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My son Eric

It is Mothers Day weekend. As with the last 31 holidays since I became a mom, I have reveled in this holiday. I celebrate my own mother (more on that Sunday) and happily accept whatever accolades, surprises, and gifts my kids feel like sending my way. Usually this involves eating at a food court and seeing a guy-movie since I am a boy-mom and that’s what boys give their mothers.

This morning, I left the house to take a walk before I went to work. It was 5:30 in the a.m. and the sky was still sleepy-gray as I plugged my earphones into my phone and called up my podcasts. The first podcast on the playlist was a mother’s day gift from my youngest son, Eric.

Like me, he is a writer; unlike me he is an edgy, out-of-the-box writer. He is also the writer, produce, and brains behind the fiction/music podcast Howl Out Loud. Science fiction, fantasy and magical realism are his thing, pushing the envelope is what he does and he was in his element with his Mothers Day podcast, The Brood Queen. Continue Reading →

Dear Santa: A letter about letters

The other day I was cleaning out my office. Well, it isn’t so much an office as it is a ‘girl room’ in a house full of men. There is a desk, a sewing machine, the ironing board, wind-up toys, snapshots of people I love hanging from the shutters and cluttering every available countertop. There used to be an apricot colored sofa in that room, but it broke. I was very proud of that sofa because it was the only thing that wasn’t ‘boy beige’ in my whole house.

I digress.

I was cleaning out my office and came upon a box of letters. There were probably a hundred or so and soon I was surrounded by paper: pretty stationery, notebook pages and postcards. My oldest son arrived and lounged in the doorway since there was no more apricot colored sofa to sit on.

“What are those?” he asked Continue Reading →