by Molly Jo Realy @@MollyJoRealy
Ahh, winter. Wait. What? It’s only November. Okay. Ahh, autumn.
Sometimes here in the desert. But not too much. And not too often.
Still, there’s a lot to be said about living in SoCal when the season starts its thang.
“Such as?” you ask. Hey. Someone asked, or I wouldn’t be writing this post. Okay. You got me. It was me. Still, as I’m screaming to nobody in my car while driving Bear Valley Road (much to the attentions of other drivers, mind you), “What good is November in Southern California?! I mean, … read the rest. . .
The Bluecut Fire is a bad dream. This fire went from zero to over 18,000 acres in twelve hours. Twelve. Hours.
I’m not sure what I’m going to wake up to tomorrow. I’m not sure I want to go to bed tonight.
I’ve posted photos and updates on Facebook throughout the day. Here’s the collection.
The fire started around 10:30 am. I was at working, jamming out to Luke Bryant on the local country station and writing new policies for a client when my boss came into the main area. She was on her cell phone and changed the radio. … read the rest. . .
It’s almost 1 a.m. Sunday morning. Well, my watch tells me it’s only 9:45 pm, but I’m in North Carolina now, so it’s three hours later. Which makes it thisclose to sunrise. Ok, not really. There’s still an opportunity to catch some zzz’s but I just can’t go to sleep without sharing what the last 24 — okay, 36 — hours have been like.
Having been blessed with a scholarship and a share in the travel expense, I’m — wait for it. No, I can’t quite get my head around it yet. But yes, it’s true.
I’m at Blue Ridge! … read the rest. . .
Saturday was the monthly meeting of the California Writers Club, High Desert Branch. I’ve been a member for just under two years and have been, well, no other word suffices ~ I have been blessed.
To be surrounded with a group of like-minded people who “get” the why of writing, who quote and embellish and say “Wait!” as we write a note on anything including our own skin if there’s no paper around ~ these are the people I live with and for.
The critique groups, salons, meetings, and friendships are more than I ever anticipated being a part of. … read the rest. . .
When you think of California and Waves, I’m pretty sure the last thing that comes to mind is ice. But when Un-Son Number One gets his skates on, that’s all that matters.
You’ve often read about our Second Family. We do so much together. But there are some differences. I can’t get them to watch the Yankees unless there’s a bet, and they’re still working on over three years of teaching us about hockey.
I discovered something yesterday: if they had tried to teach me while at a live game, I would have learned much quicker. The tiny puck on … read the rest. . .