging from the mass. It was a tall, beautiful woman standing at the center of the storm of people.
I told a friend once that I value honesty above all else. I was, after all, in my twenties at the time and reveling in my own perfection. Without hesitation, my friend promptly told me that everyone lies.
Weston lay in the floor gasping for breath. A dark figure stood over him swinging a piece of paper back and forth while saying something that Weston couldn't quite make out. Blood trickled down the side of Weston's face. A head injury? Probably. Weston recalled stuffing the lab report in his pocket then putting on his coat ready to leave the lab. After that, there was nothing.
Something caught his eye. It was one of Marshall's doodles. He would draw pictures of bugs on lab reports, a practice that neither the boss or Weston liked. This picture was nearly identical to the Cicada that hung in the shadowbox. It was spread across the left margin and looked to be painstakingly drawn down to the pin stuck through the middle of the dead Cicada. Under Marshall's artwork were the words, "Call Midge!"
Lately, bread has been on my mind. After all, most households have a loaf or even loaves of white bread, wheat bread, whole grain bread or some other type of bread for sandwiches or sides. My family keeps a stock of bread most of the time. The government agency that oversees children's dietary health in schools requires my daughter's school to put "wheat bread" on the list of required lunch items for the children. So, our dedication to bread expands further than the home front.
Feet planted firmly on a rock, I was standing in the middle of gently flowing creek in my grandmother’s back yard. Click title to read more.