Spring will come again, people say. Yet I am heartsick. Nothing will happen when spring comes; That child will not come again. Nakahara Chuuya, “Spring Will Come Again” Note: the poem was written after the death of Chuuya’s first son, Fumiya, in November 1936
From a loving mother to her MVP. I miss you, baby. Dedicated to Michael Vincent Pugh, November 21, 2012-September 25, 2019. He is dead and gone lady. He is dead and gone. At his head a grass green turf. At his heels a stone --- William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 5 Before sunset, they … Continue reading Before, After, Before
For the first time in probably a year, I bought a physical book - a real paperback. I purchased the book at a real bookstore, which I haven't been to in even longer. My more recent real-book purchases have been at displays at grocery stores and Walmart. I missed physical books terribly. They feel solid … Continue reading A Meeting with an Old Friend
My son Michael is a special boy in more ways than one. He's sharp as a tack and has ingenuity coming out of his pores--especially when it comes to finding a way around rules and obstacles (especially those we set up to protect him or the house). He's also one of many children who require … Continue reading When “Participation Trophies” Matter
My guest blog is posting to Night Owl Romance on May 17th.
“Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower or a whiff of smoke can bring up experiences long forgotten.” – Rupert Giles, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer: I Robot... You Jane” Sometimes, I miss my maternal grandparents' house in Chicagoland as much as I miss my grandparents. My Grandma Mary … Continue reading The Spot
Come see my author interview on Smashwords.com. Thank you to Smashwords for the opportunity to reach out to others. https://www.smashwords.com/interview/lepugh
What a strange way to start a blog.