Maternal Instincts

It’s as if I was thinking aloud and she took notes for me. Important to remind myself that love ❤ is a verb, an action word, and that my brand of love ❤ is all about purpose, strength, character building.

See, there's this thing called biology...


Not long ago I said that love was not always about making people happy, that to genuinely love somebody sometimes requires you to make them unhappy, to risk their rejection and hostility because genuine love demands you put their best interests first. Their best interests may be in direct conflict with what they think they want. I used motherhood as an example which led a non believer to declare, “is that what you think you job is, to make your kids as unhappy as possible?”

All in good humor here, but uh, yes! Precisely! I live to make my kids as miserable as possible. That is my very purpose in life. Have you never had teen-agers before? Let me tell you, if they aren’t hating on you, you’re probably doing something wrong.

Okay, all snark aside, but who can ever forget the delighted toddler, naked as a jaybird, having an…

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The Mystery at Sag Bridge now on sale

Amika Press News & Blog

Our latest book, The Mystery at Sag Bridge by Pat Camalliere, is now on sale.

The Mystery at Sag Bridge by Pat Camalliere Cover photography by Richard Hoyt Lee. Type is Dwiggins Uncial and Janson Text Italic, set by Sarah Koz.

Cora Tozzi is a retired businesswoman who, after nursing her mother through her final illness, wishes only for a peaceful orderly world in her suburban Chicago home. When an angry spirit begins to leave cryptic messages on her computer and threatens those around her, Cora is forced to dig into the town’s notorious past to uncover secrets that will free the bonds that tie her and the spirit. (Read more and purchase now at Amazon or

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Talk About Pop Music

Great-Lake-SwimmersMy most played song this week was “Zero In The City” by Great Lake Swimmers.

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Episode 75: Hitting A Bum Note!

Edwina's Episodes

What was  it about your partner that attracted you to them in the first place?….I have known Mr Grump for 30 years now in total, but we have only been together this time for about 6 years. The story of how we met is here.  Anyway, back in the 80’s, I was attracted to his spiky hair (now he has none), his flirtatious manner (that ended up splitting us up), his dress sense (he used to resemble Midge Ure), and lastly his sexy bum! Now of course, I am not as shallow as to go by looks alone;  he has a great sense of humour (that is vital for me), and a very thoughtful nature.

Last night Mr Grump had a couple of drinks, and as is normally the case on these occasions, he put some music on. Another thing that we both have in common is our fondness…

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Lost and Confused

Me - Who am I?


It’s a beautiful cool day, so I’ve kept all the doors open to bring in the fresh air. Earlier while in the back of the house, I heard the doorbell ring. Quickly, I walked around the corner to see who it was.

One of the elderly ladies, Martha, from down the block was standing outside my screen door with her dog leash in one hand and a sweater hanging from a hanger in the other.

“Are you the one who let me borrow this?” she asked. “No ma’am. It wasn’t me.” Confused, she began looking around. “Who could it have been then?” During a cold day last week, someone had seen her out walking her dog without a jacket on. So they ran inside their home and brought her one. Now she was trying to return it.

I love our neighbors.

After she told me her story, I started to…

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What Racism?

Me - Who am I?


“What racism? People aren’t racist anymore. That ended years ago. Get over it.” Until a couple of weeks ago, that was my thinking. Having lived the majority of my life in a very diversified city, racism is a foreign concept to me.

We have people from all over the world here, and from many different walks of life. It’s practically unheard of to walk into a business and only be greeted by people of one race. In fact, it’s so uncommon that it would probably raise a red flag.

Even with all of my travels around the United States, I’ve never sensed racism or noticed a lack of certain ethnic groups in any particular town or region. Because of that, I felt that if racism did still exist, it must be very rare.

That is, until I had a conversation with my sister who lives in the southern region of…

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Red Pill Epiphanies

See, there's this thing called biology...

I’ve written about the manosphere several times, and frequently the red pills. Red Pills are a subset of the manosphere, this group of men and a tiny handful of women who use a lot of Matrix terminology to support a kind of cult like mentality that revolves around masculinity, generally male superiority in all things. I’ve written rather hysterically about some of the “Christian” red pills when it has become obvious to me that some have strayed so far from scripture as to send me into a full-blown anxiety attack. These are not small theological quibbles, but rather huge and unmistakably problematic themes like we don’t believe in love, Christ, several books in the bible, or women in general. From there we progress to “pour your hatred over them all..”

Not all mind you, I do not paint all so-called red pills with the same brush, but many of them.

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If We Are Going To Kill Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, We Shouldn’t Sanitize It or Turn Away

I could not agree more.


The population of my hometown in 1801 was 2,000 hardy souls. On September 10th of that year, 10,000 people gathered on the Town Common. What caused the population to swell to five times its usual size? A good old fashioned hanging.

Earlier that year, Jason Fairbanks murdered his girlfriend—or failed in his half of a suicide pact, depending on who you believe. The jury thought it was the former and sentenced him to die, but he escaped and nearly made it to Canada before he was captured, returned to Boston, and finally acquainted with the hangman’s noose.

The story made headlines around the country, which was no small feat just 25 years after the founding of our republic. In our own day, the trial of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev for the Boston Marathon bombings was watched around the nation and around the world, and especially here in the Hub of the Universe.

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Where It Happened, Poem by Donna Hilbert

Silver Birch Press



Poem by Donna Hilbert

At the seam of water and sand
a lone blue heron stands.
And in the placid sea
its distant kin: the pelican.
On such mornings
all birds are silver, all words are song:
silver water, silver light
birds in flight
and after.
Weeks ago, sirens
lured me from my work
and on my perch
above the beach, I watched
as lifeguards pulled
a girl from water to sand.
There is no way to sing this.
It is noon:
the light is not silver,
nothing is placid
the spectral birds elsewhere,
but two policemen are here
with a man and woman.  The parents.
This is where it happened.
I didn’t see her face
that day, only her torso
her pale arms, still legs.
And her swimsuit,
her scarlet swimsuit.

About the Author: Donna Hilbert’s latest book, The Green Season,World…

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Gravity, poem by Donna Hilbert

Silver Birch Press

by Donna Hilbert

What binds me to this earth
are the hands of my children,
as I hold my mother
holding her mother
back to the mother
who begat us all.
This is gravity.
This is why we call the earth Mother,
why all rising is a miracle.

SOURCE: “Gravity” appears in Donna Hilbert‘s collection Deep Red, available at

IMAGE: “Gravity Conceptual” by Victor de Schwanberg. Prints available at

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Donna Hilbert’s latest book, The Congress of Luminous Bodies, is availble from Aortic Books or at The Green Season (World Parade Books), a collection of poems, stories, and essays, is now available in an expanded second edition. Donna appears in and her poetry is the text of the documentary Grief Becomes Me: A Love Story, a Christine Fugate film. Earlier books include Mansions and Deep…

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