Archive | February 2017

Danny Confesses…

Danny is a sinner. Read all about it on TSRA’s wonderful site!

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

Good morning, gentle souls; I am Daniel J. Daniels, Dog Extraordinaire. Most of you will know me by my nom de plume, Danny the Dog. As another great writer (but not as good as me) once said, “A rose by any other name . . .”

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Today I have a smorgasbord of tales to tell. So sit back and relax. Put your feet up, light your favorite pipe, have a glass of wine, or dig into that box of chocolates that has been calling to you—for you are in for a rare treat. Today I am going to confess a few (just a few) of my sins. At least Andrew, my human, refers to them as sins. I say they are only idiosyncrasies. But I’ll let you kind, empathetic, thoughtful, and intelligent folks be the judge.

I think I’ll start off with the longest-running complaint Andrew has about me…

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This entry was posted on February 28, 2017. 3 Comments

Kelly

Happy to reblog and share this sweet story.

Andrew Joyce

kelly lllHowdy, the name’s Jim Bridger and I’ve got me a story to tell. It ain’t no shoot ‘em up western tale, though it does take place in the west. It ain’t no detective yarn, though something is found. And it sure as hell ain’t no love story, though a love blossoms. I reckon I best be gettin’ to it.

I rode the rodeo circuit all my life, started out as a snot-nosed kid handling stock. Then I was given a chance to break horses for the promoter I worked for. And I was pretty damn good at it. So I saved up the fee and entered myself in the bronco event when we set up in Salinas. I came in second and that was all she wrote. With the prize money, I bought myself a pickup truck and started to follow the circuit. I was never the best, but I…

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This entry was posted on February 26, 2017. 2 Comments

Good-Bye Miami

Andrew Joyce

lovers

For the first time in my life, I’m in love. And I think she feels the same about me. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we may have to break up … sort of. Shit happens. Allow me to explain.

Her name is Jill; we met early on a Sunday morning. I was jogging along the beach at the water’s edge one minute, and the next I was splayed out in the sand. I had tripped over a woman’s recumbent body.

After the requisite apologies, we started talking. One thing led to another and we ended up having lunch together. That was eight months ago and we’ve barely been out of each other’s sight since.

Today is another Sunday much like the one when Jill and I met, but things are a little different now.

I’m an FBI agent assigned to the Miami Field Office. I was…

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This entry was posted on February 24, 2017. 2 Comments

The Bee Talks With… Tina Frisco

Words of wisdom from Tina Frisco.

The Bee Writes...

tina-4aToday I am honoured to have Tina Frisco answering my pesky questions for writers :-). With no further ado over to Tina:

  1. How would you describe yourself in one paragraph?

I’m a heart-centered person. Some might see me as a bleeding heart, but I’m actually an empath. It took me many years to accept this and many more years to learn how to manage it. I’m still learning. Writing and music are my passion, and they inform my daily life. I walk in nature every day and have a spiritual practice that sustains me. I’m an optimist by nature and tend to seek the positive in everything – especially in challenges, as I see them as opportunities to grow. I’ll face them head on, because I’ve learned that what we choose not to look at is what controls our lives. I work hard at keeping my heart open to all…

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This entry was posted on February 22, 2017. 2 Comments

Wise Guy

Now firmly holding the position of my new favorite author. (Don’t say I’m just a cat….I’m a cat who writes, which means I can also read. Right? Right!)

Andrew Joyce

wise-guyHe was dead when I got there. Dead as a doornail, deader than a dead fish, deader than Kelsey’s nuts, dead as … well, I think you’ve figured out the message I’m trying to convey here. The son-of-a-bitch was fuckin’ dead!

The door of the hotel room had been ajar, so I entered without knocking. Someone had bashed his brains in. No, that’s not accurate. Someone had bashed his brains out! They were oozing from the wound and congealing on the floor where he lay. His name is not important but, for the record, I’ll tell you. When he was breathing, he was known as Vinnie “Five Fingers” Diamonte. Now that he was no longer breathing, you can call him anything you want, which would have been a dangerous thing to do when he was among us—the living. He wasn’t called “Five Fingers” for nothing. (I’ll leave it to your…

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When I Am Not Enough… Guest Post by Tina Frisco…

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

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Image courtesy of Lucie Stastkova

Throughout our lives, we hear ourselves say:  ‘I’m not that good!’  ‘I’ll never make it.’  ‘I wish I could write that well.’  ‘If only I had said. . .’

Words are powerful. Energy follows thought. The words we speak to ourselves drive our subconscious minds. Diminishing thoughts tell the subconscious we are not enough.

The subconscious mind is self-serving. Its mission is to fulfill our every desire, and it sets in motion the means by which to do so. It takes our words at face value and strives to manifest what they represent. It assumes that what we think and say is what we hope and dream.

How often have we heard ourselves utter, ‘Did I say that’? Unless we’re channeling spirit, the mouth speaks what the subconscious mind thinks. If thought rests in the conscious mind, we are aware of it and can choose whether or not to give it a…

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This entry was posted on February 18, 2017. 2 Comments

Picasso, My Grandmother, and Me

A thoughtful and inspirational post from one of the chosen few…those with that special gift of teaching children. Thanks, Jennie, for a lovely post, for sharing your Nan (who seems to have been an amazing woman!), and for sharing your knowledge with all your children!

A Teacher's Reflections

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My grandmother, Nan, has been my hero since I was a little girl.  I spent Sunday afternoons with her, and it was delightful.  No, it was more than that.  Nan filled me with stories, taffy pulls, and dressing-up.  She drove me and my sister in to Kresge’s, the five-and-dime, to spend a whole nickle on anything we wanted.  Sundays with Nan were the best.

Nan lived in an apartment.  When you entered, the first thing hanging on the wall was a Picasso, “Girl Before a Mirror”.  I remember thinking how funny the painting looked and having many conversations with Nan. While this became familiar to me in her apartment, so did other art.  Gilbert Gaul’s “Leaving Home” was my favorite, opening my eyes to art that tells a story with the scene and characters.  This painting was was about history and the Civil War.  I’ve been a history buff ever…

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This entry was posted on February 18, 2017. 2 Comments