Barb Dukeman
Bio
I have three books published on Amazon if you want to read more. I have shorter pieces (less than 600 words at https://barbdukeman.substack.com/. Subscribe today if you like what you read here or just say Hi.
Achievements (13)
Stories (198)
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My Mom's Green Thumb
My mother’s green thumb couldn’t be surpassed by many. Oh, I’m sure there are horticulturists and botanists that study this kind of thing, but to her it was as natural as breathing. Her yard was full of shade trees, fruit trees, plants of every kind from bromeliads to kalanchoe. She knew the best ways to keep the rabbits away from her blueberries. This solution was to sit outside at night and throw rocks at the rabbits when they come for her blueberries. A couple of nights of this, and there were no more bun-buns around.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Families
Pirates Ahead. Top Story - July 2021.
My grandfather was right about many things. He called the World Series winners many years in a row, how we’d put a man on the moon, Nixon – he knew things, or he was an excellent guesser. His 86 years of experience included both good things and bad, the good things being what he shared with his grandkids. Besides his love of chess, he loved making us laugh. He would take us into his lap and point to his mustache. We’d go to touch it, and he’d pretend to bite our fingers. My father did that, too, come to think of it. We’d break out into a fit of giggles.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Families
Movie Review-Disney
I brought my 12-year-old Little Sister (from the Big Brother/Big Sister mentoring program) to see a movie. It’s sad to realize that the only talking bear that today’s generation of kids are familiar with is the raunchy Ted or possible some naughty puppets from Avenue Q. Marc Forster’s Christopher Robin refreshes the A.A. Milne classic and brings us to the future of Christopher, which still leaves us in the late 1940s. This is a departure from the annoying habit of modernizing fairy tales by immersing them in current-day scenarios like Enchanted or Hook. Instead, we get a mesmerizing period piece of post-war London in stunning detail as the tale unwinds.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Families
Scream-A-Geddon
Halloween Horror Nights at Universal (HHN). Howl-O-Scream at Busch Gardens (HOS). ZooBoo at Lowry Park Zoo. The Horror Trail in 1980s’ Carrollwood where actual cows’ heads hung from the trees and a headless horseman roamed the woods. I’ve seen quite a few attempts at instilling fear, but haven’t felt it. I think I found it at Scream-A-Geddon in Dade City, Florida.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Horror
Dreams Under the Ice (Revised)
Winter, and once again alone on the ice. This is where she came to forget about her troubles, to forget her responsibilities, to avoid her future. This is where she felt strongest. Guiding power into her legs, Mara glided across the frozen pond, leaving little white lines and circle arcs on the surface. Her childhood was spent there, scraping and spinning, falling and learning. The sound of splitting ice spitting snow and carved designs thrilled her in the chilled air. Arms outstretched, bitter wind on her face, she breathed in energy and breathed out art. She shifted her weight and started flying backwards over the light dusting of snow on the ice. The banks, trees, all brilliant white, deadly silent, her thoughts painfully traveled through her mind.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Fiction
Pirates Ahead
My grandfather was right about many things. He called the World Series winners many years in a row, how we’d put a man on the moon, Nixon – he knew things, or he was an excellent guesser. His 86 years of experience included both good things and bad, the good things being what he shared with his grandkids. Besides his love of chess, he loved making us laugh. He would take us into his lap and point to his mustache. We’d go to touch it, and he’d pretend to bite our fingers. My father did that, too, come to think of it. We’d break out into a fit of giggles.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Fiction
Game Night
Bunco was quite popular years ago; it gave people (mostly women) a chance to get together and play a simple card came where players move from table to table within the host house to complete points on their card. To me, Bunco involved too many rules and too much math. But the game itself was secondary to the other part of the game; the sense of community, the transmission of gossip, and a shit-ton of food. Some of these groups have continued to do this for years, even decades. These devotees were serious about their game.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Humans
That One Day in the Field
Two acres was the minimum needed to own land in the part of the county where I grew up. Our neighbors had 10 acres, 20, and the area across the “street” was thousands of acres and uninhabited because it was part of a vast well field that supplied water to a big city an hour south of us. We were secluded and may not have had the same kind of fun as the other kids in our small-town school had. We certainly didn’t go trick-or-treating, watch cable, or go to the movies.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Confessions
The Final Flight
I first thought it was a mausoleum, but it’s called a columbarium. There are niches within these miniature buildings that hold the ashes of loved ones. Some of them are large buildings with stained glass windows and hundreds of niches, and some are small stand-alones dotting the cemetery landscape. Both my parents were interred in one of these on August 4th at Floral Memory Gardens in Dade City after my mother passed away in July, seven years after my father.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Families
