Margaret Brennan
Bio
I am a 78-year old grandmother who loves to write, fish, and grab my camera to capture the beautiful scenery I see around me.
My husband and I found our paradise in Punta Gorda Florida where the weather always keeps us guessing.
Stories (591)
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FISH ON
It was a calm, clear, warm, and sunny Saturday in May of 2020. We decided to go fishing. My husband and I are avid anglers and look forward to being on the water as often as possible. While I have other commitments that prevent me going as often as I’d like, he has many friends that are as eager as he is.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Journal
The Last Goodbye
We arrived in Florida in January of 2012 and getting my mom settled into her room was faster and easier than expected. My husband was a significant help in setting up the rented hospital bed and dismantling the one we originally had in the bedroom. We reorganized the closet and placed mom’s belongings in it. Our home is one-story, and mom’s room was situated in a part of the house where she needed to turn left as she exited and then a right into the great room. It didn’t take her long to remember how to navigate from one place to another.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Families
The Big Surprise
Sometimes keeping a secret is the hardest thing to do. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying my husband is nosy. He doesn’t pry into what I do or when I do it. He understands that there are things I do that just don’t concern him and he’s happy with that.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Families
Charley
Friday, August 13, 4:10pm “Babe, don’t listen to them. Look at the TV screen, but don’t look at them. Look at the upper left corner. Look at the coordinates!” my husband said anxiously. He stood there, in the center of the living room, but down here in Florida, it’s called the great room. He was mesmerized, his eyes wide with shock, looking as though he was too frightened to move. I’d never seen him look so worried. No not worried! Scared! I never thought my husband to be afraid of anything.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Earth
The Lost Wind
Boys will be boys! Isn’t that the adage? Adage or not, it’s sometimes enough to drive a mother crazy. While we didn’t live in the part of the city occupied by tall skyscrapers or high-rise apartment buildings, our town was still considered to be within the city limits – meaning that our parks opened at seven in the morning and closed at dusk unless the city was holding a special community event.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Fiction
