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¿Til Death do us Part

A few months ago, I entered into an online writing competition sponsored by a group call NYC Midnight (https://www.nycmidnight.com). The challenge was to write 1,000 word short story in 48 hours. Guidelines given were that the genre of the story should be "Romance", the setting for the story "A cottage") and at some point in the story a "Whisk" should appear. I didn't win anything, but got some good feedback, both positive and constructive.   ‘Til Death do us Part   There is so much more to love than simple romance. John and Stuart show us what a lifetime of commitment means to true love. I returned from my walk at around three in the afternoon. The sun cut through the trees to give the cottage a surreal glow. The sound of Puccini’s “Nessun Dorma” wafted through the windows and out into the surrounding forest. It was John’s favorite piece, and I was glad that I had bought it for him on one of our first Valentines Days together. These days, I w...
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ALL THE WORLD IS KINDA LIKE A STAGE

In the summer of 1975, while pursuing a degree in Theatre Design at Penn State University, I headed to Dayton, Ohio to work as a stage carpenter at Wright State University.   The summer theatre season put on by the University included six productions:   the musical Man of La Mancha based on the story of Don Quixote; the psychological thriller Veronica's Room (by Ira Leven –author of Rosemary’s Baby); the classic black comedy “ Arsenic and Old Lace ”; “ After Magritte ”, a surreal comedy by Tom Stoppard; “ The Real Inspector Hound ”, a one-act audience participation ‘whodunit’ also by Stoppard and, finally, Shakespeare’s “ Twelfth Night”.   You can well imagine the craziness of pulling together SIX plays over a four month period, all on the same stage!   The set designer, whose name is lost both to me and the internets) was considered one of the best of his time.   In order to meet the heavy schedule, we first completed the first set – in this case for Man...
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PA BOY, THROUGH AND THROUGH On seeing an article about the upcoming regular deer hunting season in Pennsylvania, I was whisked back to my own, not so glamorous (or successful) experience in stalking the white-tailed deer in different places around Danville.   Being a regular old PA boy, I of course was indoctrinated into a sport hunting culture at an early age.   Having a dad who was the local Deputy Game Commissioner and who was known, both affectionately and, at times derisively, as “Birddog Weaver” (we always had at least two German Shorthair dogs trained to sniff and point out wary pheasant hiding in the underbrush of overgrown fields around the area) cemented my expected introduction into sportsmanlike conduct. Unfortunately, I was not, nor would ever be, a natural born hunter.   I had other interests, and while spending hour upon hour looking for adventures in the woods and farmland surrounding Danville was an enjoyable part of childhood, tramping around with a ri...
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