Wednesday, February 21, 2018 published another of my stories.  I LOVE this website.  Some truly hilarious writers out there! 
Here's my contribution:

The name game

I thought I had it all – a great husband, two terrific kids, a dog who doesn’t chew the furniture, cats that do. What more could a woman want?
Then I went out to lunch with a friend. During the course of the meal, the subject of family came up and she mentioned that she and her husband had been invited out to Summerhill for the weekend. I’d not heard of any towns by the name of Summerhill and queried her as to the location. She laughingly explained to silly old me that Summerhill was not a town, but rather the name of her sister’s home.
Her sister’s house has a name.
I’ve had the dog for two years and still haven`t gotten around to naming him.
I seldom call my kids by the names I so lovingly gave them at birth because I forget which kid I gave which name. I think I have convinced them that their names are Shawn Kevin and Kevin Shawn and that sometimes I just choose to call them by their middle name.
Everyone we know calls my husband by a nickname he picked up in high school. For the life of me, I can`t remember the name I called him the day I said, “I, Sharon, take you…”   Surely I didn`t say “Snooter.”
My friend`s sister apparently not only knows her husband’s name, she also knows her house’s name!
I am ashamed. I`m going to give the dog a name, but more importantly, I`m giving my house a name. No longer will we simply be a number on a street.
I wonder though, will I have to put a sign on the front lawn to make it easier for the letter carrier to deliver mail to my family?
Does my house have to have a last name?  Is there some government office where one send a cheque to register the house`s name?
I`m giving a party next week and you`re all invited. It`s a gathering to celebrate the naming of my house. It`s a potluck and bring-your-own-beverages affair.
So please load up the car with your kids and come on out to Bert.
No wait, I`ll never remember Bert. I`ll have to come up with something easier to remember. I have a better idea and I`ll never forget where I live. I shall name my house Yale, that’s the name on the key.
Sorry, that won’t work. My car key says Yale too. If I happened to have to run out to get mustard as the guests were arriving, you might all think it was a mobile party and follow me through the city. You certainly wouldn’t consider yourself very pot-lucky if the only thing you had to eat was what you brought to Yale.
No, we’ll have to stick with Bert.
Actually, that name could be a problem; I think one of my cats is named is Bart. You might think we were dining with the cat and nobody likes cat hair in their food.
I`m afraid we’ll have to cancel the party until I think up a better name.
I’ll call you.
Just as soon as I remember your name.
– Sharon Gerger
Sharon Gerger is an award-winning writer with work published in New Yorker, Glimmer Train, Harpe…okay, that’s all balderdash.  She writes a lot and sometimes people publish her work and that fills her with bliss.  If they happen to pay her; well, good-gosh-galoshes, she gets sorta delirious.

Monday, January 1, 2018

Creatively, December 2017 has been a good month for me.

I sold eight cards from my Etsy Shop.

I found out one of my short stories is going to be published in a book AND they are going to pay me! Here is the announcement:

I had one of my essays published on the website. You can read it here: 

I had one of my essays published in Woman's World, both the online version on Dec 18th and the print version dated Dec 25/17 AND they are going to pay me! Here's the story:

I learned I was a finalist in a WOW-Women on Writing essay contest. I know now, I have not placed in the top three as their website states they have sent letters to the top three looking for a photo and more information and I didn't get one of those letters :-(
There are some great stories and essays on this website, you should check it out.

Happy New Year!

Thursday, December 15, 2016

A new business idea

I saw a button business at the Holiday Sale I was in on the weekend.  I've been thinking I should go into this business.  My eldest son said this to me recently while we were chatting and I think  it would make a great button:

"Mom! I can hear you farting, you're hard of hearing, I am not!"

He doesn't think people would wear this button

I'll have to think some more.

Monday, October 31, 2016

This might be the most excited I've ever been about being published anywhere.  Please have a read and if you laugh, share!

Thank you,

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Butterfly Conservatory

Kim, Bob, their kids, Dad and I went to the Butterfly Conservatory when they were home last June. Pretty amazing place.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

I'm a WINNER! sort of...

I entered a 24 hour short story contest and I honourable mention!  It takes so little to make me happy, I am over the moon happy!  I won a free eBook and a magazine subscription.
Check out my name in the Honorable Mention section (4th from the bottom). Way cool huh?

They publish the 1st, 2nd and 3rd place winners on the site and they are great stories. I really liked the first place winner.

Here was our prompt:  We had 24 hours to submit a story.


A blizzard raged outside, battering the cozy ski lodge.
Merry skiers drank hot chocolate and hot toddies, excited
about the fresh white powder they'd be conquering tomorrow.
Smiling, she took another sip, her eyes briefly wandering
from the man sitting before her, to a different gentleman
across the room. He was sitting alone, and staring at...

(Stories only needed to touch on that topic in some way to qualify.)

Here is my story:

The Anniversary Gift

The blizzard raged outside, battering the cozy ski lodge. I’d gone outside to walk in the storm as I’d never seen snow before this trip. Not only does it not rain in southern California...

My husband and I had decided when we got married that we would celebrate our anniversaries doing something we’d never done before. In the past we’d gone to the Galapagos Islands and para-sailing over Mexican beaches. This year, our third anniversary, we were skiing in Colorado. Well not actually skiing, more hanging out at the chalet looking like skiers.

I’d finished my not terribly pleasant walk and was headed back to my room. The elevator jerked to a stop. The man standing in front of me cursed softly and started pushing buttons. Nothing happened. “Well,” he said, “isn’t this lovely?”

I looked up and I saw Stephen King looking back at me.

I was stuck on an elevator with my favorite author. I had so many questions to ask him and I wanted to tell him I am a huge fan. In fact I wanted to say something terribly clever, like, “I’m your number one fan”, and wink at him trying to look as loony as Kathy Bates looked in the movie adaptation of his book, Misery.

All I could manage was an unearthly whinny which I followed with a barking cough.

Oh good, now he thought he was trapped on an elevator with a woman who does animal impersonations.

I struggled to think of something witty to say to explain the strange sounds. While I was thinking, I was grinning like I’d won the lottery and I forgot to swallow. Suddenly, I felt drool running down my chin.

Mr. King was looking a little frightened at this point.

I swiped at the drool and my hand slipped in the greasy spittle and I ended up punching myself in the nose which brought tears to my eyes.

He no longer looked frightened; this man was now terrified and stuck on an elevator with what was scaring him.

The thought of him being afraid of me struck me as hilarious and as I opened my mouth to laugh A sneeze worked its way through my nasal cavity.  My mouth was open, and we were locked in a tiny space, the sound was enormous.

He actually jumped away from me.

I needed a tissue and I didn’t have one so I wiped my nose on the sleeve of my fake fur jacket. Some of the fake fur hairs detached from my jacket and stuck to my nose.

I was beet red with a wet chin and a furry nose and teary eyes when suddenly the doors opened and he ran off without saying a word to me.

I went back to my room and didn’t tell my husband the story. It was just too embarrassing a tale to share.  We had reservations for dinner in the hotel so I showered and got ready.

The hostess sat us at a table where we could see the snow falling. Merry skiers drank hot chocolate and hot toddies, excited about the fresh white powder they'd be conquering tomorrow. Smiling, I took a sip or my wine, my eyes briefly wandering from my husband sitting across from me, to a man at the table next to us.  He was sitting alone, and staring at me.

His eyes changed and I realized he recognized me. I wanted to explain. I got up and approached him and he started to stand. I put out my hand to shake his but instead I caught the glass sitting in front of him and red wine splashed out all over his white sweater. I reached for the napkin on his table and as I jerked it up, his cutlery flew into the air and the steak knife touched the back of his hand. It touched hard enough to draw blood.

He said nothing, turned his back on me and ran from the restaurant, I started to run after him to try to explain.

My husband grabbed my arm and said, “I think you should just leave him alone, you were obviously making him uncomfortable.  I think that so far this is the best shot we’ve got of being in a book.”

“Oh, you have no idea honey; I cannot wait to read his next book.”

“Well I still think I have a good chance. ‘Accidentally’ knocking John Saul down the hill into the path of the Komodo dragon and then saving his life still might get me in a book before you. But then I still can’t believe E. L James hasn’t added our nude para-sailing to a book yet. I mean it’s not like she couldn’t have noticed, we landed right in front of her"