Author: Cecilia Mary Gunther
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in, out, off, on, gone
I reached California last night, safely encased in my travel bubble, booked into my cupboard sized relatively economically priced hotel room, pulled off all my winter gear, went back to the lobby and bought fruit, water and toothpaste, (always with the toothpaste) then lay down on my big crisp white perfectly made bed and slept…
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Of CoursE. IT SnowS.
More than the predicted three inches too. Tomorrow I catch a plane to California to get ready to catch a plane to Australia. Of course it snows. Just to give me The Fear. And it is forecast to snow a little tomorrow too so I seriously have The Fear. My bags are ready. (I fly…
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Chicken Dances
Rooster at the West Barn, enters Stage Left. Tough audience. Cattle Call auditions. I hate them. Though I believe this particular audition was called by the cattle. I knew a guy once, when I was running in such circles, who actually wrote his thesis on the Entrances and Exits of Shakespeare. It was a dry…
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A Creative Life.
It is true – we all have one. A Creative Life. I truly believe we are all artists. Whether in the arrangement of the pillows on our beds, or our book shelves, or the swinging copper pans, or a meal on a plate, or a garden, or a photograph, or the ring on an old…
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The.
This is the only word I have in my head. The. With a Full Stop. (In New Zealand that little dot is called a Full Stop. Here in America they call it a Period). Do you think that ‘The.’ means something? Or nothing. Or maybe it means the beginning – of nothing. All I have in…
The Kitchen's Garden 