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Stories written by Betty Slade

Hoarders and artists are not the same

I am sending a message to John: “I lost the bet. You can collect your money. Sweet Al has filled up my garage with all his junk. I told you…

All dressed up and somewhere to go

My Sweet Al and I were all dressed up. It was a summer social for our writers’ group. Of course, Whiskey followed. After chasing her down, Al tricked her into…

Entrusted with a creative child

Years ago someone said to me, “God entrusted you with this child because He knew He could trust you to raise him.” I remember thinking, “I don’t have the foggiest…

A cliffhanger : Hanging in the air with Sweet Al

“I was just trying to help and I didn’t mean to get in trouble,” My Sweet Al said to me. “I know,” I told him. “ I asked you to…

Not in my job description

My Sweet Al’s brother called. He barked orders to me. “Where’s Al?” “Gone.” “You need to get all of Al’s old cars out and sell them.” “They are Al’s cars,…

Remembering The Flower Man

We find comfort in old landmarks. We reference ourselves around people who leave their fingerprints on our lives and their footprints in our path. This week, I learned a word…

Big fun in close quarters

And, hot dog. We made it through another winter. I love being tucked away on a winter’s day and write to my heart’s content. But, I love summers even more…

That creative bent has its own beat

An artist might think herself a diva and insist that the world fall at her feet. The dictionary says a diva is a self-important person, typically a woman, who is…

We are worthy: It’s not about abilities

The community of Pagosa Springs is about family groups. We hurt and cry with family and friends. We laugh and have fun together. As we are growing up, the days…

Some things aren’t negotiable

Our son came home to help his dad. It’s humbling when a child puts his life on hold to help his parents. Al and I see ourselves as being able…