by Carla Joy | Apr 16, 2018 | Archives, Poetry
She sits in the back corner of the cafe Like a well-worn fifth edition Of the Betty Crocker Cookbook Greasy paged, notes scribbled in the margins Open to the recipe for tater-tot casserole And how to stretch hamburger To feed a hungry family Only now the children are...
by Carla Joy | Apr 16, 2018 | Archives, Prose
The first day we moved into our house on a tree-lined street in the sun-kissed town of Pasadena, California, a young girl appeared at our door. She had round, apple cheeks and a gap between her front teeth that matched her wide open smile. “Hi! I’m Anita....
by Carla Joy | Apr 11, 2018 | Archives, Prose
I have been blessed with wonderful girlfriends at every stage of my life. The next few posts, I am going to describe these laides and share how they influenced my life. Sandi Howie I met Sandi as a little girl in “First Form” (kindergarten) while my family lived in...
by Carla Joy | Apr 2, 2018 | Archives, Poetry
I wrote this poem after reconnecting with a friend over Easter vacation. I have been struggling to write a poem about her for years…it finally flowed. Coffee Cafe Customers: The Quilter My old friend sits at the table like a lump of dough. The discontent rises...
