Not-So-Happy Hour

Today a well-meaning friend delivered news so heinous that I would have taken to my bed, had I not already been lying there, avoiding the day. The Alternet headline blasted:

Popular Beer and Wine Brands Contaminated
with Monsanto’s Weedkiller, Tests Reveal
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New Rules

Scurrying down the sidewalk, my yoga mat bag bonk, bonk, bonks me in the hip as I trot. I’m late for yoga class as usual, and I groan when I see an ad for a local shop loitering in the gutter. “Sorry, I can’t pick you up,” I wheeze to the moldering litter. “I’ve GOT to make yoga class today, I’m under strict orders,” I explain.

Passing over litter in the street pains me as much as

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Start With Hello. . .

Hugging my children a little more tightly today . . . again, today. The news of the latest school shooting brings hot tears and well-worn, knee-jerk reactions. But my heart urges me to resist the temptation to jump into the angry fray. Not that I’m not angry. I’m shaking

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Love Earth Now . . . Where Did That Come From?

I was interviewed recently and the first question asked me how I got inspired to write my book, Love Earth Now. It made me stop and consider. Truth is, I never intended to write a book until I was nearly finished with it. Even then, Brenda Knight of Mango Publishing had to convince me that my crazy collection of stories could even be considered a “book.”

There’s a much longer, blah blah blah, version of it all in the

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The Box

Box of Love Earth Now books
Box of Love Earth Now books

The box is here. It’s an ordinary-looking carton, bearing a simple shipping label. No brand or logo suggest the the contents, but I know. I can hear the thumping inside. Because it contains the outpourings of my own heart.

Writing, for me, is much like childbirth. There’s a lot of groaning, cursing and some

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  © Cheryl Leutjen