Showing posts from April, 2017

Singing to Myself

Deep in our hearts, deep in our hearts, deep in our hearts are we unkind?
Deep in our hearts, deep in our hearts, does love really thrive?
I wonder where you are tonight. I love you all the time. And know that you can always have all that's mine.

Never once, never once have I ever thought
This of you, you don't need me or I don't need you.

Passing the Word

“Come on in.  You might as well come on out in the kitchen with me.  I'm readying up a few things out there.  I'm sorry my husband isn't here right now but he should be back soon.  He had to go over with the rest of the family to help make arrangements for the funeral.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?  Black?  We have some cream if you would like some.  Neighbors have brought in quite a few things.  Would you like a piece of cake?  We'll never be able to eat all these things that were brought in.  We've froze some.  The pink one?  Yes I think that one looks good too.

“No, no you don't need to help me.  Lord, if it comes to the day that I can't cut a piece of cake for a  guest I'll be in sad sorry shape.

“Yes it was rather sudden that she died.  It was a brain aneurysm at the base of the brain.  I guess the doctor said it could have been inherited. She was only thirty-one.

“Just two days ago I was watching her work her horse.  I was thinking then what a…


He came to me in the middle of the night. He came to take my life. Gasoline he held in his hand. Methamphetamine.
Sleep a vague illusion. Fear kept me alert. My dogs killed by him. I sat alone in the dark.
The smell came first. Nine, one, one. I swung my club, I swung my club.

Just a Bowl of Corn

Tears blurred my vision. I fought my emotions inside, my cheeks, the little muscles under my eyes. I would not cry.
A light seemed to illuminate the golden bowl of corn topped with butter melting on it now, sprinkled with bits of salt and pepper, I could see, that completed it's beauty.
My stomach growled. I hadn't ate in so long.
I trembled as I raised the spoon to my lips. Sweat broke out on my face. Saliva filled my mouth in anticipation, my stomach growled again. Nothing had ever tasted as delicious to my starving tongue.
Now tears flowed freely down my cheeks.

It was just a bowl of corn.

The Conversation

My mom and I had just come back from visiting my sister. We were sitting outside talking before going inside. The dashboard lights were green. The moonlight on the snow was blue. “I may not have accomplished all I wanted in this life, but I think I've been a good Mom.” I thought of when I'd run away from home when I was fifteen. I remembered the beatings, the arguments, the resentment I had felt toward her. I thought of the one dress she had in her closet and one dress to wear that she had kept for years. I thought of how she had normally gone barefoot to save money on shoes. I remembered her struggles to raise and feed us kids by herself after my dad had died. She had kept the family together, not drank, didn't do drugs, tried her best to give us a future. I turned to her and said, “Yes, you were a good Mom.”

The Backdoor

I heard the backdoor opening slowly. It's old hinges creaking. A heavy stillness lay over the rest of the house. I lay in my bed waiting to see what developed. My heart beat faster, a catch in my breath. Let's see my gun was on the nightstand, a club lay on my dresser, if I needed it I had a weapon in every room of the house. The floor boards gave forth little, tiny, groans adjusting to the weight of someone travelling across them. My eyes strained to see in the darkness. A shape filled the doorway, “You awake, Hun?”
My husband had come home.

The Laughter

The lights in the elevator were yellow. The lights in the hall had been white. The lights in my mother's room had been dim. Then she was gone. The people riding the elevator down with me were talking and laughing. I wondered how in the world that any one could ever laugh when my mother had just died. I turned my head to hide the tears I couldn't stop. Still the laughter continued on and on seemingly never ending. I pulled the gun from my purse. It was so easy to stop the laughter then. Now the light in the elevator was red. I stumbled from the elevator into the night that was black.

The Challenge

The man sat down and prayed, “Dear God, please be kind to me in my writing endeavor.”
The next morning the man sat down to write. The words flowed as though God's hand had truly touched him. The man could almost see a glow coming from the pages of the book. Hours passed without the man moving anything other than his fingers and his eyes as he wrote on and on. Evening hours came. The man had not eaten or drank all day long. Still he wrote. During all of this, God happened to look down and see what was happening. This was not his work! Quickly accessing the Ley lines surrounding the man he saw this was the work of a powerful demon called Driven. This demon happened to overhear the man's prayer that morning. So God sent down a fly. He told the fly to tickle the man's nose. Over and over the fly tickled the man's nose until the man leaped from his chair in frustration. God chuckled to himself, “Even my flies are more powerful than you Driven.”

One Time I Heard...

There was a young man who leaned back against the broad trunk of a tree that was standing on the top of a river bank. He crossed his arms behind his head, crossed an ankle across a knee and chewed on the piece of willow he had found. The shadows moved back and forth making hypnotic patterns and soon he fell asleep. While he was sleeping an army of ants, in their fine suits of clothing, came marching through in formation. Their leader called the column to a halt. Dogs could be heard barking in the distance. “Look there,” he said, “a sandwich on the ground. We must take it back to the Queen!” Organizing his troops, they soon had the sandwich lifted over there heads and were gone. The young man after finishing his nap woke feeling hungry. Searching hard as he could, he never found his sandwich.
Moral of story is: Eat your sandwich before taking a nap outside. :)
by Reta West


A little, tiny, brown box was stored underneath my cabinet. No one would normally see it there. Not even if they were a rabbit.
Then one day a tiny mouse discovered the little box. By nosing, nosing, nosing he discovered the unclosing. And disappeared inside once the top was sprung.
From deep within the little box, A tiny voice was heard, Ohhhhh, it's so pretty!

And the box closed forever more.

Let's be Friends


The Hunted

The fog came. It slipped in on gossamer wings. A fog rising slowly from the ground. I could see the mist thickening and swirling a short distance from me in the forest. I could feel the life around me. I hoped the fog would hide me for a bit. I could hear the hunters coming through the woods just like they had the time before. Last time, I had sprung from my hiding place. Bounding 6 feet at a time, right, left, BANG. I was dead. Now, this time, I strolled casually from my place of rest, raising my twelve point antlers high. These hunters could no longer harm me. I strolled casually into their camp. I couldn't help laughing to myself as the hunters ran away screaming, after they tried to shoot me and the bullets just went on through.
Perhaps, it wasn't so bad being dead after all.

Sunday is the day that saves me

It is the day that I give myself permission to do absolutely nothing. I don't need to do housework, cook, work or anything. Oh, if I have another day off that, of course, is for all the work that needs done at home. The other five days are for working to support myself. But Sunday, oh Sunday is the day I don't need to feel guilty. I can watch TV or YouTube. I can cheat on my quitting smoking habit, I can write in my journal, I can dance in the trees. Whatever I please, I can do on Sunday. And out of this wonderful world of things I can do, what do I choose?
My computer.

Dreaming of this thing actually working.

Once again I am testing this feed.  So sorry for any inconvenience.

5 things not to do when Grieving

When grieving over the recent loss of a loved one, you should not:

Listen to old recordings of their voice over and over.Keep their old possessions lying around.Fight over what they have left behind.Try to forget them.Isolate.

This is a test of my RSS feed.


Your picture looks more fun than mine.

When I was five and my sister was seven. I looked over at the unicorn my sister was coloring in her coloring book. I wanted to paint the unicorn too. I looked at my book. I only had a picture of a barn. “Can I trade coloring books?” I said. “No,” my sister said. I reached across our desk and started scribbling all over her page. If I couldn’t do it then she couldn’t either. My sister started crying. Mom came in the room. “What’s going on here?” “She scribbled my picture,” my sister said while pointing at me. Wham, wham, wham my mother spanked my bottom with her broom she had been holding. She then returned to the kitchen to finish sweeping the floor. This made me really angry. I refused to cry. I marched into the kitchen and told my mom, “I’d like to see you do that again!” My mother promptly showed me her ‘broom against the behind’ technique again. I returned into my sister. “Well,” she said. “I got a hot ass now,” I said.


Oh wearisome days, Some days are better than others, Long wearisome days, At times will haunt me. Leave my past behind, Try to touch the sky. No more wearisome days, For me.

I wonder if there are light bulbs in heaven.

Five things I would not expect to be in heaven.
Toliet Paper - I’m not really sure we would need toliet paper.Broken Glass – Somehow I just can’t envision Heaven having broken glass lying around.Dead animals lying around.The DevilMy ex-husband.

In the light of the moon

The next life calls to me. I dream of what I will become. Will I live as pure energy, Part of the greater whole? Or will I live as a new form, Maybe a rock, a snail or mole. I’m not done with this life yet. But I try to learn what I can. So in the next life, If I’m good, perhaps, I’ll not have to learn the same lessons, Again.

Watching the neighbors

I leaned back to look at the moon. The moon is full. It’s blue light lights up the sky. The wind blows hard. Clouds move swiftly across the moon. My senses reach out listening to the sounds of the night. I hear a motor running by the street. I sneak through my house to see who was out there, with the motor running and their lights off. Being careful not to be heard, I slip outside the door. I stand in the dark watching the car. It moves down the street, maybe seventy-five feet then stops again, in the dark, where no street lights are on. I hear a car door slam. Is it my neighbor or his drug traffic sneaking up to his house?
I need to move.

Poke The Penguin

If that does not work:

Poke the Penguin

Dear God, I am listening...

I am listening. I am listening to the sound of your voice on the wind. I am listening to the beat of your heart through the trees. I am listening to your thoughts as they pour through my mind.

Thank you God. :)

Tell a short story in under 500 words

Hey I had fun with this at a meeting from

Try writing a complete scene or little story in 500 words or under.  :)

Critiques can be done in the comment section. :)

I will post mine in the first comment.

Oh wait I have to post it now. lol

Snake Scene from The Dandelion Warrior
“I am a Warrior!.  From the Pa'iin Tribe of Little People!  The last remaining member of the Dandelion Clan.  Be careful of my dandelion!  I'm not afraid to use it!

I crack myself up! Hee, hee, hee.

I shook my dandelion at all my pretend enemies.

The sun popped over the top of the shed that separated me from the view of anyone passing on the street. I covered my eyes and looked down.  My dandelion’s shadow stood beside mine in sharp relief against the ground.  We were the same height.

If they miss me in the kitchens, I can always say that I forgot it was my turn to help clean up after breakfast.

The day felt hot.  I could feel sweat starting at the roots of my hair.  A sound of slit…

Six word Life Story

Okay, Okay, Okay, I am blatantly stealing this idea. :)  But it looks to me as though many sites have done this.

Aaaaand, it looks like a lot of fun.

What would be your six word life story?

As an opener I thought:

I am more fun than Google.

Please leave your idea in the comment section. :)

Thoughts by Reta West

Crumpled bits and pieces of haste,
Neatly wrapped in the cheesecloth of self-justification,
How often I’ve looked back in distaste,
At the excuses, frustrations, and all round exemplifications,
That doesn’t apply to me at all.

Journeying Toward a Writer's Platform

I sit in this house and wish I was outside but I need to finish my writing, but I’m not doing any writing.  Not even in this journal.
No what I am doing is working myself to death trying to set up a writer’s platform.

I need to get twitter and google + working too.  Facebook can be really overwhelming.  I’m going to have to set a filter for emails from them.
Maybe I need to set up a Mailchimp account to handle the emails.

I have a lot of work to do to set up everything so I can market my book.  All of it means nothing though if I am not writing.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if I played a little music when I am writing in my journal anyway.

I feel like I hardly have touch with God.  I am used to having touch with God.  I wonder where he is at?

I think maybe it is not him that has moved.  I think it is me.  I have been so busy setting up this website, blogger, and RSS feed.  Wow there is a lot to do.  Ifttt, Google, Domains, Blogger, Facebook, I can’t even remember what all I have done.

I th…

Looking For My Voice

That title of this makes me feel I should look under my chair for it.

No, I am looking for my voice on my blog and for the characters in my stories.

When I started out writing my novel, I thought I knew exactly what my main character Nehrie was about.  A twelve year old girl, a member of the Pa'iin Tribe of Little People, getting ready to take her first vision quest.

That seemed to me to say plenty right there.  As I go along though I start to realize even though Nehrie is very similar to me she is not me.

I think in one way when I am writing I have to sit back and put myself into that character.  Not what I imagine that character is but to become that character.

For instance:

Nehrie was going along with hardly any flaws or problems.  My story got better when I said she was outside hiding out from doing the dishes.

That gave her a flaw.  It broadened her character.

I always thought writing just flowed off the end of my fingertips. I am learning a lot writing my first novel.  I am…

Learning to Blog or Pulling my hair out slowly.

Ha, ha, ha, I have learned where to put my title.  I kept trying to figure out why my title was running into the rest of my post.

I tried setting a header.  I added an extra space, then two, then three. :)

There's so much to do.  I had to build my website, after buying my domain.  I had to fix my cname and A records.  I had to start a blog.  I had to think of something to write!  I had to figure out how to do all that with no money.  Set up my social networking sites.  Then get an RSS feed going to Twitter, Facebook and Google +.

I tell ya'...

Then of course none of it looks like I thought it would.  :(

I pacify myself with the thought all of you had to do it before me. :)

Ha, ha, ha why is it misery loves company?

Have a nice day.

Reta West

Test if RSS feed is working.

This is really hard getting this thing to work. :(
Problems with SNAP OR
Contacting the #government. Okay, okay, okay, I'll try not to be super boring and redundant here.
RE: The fourth time in a row my #SNAP #benefits #canceled with no prior notice.
This is really annoying to me. 
Oh, by the way sorry about the hash tags.  I'm just learning how to use them, so please bear with me.
My food stamps come on the eleventh of the month.  By the time I find out that they are not going to reload my card that month, I have already lost approximately $94 from my benefits because of the pro-rating from the first of the month.  That's another whole issue.
Anyway, no food stamps.  Then the computer went down for the whole week-end, so I wasn't really aware of if it was due to the computer going down for the whole week-end or my stamps had not been re-newed.  If it was renewal time.  I check my account at religiously now.
By the time I can start filing again it's already the thirteenth.
Now I can't cal…