Tag Archives: Postcards

Hazel and Lavonne

     It’s all about accidents and chance.  Did you ever run across some rediscovered artist online: some songwriter ignored in her own day whose friends preserved her manuscripts and recordings or author whose stories and poems were published in cheap, quickly discarded magazines?  Years later, someone comes along and says “Hey, look at this!” andContinue reading “Hazel and Lavonne”

Obstacle Course Love

     With the onset of spring (inch of snow last Friday) we have been discussing postcard representations of romance.  It is important to remember, however, that the course of true love runs never smooth.  This is, in fact, the basis of a LOT of postcards, not to mention books, poems, plays, movies, soap operas, andContinue reading “Obstacle Course Love”

Beating About The Bushes

     A fantasy artist once submitted an amazing illustration showing a skull-headed demon glaring hungrily at the viewer from in front of a complex and twisted grove of obviously cursed trees.  The editor loved the drawing, but said “You’re not fooling me, you know.  You just wanted to draw those interesting trees and added theContinue reading “Beating About The Bushes”

Madnesses of the Month

     Well, here it is spring and, ignoring a few random blizzards to kill the sprouting tulips, we are prepared for spring pursuits: basketball tournaments, baseball games, and, of course, what we are told our hearts turn lightly to even though we know very well we’ve been pondering it all winter.  So I thought we’dContinue reading “Madnesses of the Month”

Talk the Talk, Crawl the Crawl

     Once upon a time, I lived in a town which had a large number of residents who claimed Irish heritage.  But a vocal minority was of Bohemian ancestry, with the result that at this time of year, the greeting card racks were evenly divided between green cards for those who wanted to send aContinue reading “Talk the Talk, Crawl the Crawl”

FICTION FRIDAY: The Matter of the Bloodstained Bagpipes

            “Well. Lieutenant?”             “The story checks out, sir.    That was definitely William D. Orcutt walking into the bar and not coming out again.” “Three weeks after he was murdered.  A week after his burial.  And how was he dressed?”             “Just like the rest, sir, down to the dirk and sporran.”             “That’s eightContinue reading “FICTION FRIDAY: The Matter of the Bloodstained Bagpipes”