Once upon a time, I worked for a company in Little Rock where there was a clerical aide we’ll call Mickie. Probably in her mid-to-late-40s, she was completely uneducated — couldn’t read or write but was committed to her job and possessed a good heart and her own special wisdom. A few times we had big snow days that closed schools and day care, and I had to take young Alex to work with me. Mickie would take him with her to deliver mail throughout the building, make copies and other tasks. She helped keep him busy all day.I learned a valuable lesson from Mickie which I have carried with me for all these years. There were times when a hubub was stirring, but Mickie declined to be caught up in it. She’d say, “That be THEY problem.” Right. Not all crazy-making needs to drag us into the proverbial mud puddle. It’s important to assess the situation and, when appropriate, determine “That be THEY problem.”
We must live with sadness, but we don’t have to live sadly.
Come into my arms, dear man,
And hide from the bruising intrusions of the worl
No longer alone and vulnerable like a naked bulb
Casting scant light in some dreary hall
Come into my warmth and claim the sanctuary
Of my breasts.
Accept the faith that hides not far behind
Yield to the strength of my slim hands.
Increase my light with yours.
Trace your plans and hopes with gentle hands
Across the whiteness of my belly,
But leave a trail we’ll find again
In the dark nights of our fears.
Give me your tears as easily as your smiles.
Then rest with me matching breath for breath
‘Til the world can no longer hold nor harm us.
Come into my arms, dear man,
And let me love you.
Daddy said boys only want one thing.
Mama said dress real pretty
Gramaw said keep your knees together
My girlfriend said everyone’s doing it
The boy said you would if you love me.
The doctor said wisdom always comes too late
Join me for a peek into the first part of a recent book signing. Two friends did me the favor of presenting excerpt readings from two stories in my newest book, Our Mothers and Daughters. They were just terrific. All of my books are available on Amazon and can be ordered from your favorite bookstore.
Friends joined me to present my newest book, Our Mothers and Daughters, at a July book signing. Linda (left) read an excerpt from the touching Angels With Only One Wing, a story about two lonely people, a little girl and an elderly, immigrant woman, who form a strong bond. Dan did a reading from The Pinch, which looks at a poor Irish family during the Memphis 1878 Yellow Fever epidemic. They did a terrific job, and the event was fun and successful.
This excerpt is from my new book, Our Mothers and Daughters. The story is The Pinch, set in the immigrant section of Memphis during the 1878 Yellow Fever epidemic. The book is available on Amazon.
“Fee was everyone’s best friend. She was adored, and Kate was never jealous because she knew, more than anyone, just how special her sister was. Of all the redheaded children in the family, Fiona’s coppery hair shone the brightest. Her ruddy cheeks were like summer apples. She ran and skipped instead of walking. She moved so lightly that she nearly took flight, but her blue eyes were deep, and had the look of an old soul. The air around her seemed to shimmer. She laughed and giggled, and was Ma’s little helper, particularly with the new babies. Though he loved all his children, Fee was the light in Michael James’ eyes. She was the air that filled his lungs. A sprite who gave him hope. Fiona ran to him when he came home from his job. They played games, and she danced and twirled in circles when he sang. When the other babies died, it was Fiona who sat in Da’s lap, and kissed his tears. Mary Elizabeth and Michael were certain that she was an angel, and a great blessing to their family. They quite nearly worshipped the celestial being who lived in their tenement apartment.”
Great news. My newest book, Our Mothers & Daughters, is now available on Amazon and will soon be in select book stores. The book is already on the reading schedule of a Memphis book club. Happy reading!https://www.amazon.com/s?k=diane+thomas-plunk&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss_2
Diane Thomas-Plunk’s newest short story collection, Our Mothers and Daughters, is now available for pre-sale orders on Amazon.com.
The relationship between mother and daughter is like a silken ribbon occasionally dotted with thorns. The independence of one increases as the other’s diminishes. The vibrancy, the beauty of the younger blossoms as the older fades. Top down advice becomes bottom up resistance. There is always the push-pull between them, yet the bond forever endures whether from devotion or guilt.
I tell stories on Scarlett, and I tell on myself, so do you think I’m going to let my husband escape? You need to know that, for most of you, he’s been hiding a wicked sense of humor.
Way back when Mike was touring with Grammy-nominated sax player Ace Cannon, the band traveled in a large van that pulled an equipment trailer.. Mike usually drove; Ace rode shotgun; and the other guys grabbed seats and benches in the back. On this particular night, they had left one gig and had driven through the night to the next one. Everyone was asleep except Mike, who was bored.
Some time after sunrise, he spotted a tow truck ahead that was hauling the disabled cab of a tractor-trailer rig. The “broken” vehicle was hooked up so that the front of the cab was facing back. Glancing up, one might think that a big rig was staring them down. And that produced Mike’s evil thought.
Mike moved over into that lane and closed in as near and as safely as he could to the front bumper of that backwards 18-wheeler cab. At the right moment, he hit his brakes and screamed for effect. Guys in the back flew awake yelling. Ace let out a yell and grabbed his chest. Mike – well, he was the guy laughing for the next several miles
The good news was that Ace did not have a heart attack, and Mike continued working with him for a long time thereafter.
(See Ace Cannon below.) See LessEdit