Author Archives: Sharon Gardner-Lloyd

Grannie Sands, the Surviving Teapot and Sirens with your Supper

They always came together, the sirens with the supper. It was as if Hitler didn’t want the English to ever have a hot meal. Continue reading

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Filed under Griff, Humor, Immigrant, Life, My Husband's Parents, Stories, True Life, World War II, Writing

Following Your Gut

The drugs were very disappointing. I had really hoped for something a little more….recreational. One second I am being pushed into the OR with white cotton heated heavy cuddle-up this is almost like a spa blanket and looking into the … Continue reading

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The Night of Two Christmases and the Hassle of Hogmanay

I was 9 the night of two Christmases. Not two, gotta go to both grandma’s house Christmases. Or two open presents Christmas Eve and Christmas Day Christmases. Two Christmases, in one place on the very same night. It was the clocks fault. … Continue reading

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Filed under Children, Family, Humor, Life, Stories, Story Telling, True Life, Uncategorized, Writing

Then & Now

Like a  Kurosawa film the action was in slow motion. The windup, the letting go,  it  flies through the air, tumbling over and over until with the precision of a surgeon it hits the target. The boy in the back row never saw it coming. The eraser … Continue reading

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Phoenix

Vivid blue crayon sky. Camelback, Praying Monk, and Squaw Peak, familiar shapes rise from the desert floor. Lunar landscape pink Papago with worn holes through and through, the place to ride bikes watch the sun set and the stars rise. Giant saguaros marching, stopped forever … Continue reading

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Filed under Arizona's Immigration Law, Immigrant, Law School, Stories, True Life, Uncategorized, Writing

Nellie Bell, the Wonder Bread Bag, and Decades of Different Dye

For My Sister Michele, who is always and forever Nellies favorite.
Chin up, my sister and know you are loved. Continue reading

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Filed under Family, Story Telling, True Life, Writing

Clean

There are no wooden tiles embossed with the letters of the alphabet; no cards dealt, no draw or discard piles; there are no tokens, dice or game boards; we do not pass go, we do not collect $200.00. It’s not that type of game.

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Filed under care giving, Caregiver, Griff, Life, Multiple System Atrophy, Shy Drager Syndrome, Story Telling, True Life, Writing

The Easter Bonnet, the Bag of Chips, and the Cricket Obstacle Course

The ride south is sunfilled; mirror glass icons gleam, alleys and chain link fences anchored with discarded cups, straws and empty plastic bags. The other side of the tracks. The facades faded, flat; chipped paint and rusty doors rule.

The backside of business. Count the Bed Bath Beyonds, Taco Bells, and Dominos Pizza places. What the market will bare.

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Filed under Life, True Life, Writing

The Dinner Table, the Burping Alphabet Bet and The Peter Pan Collar

The table was always set, every night, fork to the left of the plate, knife to the right, paper towel napkin folded in half tucked under the knife.  The fork was always in the left hand, still is, the knife in the … Continue reading

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Filed under Family, Life, Stories, True Life, Writing

Tell Tale Heart

Bad girl takes over, refuses to look away; see high-waisted khaki pants, a slight tuck to the left, buttons all done up tight, scrub faced always wears a white undershirt, tightie whities, faithful deck shoes awaiting a deck, a walking ad for L.L. Bean. Safe money says this is an only gets blow jobs on birthdays kinda guy. Continue reading

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Filed under care giving, Caregiver, Elder Care, Family, Griff, Life, Multiple System Atrophy, My Husband's Parents, Sandwich generation, Shy Drager Syndrome, True Life, Writing