Author Archives: Judith Pettersen

Something strange comes over me in the month before Christmas. A restlessness. An inability to view my surroundings with anything less than creeping dissatisfaction. The benefit of this emotion is that I get things done. Tree up. House cleaned and decorated. But there’s a less beneficial side effect. I call it the ‘Can’t leave wellContinue reading “‘Tis the Season”

There are two kinds of people in the world. Nay, three. First are the collectors. They spend their lives searching for the perfect addition to their vast hoard. The missing piece. The finishing touch. Nick nacks reproduce in the dark of night, popping out baby nick nacks and expanding their territory so that every timeContinue reading “Nick Nack, Paddy Whack”

I hate the idea of being afraid. Of running for my life for any reason at all. Catastrophic climate change. Nuclear war. Zombies. But aside from the potential for slow starvation or my inability to outrun anything with legs, there would be certain advantages. Like, never doing my hair again. I’d get one of thoseContinue reading “It’s the Apolcalypse! And Yet…”

Here’s the thing about writers. They’re not what you think. Sure, some of them own sweaters with suede patched elbows, or sit at antique desks looking off into the distance while chewing pensively on feathered quills. But not usually. Most writers are like the people I meet at conferences. Vague looking, mostly old, and holdingContinue reading “It Was a Dark and Stormy Night”

There are moments in life when fear takes you by the throat and squeezes until you can hardly breathe. Like when you’ve settled nicely into the middle seat on a plane, and a couple of six hundred pound men with bad B.O. lumber toward your three person row. That’s a worst case scenario. Or soContinue reading “Fear of Flying”

In 1978, we had a truly awesome idea.  “Why don’t we travel across Asia in back of a Bedford army truck with a bunch of strangers and an insane driver?”  Yeah. Encounter Overland called our three month vacation their most disastrous trip ever. In spite of that, or because of it, we bonded. It mightContinue reading “The State of Our Union”

When it comes to our two granddaughters, my husband has a competitive streak. Since Claire was a toddler, he’s bragged about wearing high fashion. I’ve witnessed shouting matches between the two over who wins the title. Claire with her rubber boots, matching swimming goggles and long velvet dress. Her grandpa in his own eccentric getup.Continue reading “How High’s that Waistband, Mama?”

I’ve finally figured out why I love to read. It’s not just pure escapism, or meeting characters who move me enough to keep the pages turning. Good fiction shows life pared down to its essential parts. Characters might stand at the edge of a cliff and contemplate life, but you can bet they’re not thinking, “IContinue reading “The Book of Me and You”

Dear Lawn in my front yard, It has become apparent to me that we are not getting along. Your soft nest of healthy green has vanished, leaving in place a crusty, bald patch of ground that is a constant source of humiliation for my husband and me. Thanks a lot. Sure, there are bugs inContinue reading “Say Something, I’m Giving Up On You”

Back in the day, teenage couples occasionally engaged in a thing called parking. Not ‘parkour,’ which involves leaping off rooftops and fences. Just parking, where you stop a car. And sit for a while. You’d find an adequate hiding place, park the car, and learn about the fine game of baseball. For guys, it was all about third base. For girls, it dependedContinue reading “Riding in Cars With Boys”