Archives for 2013

An Ode To My New Roof

Construction ClipartOh, my ducklings, it’s has been such a hectic couple of weeks here at the Palatial Horvath Estate! Many things hit all at once, but a goodly portion of my time has been consumed by the choosing of a contractor for, figuring out how to pay for, and surviving the installation of, my new roof. Let us hope it was necessary and really does solve the issues.  No, no!  I’m SURE it was necessary!

Anyway, since they say to write what you know, I proudly present my latest poem: An Ode To My New Roof. Yes, I expect the call telling me I’m the nation’s new poet laureate any day now.

Always Something In The Box


There’s an exercise that Patricia Ryan Madson describes in her wonderful book, Improv Wisdom. (Ms. Madson taught improvisational theater at Stanford to standing-room only classes for twenty years.)

Here’s the exercise: Imagine a box with a lid. Hold the box in your hand. Now open it. What’s inside?

It might be a frog, a silk scarf, a gold coin of Persia. But here’s the trick: no matter how many times you open the box, there is always something in it.

Ask me my religion. That’s it. I believe with unshakeable faith that there will always be something in the box.

Byron For Tuesday


The problem with having a snazzy holiday like Labor Day on a Monday is that all week long I forget what day it is.  So I completely forgot today was Tuesday and didn’t prepare a blog post.   Oh the horrors!  But never fear – Lord Byron is leaping to my rescue.  He’s like that.

Here, for your enjoyment, are three of my favorite poems by George Gordon, Lord Byron.  Because it amused me, I arranged them as if they were describing a love affair gone wrong.  Hey, Byron was a passionate dude – he’d get it.

Hands In The Dirt

hands in the dirtGentle readers, I promise you that I tried to plod through the drama of the past two weeks.  I did.  I DID!  But then…I got swept up in the whirlwind and found myself trapped under my house and my ruby slippers were stolen by this chick carrying a dog in a picnic basket…

Okay.  Maybe not.

Anyway, I lost my footing and slid down the hill into chaos and knew not how to find my way out of the mire.  Then, this Sunday, I thought to myself….”go weed.”  So I did.  When I came back inside, I felt more grounded (heh, grounded.  Get it?) and able to concentrate.


Computer ReadingBaby, I might not have a lot, but I’ve got me one good imagination.

For the most part, this stands me in good stead.  Imagination lets me inhabit the heads of different people in different places when I write, but there’s more to it than that.  Imagination is what lets you see beyond what’s there in front of you to what it could be.  It’s what let me look at a piece of jewelry and realize the clasp would make a perfect deadbolt for the door in my miniature room.   It lets me look at my mother’s garage and envision it as a studio apartment (although, thank God, that probably won’t have to happen).  It lets me look around my house and see it as it could be – see the Palatial Horvath Estate spread out before me.

Plodding Through A Perfect Storm

Auntie Em!We all go through periods in our lives that seem to be a perfect storm – a time when everything collides in mass of pure nastiness.

Just for an example…let’s say your muggle job is somewhat demanding, you have family responsibilities for your elderly mother, and you have some health and money issues.   Sure, there’s drama.  Lots of drama at work, drama on the homefront (especially when your mother’s cable box dies)…drama, drama everywhere.  But you’re doing okay…you’re handling it.

And Then…