photo by The Reclining Gentleman

photo by The Reclining Gentleman

It was raining the night we brought her home. Heavy downpours emerged from the slow and steady drizzle.   She slept soundly in the back seat, even though I ached to hold her in my arms.  Her face was calm and innocent;  a clean slate ready for a new story.  

The ride was short, just a few miles, but it seemed like an eternity.  When we arrived home, others were there to greet her and hold her and fuss over her.  I couldn’t wait for everyone to leave, so we could have her all to ourselves.  Sweet baby girl.

Word count: 98

This story commemorates the birth of my first child on September 25, 1972.

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Can’t Wait

friday ff

Jennifer Pendergast photo

Word count: 100

“It’s not funny anymore,” she pleaded. “I am seriously in pain.”

Michael grinned at his friend in the back of the canoe.  Practical jokes made him feel in control, powerful.  Besides, no one would get hurt.  He was always sure his jokes would cause no bodily harm.

” Please. Please. Please. I cannot hold it any longer.  You are a mean-hearted person.  When this is over, I never want to see you again.”

Michael just grinned and guided the canoe in the opposite direction of where she wanted to go.

“Michael!  For God’s sake, row the boat ashore!” 

More flash fiction here:  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/


photo credit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

photo credit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Joanna was bored.  Stuck inside a third floor efficiency, she longed to be outside where the air was fresh and crisp.  Inside, Grandfather smoked his pipe, Grandmother slept upright in her chair, and with her nose glued to the grimy window, Joanna sighed.

Even if she could get outside, the neighborhood was all asphalt and brick, automobiles and trucks, train whistles and interstate highway buzzing. It was not much better than being cooped up indoors with stale air and old people.

So Joanna retreated to her tiny bedroom, covered her face with her mom’s old hanky, and dreamed.


Thanks for Rochelle for hosting another week of Friday Fictioneers.   Read more and check out her page here:


The Hike

Never so weary, never so in woe,
Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers;
I can no further crawl, no further go;
My legs can keep no pace with my desires. – A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream

We were all ready for our first hike of the trip, or so we thought.  We had our layers on, our camelbak packs with water, sturdy shoes, bug spray and  granola snacks packed away.  Jenny Lake has several trails of varying difficulties.  I started out with my trusty walking sticks and my much younger family members.  It was a gorgeous hike, and a beautiful lake with the Grand Tetons in the background.

Yellowstone Trip 2015 036

Connor and Alexa at Jenny Lake.

I immediately fell behind the rest of the group, which didn’t surprise me.  I went as far as I could, taking pictures along the way, resting when needed. When the trail began to ascend, I was struggling and when I caught up with my family, I decided to return to the Visitor Center and wait for them to finish the trail.  It was a good call.  They returned about an hour later after completing the loop and assured me that my decision had been a good one.

“You would have never made it Grandma!”  laughed Alexa.

There was plenty to keep me busy at the Visitor’s Center; great displays to learn more about the mountains and a gift shop to pick up a few souvenirs.  And a bench for weary hikers to relax and rest for awhile.

You can't really take a bad picture out here.

You can’t really take a bad picture out here.

Yellowstone Trip 2015 304

Upper Geyser Basin

Lower Falls at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone

Lower Falls at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone

There were many more hikes during the next two weeks.  I completed the Upper Geyser Basin trail  at Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park, at Colter Bay, and at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone to view the Lower Falls.  It really was a midsummer’s dream come true.

Late Summer Corn

A field of corn on the east side of my home blocks my view.  The world is on the other side; out of sight and out of mind. Voices and sounds of cars and trucks are muffled. The unusual quietness surrounding the farm makes me feel safe, secure, and secluded.

This year, the corn crop struggled to get to this height…it was a wet season with frequent flooding, which left the corn yellow and pale and resembling a roller coaster frame spreading across the field.   The tall green stalks are starting to even out now; the tassels glow at dusk with a rusty hue as the breeze gently shakes loose the pollen.


Corn is mysterious and magical; the way it sprouts from the ground and grows overnight.  The sweet smell of the leaves and the ears, especially after a rain shower on a hot summer afternoon.  When I am gone from home for a few days, it is the first thing I notice when I step out of my car…. sweet smells of growth and greenery.

Watching the corn stalks mature is fascinating.   The tassels sprinkle the pollen onto the silk of the ears, each silky strand creating a kernel as the ears lengthen and swell; a process that makes a simple plant almost spiritual.   This part of the growing season is my favorite.  It gives way to the final maturing of the crop when the stalks turn brown, the kernels grow and harden, and the seclusion is lost.  As the gentle breeze stirs the crunchy leaves and creates new sounds of rustling and cracking, it creates a bit of uneasiness like someone sneaking up behind you.

The Fall

hyde-hall-light ff

photo prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-FIelds.

The throbbing continued and echoed through her ears.  She slowly opened her eyes.  Everything was out of focus. Directly above was a huge…. spider?  bird?

A light fixture.  She felt the cold marble against her bare legs and began to shiver. A warm fluid-like pillow surrounded her head soaking into her hair.

Soft whispery cries were coming from somewhere.

Baby Amelia!  Her thoughts began to collect as she slowly turned her head and saw her daughter on the floor nearby, kicking her legs and waving her arms.

A sense of relief filled her body and the blackness covered her face.



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Doing the Best I Can

Like most mothers. I continually doubt every decision I have ever made for my children.  Should I have done this?   What if I had decided this?  I wish I would have….

My children are all grown and I now have grandchildren.  One of those is almost grown.  So why this feeling of insecurity?  Is it normal?  Are there moms out there somewhere that know they have made the right decisions every time?

I doubt it.  We are moms, which is a monumental task and we are human so we make mistakes.  As a working mom, while my kids were growing up, I felt guilty all the time.  I was too busy, I couldn’t be a room mother because I was at work, I got frustrated when they wouldn’t go to sleep because I still had so much to do.

Despite my successes and failures as a mom, my three children have turned into respectful and responsible adults. They are doing well with their own children and with their partners.  I am so proud of each of them.

Wishing all mothers a guilt-free, stress-free day full of love.