tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69094687445076170522011-11-27T18:15:56.143-05:00A place for me to put my thoughts and imagination down on paper, so to say. Mostly fiction sometimes memory, many times a combination of the two.Chickeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11528502900671204799noreply@blogger.comBlogger51100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909468744507617052.post-59900840873350630782011-06-05T20:28:00.000-04:002011-06-05T20:28:42.735-04:00

Hiya! This is my 3rd blog done for a group called the GBE2 .  It's an informal group of bloggers, each week on Sunday we are given a word or phrase, a suggestion.  Then it is up to each blogger to take that trigger and go with it.  Short, long, serious, silly, poetic...  It doesn't matter.  A lot of the fun is seeing where each blogger takes it. The group is located on facebook and is a closed

Chickeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11528502900671204799noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909468744507617052.post-21898622381083026892011-06-01T17:16:00.000-04:002011-06-01T17:16:03.141-04:00

There she sat. Again. On that old couch which was covered in tattered and torn blankets trying to hide the fact the the couch itself was tattered and torn. Oxymoronic, right. She knew she should get up and do something, anything. But there she sat unmoving, restless, alone. So unlike anything she had ever dreamed for herself. She wasn't always like this, it was just one of those times where the

Chickeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11528502900671204799noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909468744507617052.post-75655105661846603972011-05-25T22:00:00.002-04:002011-05-25T22:00:53.376-04:00

Expectations... I expected this blog to be easy. I expected to be a rockstar. I expected to live in a big house with four kids and a fabulous husband that doted on me. I expected to live the life of my dreams. I expected..... Well I guess expecting something is kind of like assuming something. You know what they say about that don't cha? Nooooo! Not that one. I would never say that about you!

Chickeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11528502900671204799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909468744507617052.post-14618431578952961842010-01-24T13:59:00.000-05:002010-01-24T13:59:18.603-05:00

Just a warning, this is going to be a short rant.  You may not agree, which is fine with me.  This is just my view and opinion. I have been overloaded with stores and mailings wanting me to donate to help aid Haiti.  This doesn't mean I am unfeeling.  It just means I am overwhelmed by being asked to give each time I turn around.  Sometimes getting a nasty look when I decline.  Sorry lady I can

Chickeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11528502900671204799noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909468744507617052.post-71464103252704559202010-01-02T15:25:00.002-05:002010-01-06T11:14:20.630-05:00

She stood in the bright clear sun, feeling it's warmth on the front of her body. She could see the white puffs coming from her mouth as she breathed in the bitterly cold air. Each breath she took required energy she no longer had. The air seemed to freeze the moisture in her eyes and nose. No longer did she even acknowledge the pain in her numb hands and feet. Her body had ceased to shiver long

Chickeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11528502900671204799noreply@blogger.com9