Mary Haynes
Bio
Mary Haynes splits her time between a romantic old sailboat in tropical waters and a beach home in Ontario. A wanderer, by fate, she embraces wherever she roams! Mary recently completed her first children’s book, “Who Ate My Peppers?”
Stories (74/0)
Through the Porthole
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. The small portholes offered a limited view of the boats bobbing up and down in the anchorage. Tia was only twelve when the bombs decimated the levies, and the ocean washed the city away. She opened the door to peek outside and was swept away as the water carried her home into the sea.
By Mary Haynesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Turkey Bone
The holiday dinners were over. The Christmas dishes were stored in the closet for another year. All the decorations had been carted to the storeroom along with the old artificial pine tree, wrapped in plastic. Anne still found the occasional "pine" needle the tree had dropped as she dusted. She carefully picked up the framed Christmas photos of her grandchildren. She ran her fingers lovingly over each one. They're all another year older.
By Mary Haynesabout a year ago in Families
Lifeline in a Box
Sloan heard the humming just outside her front door. Pressing her eye against the peephole, she saw a large drone hovering outside her door. She instinctively ducked, a habit she'd adapted since she left Hollywood. Rocking back and forth on the floor, she sang her mantra, "Everything's going to be all right, all right, all right, all right." The humming stopped, and she crawled up and peered out again. There was nothing in sight. She sat quietly until the rumbling in her stomach grew too loud to ignore. Slapping her belly, she yelled, "Fine! You win, stomach. I'll try to find something."
By Mary Haynesabout a year ago in Fiction
Upended Tables, Forgotten Buns
The Sweeney family Holiday get-togethers are epically chaotic, full of love, laughter, and quirky family madness. The full-on holiday traditions ended when my mother passed away. Still, when parts of us manage to gather, we remember and continue the chaos. I know she’s laughing with us.
By Mary Haynesabout a year ago in Families
My Daughter the Fish
Little Tiffany was a born swimmer. When I was pregnant with her, I was very active, running 10K races. My Chinese Doctor, who I was very fond of, thought I was overdoing it and he suggested I stop running for the duration of my pregnancy, and perhaps do something gentler, like swimming. I swan lengths four to five days a week. When I was in the last trimester, after I finished my swim and took a shower, my abdomen would move rapidly as my baby kicked hard inside of me. It seemed she wanted to continue swimming.
By Mary Haynesabout a year ago in Humans
Grandma’s Super-Secret Kraft™ Dinner Recipe
My Mother was a sneaky cook. I don’t think she held out on purpose, she just was a "dash of this and a dash of that" kind of person. Her cooking style was one of the many things that made her unique and irreplaceable. Everything she did was with heart and soul. Her love was like a warm, safe blanket she enveloped all of us in. Her sense of humor was as quirky as her cooking.
By Mary Haynes2 years ago in Feast