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 (600)
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Dancing The Night Away
I guess we all have our little quirks. After all, it is what makes life interesting. For instance, I love to write. Yet, I have some friends who have a problem composing a simple letter to a friend. There are some that can’t get the knack for taking pictures. They just hate trying to figure out all the buttons on a camera. I have friends who excel at picture taking. Their photos are phenomenal. I have friends who can dance like professionals and some like me, who struggle to get my feet coordinated with my brain.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Humans
My Little Friend
How time flies! It seems like only yesterday, I was about five years old living in Brooklyn with my parents and siblings. I thought we had all the time in the world to discover new things. Now, here I am in my seventies, living in Florida, and trying to survive on my social security benefit.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Fiction
Patiently Impatient
Like most people I know, I can be a very patient person, however, I can and often will find myself to be impatient. You could also use the word intolerant because while they are different in definition and emotion, they often go hand in hand.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Humans
I've Got That Sinking Feeling
Anyone living on the water can tell you about tides, winds, and the combination of both. Squalls are a common occurrence when living on the water. To be more accurate, squalls can happen anywhere. If you look up the definition of squall, you’ll see that it is a sudden and violent gust of wind or worse - a localized storm that brings heavy precipitation.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Earth
Frustration or Euphoria, maybe a bit of both
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Melody laughed. “Really?” she said sarcastically. “And how would they, or anyone, for that matter, with us being so many thousand miles away from earth?”
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Fiction
Heavenly Target Practice
I’m quite sure many of you have been to the old-fashioned bizarre/carnivals with all their little games. You know the ones: toss a bean bag, knock down three sand-filled dolls, and win a prize; throw three darts, break three balloons, and win a stuffed animal; toss three rings around empty glass bottles, and win a prize. So many games, so few winners.
By Margaret Brennan4 years ago in Fiction
