Lisa Smith
Bio
Hello! I am a teacher, writer, and grandma (not necessarily in that order!) living in Southeastern Idaho. I love to read and think about literature of all kinds as a way, simply, to connect with other lives and worlds.
Stories (3/0)
Warm River
Warm River is a favorite picnic and tubing place for my family. It’s about an hour and a half from my front door, and people can camp there. Requisite metal picnic tables dot the wide, grassy banks as do willow bushes where raccoons and skunks like to stave off the heat of summer until sundown. (One year when we camped there overnight, a skunk circled our tent for what seemed like the entire night, and at some point he brought friends that tried to scratch their way in. Afraid to venture out, I peed in a red plastic salad bowl.) If you fish, you can catch brook, rainbow, and cutthroat trout in the slow, shallow water. But beware: the name “Warm River” is horribly misleading, as the water never thinks of approaching tepid, even on the lengthiest, most sun-soaked of dog days. Unless you’re hammered or have fortified waders on, you’re going to have to con some kid to wade out to the middle of the frigid water and flip over rocks to scare the fish out. You might want to offer a twenty.
By Lisa Smith4 years ago in Wander
Women Hold Up Half the Sky
Women Hold Up Half the Sky The room had flowered wallpaper—tiny pink flowers on a taupe background. On the wall, a mother and child rocked gently, sweetly, under a breeze-blown willow. In the room itself, surrounded by poles, tubes, and silver things, a clean bed quietly waited, a large white pillow poised to cradle a weary head. Over the side rail hung a thick, fluffy tan blanket, needed as much for cushioning as for warmth. Across from the bed, a tall, burnt-honey wooden cupboard stood, doors open, offering hangers and extra blankets. A freckled ivy sprawled over the top. A kind young orderly attended to my safety and comfort as he eased my swollen body from the wheelchair to the bed.
By Lisa Smith4 years ago in Viva
