Margaret Brennan
Bio
I am a 76 year old grandmother who loves to write, fish, and grab my camera to capture the beautiful scenery I see around me.
My husband and I found our paradise in Punta Gorda Florida where the weather always keeps us guessing.
Stories (338/0)
LOOKIT THEE AT ON ER
LOOK AT THEE AT ON ER Out of the Mouth of Babes ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It didn’t take my mom too long to lose most of her British accent. She arrived here in the US with her family when she was just five years old. For most of the next four years, during her grammar school years, her peers were always asking her to say “something, anything” so they could listen to her speak.
By Margaret Brennan6 months ago in Confessions
SO, I DON'T NEED TO CHARGE IT?
SO, I DON’T NEED TO CHARGE IT? Kindle can’t do that! It all began in 1993, when I married my now husband. I use the word “now” because he is my second and will be my last. My first decided suddenly he wasn’t cut out to be a husband or father. Fifteen years later, I met RD, who at the time, was a widower with children close in age to my own. There were three boys and one girl, the oldest child (I consider all of them to be “ours”, not mine or his) at the time was twenty-six and the youngest was twenty. The immediate blend of families was a huge sigh of relief. RD and I wondered, when we decided to marry, how our children would welcome “step” parents and sibs. Everyone was overjoyed. Whew! What a relief. To say we were blessed is a very mild statement.
By Margaret Brennan6 months ago in Lifehack
THE APPLE
THE APPLE In More Ways Than One * * As per her daily routine, my grandmother was in our apartment for her daily injection of insulin. I was playing in my room but instinctively knew she was there. I had decided to finish the chapter I’d been reading, then head to the kitchen to enjoy some tea with my grandmother. My brother and I had already outgrown the “little kid” toys that still sat in the old hassock my father had built years before. My brother, now wanted to do nothing else but concentrate on learning his guitar. He had turned eleven years old that past February and my ninth birthday was soon approaching. By now, I had a baby sister who wasn’t quite a year old.
By Margaret Brennan6 months ago in Families
GET THE BREAD
GET THE BREAD White or rye? † † † I just celebrated my sixth birthday. As always, my moods fluctuated between quiet and rambunctious. I loved to read and could still for hours as long as the story amused me. Once I felt I no longer wanted to read, I wouldn’t think twice about tossing the book on the chair and running around the apartment teasing my brother – or sometimes, more often than not, just getting underfoot. With the exception of reading, I hated being still. My brother, being two years older, much to my parents’ dismay, always encouraged my animation.
By Margaret Brennan6 months ago in Families
YOU CAN'T WHITEWASH AWAY THE SHADOWS part 2
YOU CAN’T WHITEWASH AWAY THE SHADOWS part 3 Flickering lights ◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊ Fall was approaching and they knew there was much work to be done. The carpet in the living room was now a permanent fixture. The TV shelf had been sanded, stained, and highly polished. The old wood-burning stove was cleaned and repainted with flame proof paint. The old wood paneling on the walls was now clean and polished. The closet in Meg’s room was ripped apart and put back together in a more modern scheme that provided more room. It was now, also a walk-in-closet.
By Margaret Brennan6 months ago in Fiction
YOU CAN'T WHITEWASH AWAY THE SHADOWS - part 2
YOU CAN’T WHITEWASH AWAY THE SHADOWS part 2 water ~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~ It had been a wonderful and fun-filled day. Meg couldn’t have asked for anything more. Well, maybe, she thought, there is one exception. One thing more I could ask for.
By Margaret Brennan6 months ago in Fiction