A Fear Bigger Than Spiders

I've often wondered what happens when a writer gets too old to write or they are afflicted by Alzheimer's. Do they just stop writing? Do they repeat story ideas? My hope is that by using the brain so much and being creative that it remains healthy but...can over-using it cause damage? I think I have a story here.

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In the Witch's Lair

So a little while ago, Tim Holtz had a video showing all of the new Ideal-ology goodies for Christmas. You know me, I bleed orange and black, but one thing in particular made me OOL (ooh out loud). The Vignette Box Tops. When I saw the sweet scenes he made out of Vignette Boxes and those tops...my Halloween vein started throbbing! I ordered them and finally got them Thursday. I was off work yesterday and not feeling well so I created this neat little vignette! Everything used to create this project is Tim Holtz except for the black creepy drape cloth, the glass glitter, and the moss. It all started with larger Vignette box. I cut a piece of Halloween paper to fit the back and edged it in Black Soot Distress ink. I took the largest box top and traced it out onto a piece of Lost and Found paper stash. I wanted to use a Halloween design, but the paper was just a bit too small. Once I had the box top traced, I cut it out and cut out the little window portion as well. I added Black

I Have No Words

This post has been a difficult one to write. Like so many others, the pandemic has really thrown me into a loop and brought many unexpected and unwanted changes. I left my job of over 19 years in October. The stress, frustration, and unhappiness was too much and the negativity was seeping into my off-time and basically killed any motivation I had to write or make anything. Around that same time, my sister's breast cancer returned with a vengeance and destroyed the funny, loving, energetic woman I had always known and loved. She became a fragile shell and then she was gone. My heart was still raw when my mother, the rock of our family, died unexpectely on Friday. I'm stunned. Shocked. It makes no sense. She's gone. I'm not sure what the future holds for me. I've been working in the healthcare field and I'm happy with the job but life keeps telling me how short it is and I think I need to really listen this time.

My Submission for Needle's Flash Fiction Challenge

"Gone Fishing" Copyright 2010 by Carey Burns Prissy jumped down from Veronica's lap and skittered to the front of the fishing boat, her paws on the side rail as she barked at the kids fishing on the shoreline. "Von, will you keep that ratty dog quiet? She's scaring away the fish." Sam reeled in his slack line, wishing he would have left her and that damn dog of hers at home instead of letting her weasel her way into his fishing trip with Bailey. Baily Evers was the only reason Von had any interest in fishing and she flirted with him mercilessly in the truck and for the first hour on the lake until Sam told her to shut her silly mouth. Since then Veronica sat sulking with Prissy whimpering in her arms. Bailey chuckled. "Maybe we can hang ol' Pris over the edge and see if there really are barracuda in this lake." He tilted back his Dodgers' cap and wiped the sweat from his brow, squinting as he stared off across the lake. "Should we

Carey Burns

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