Donna's Muse Papers

  During the stay-at-home months of 2020 I began writing my recently released novel, My Neighbors from the Woods. The story is inspired by one I read decades ago when I first started reading bigfoot stories on the Internet. It was about a woman who lived somewhere in the mountains and claimed to have developed a friendship with a family of bigfoot. I could not find that particular story when I began to work on my book. But it seems there are many similar stories making the rounds online and on YouTube channels. My “research” involved listening to many such channels and following social media bigfoot pages.   But my interest in the hairy man, aka bigfoot, started a long time ago, when I was much younger. What piqued my interest were stories I first heard from my daddy. He listened to ‘talk radio” at night and he’d retell the stories he heard over breakfast in the mornings. That had to have been in the late 50s. I also remember Daddy talking about a wild man that lived back in the

It’s been a year since we got the warning about a deadly virus spreading throughout the world. We were told to stay home, wash our hands, keep our distance from one another, and then to wear a mask whenever we were forced to go out for food, medical needs, and other necessary reasons. It was scary. But as time went on, we humans learned to adapt and carry on with life as best and safely as we could. We found ways to be with family and friends outdoors and to give air-hugs. Shopping online with grocery delivery and curb-side pickup was offered by most stores. Since I have lived alone for almost thirty years, I had an advantage in the adjustment curve. It all started in March 2020. It was soon warm enough to host outdoor visits from family and friends. Then with my writers group we set up a Facebook page for sharing our writing for critique, while gathering at a nearby state park to enjoy some social time every few weeks. Looking back over the past year I realized I could list qui

 My paternal grandparents, Gaga and Pom Pom, lived on a little farm in Athens. Pennsylvania. Pom Pom raised chickens and had a big garden. We visited every summer for our vacation. The chickens were especially fascinating for me, an animal lover from the get-go. Gaga let me help her collect eggs, which was a big adventure to me. Sometimes a hen would still be sitting on her nest and I would call Gaga for help. I was afraid of being pecked. I also followed my grandfather to the garden to “help.” He was especially proud of his tomatoes, but my favorite thing was helping pick the raspberries he grew. He’d laugh and tell me not to eat too many or their wouldn’t be enough for Gaga’s raspberry cobbler. One summer I took a fancy to a little hen. I don’t know why? I asked Pom Pom if I could have her for a pet. He said yes and I was thrilled. I named her Penny, probably from the story Henny Penny. I was less thrilled to have to leave her behind when we went home. We lived in town and in a

  Snow Mama, Daddy, Claudia, and I packed into the car and headed north from North Carolina. We were on our way to spend the Christmas holidays with “The Folks Up Home,” Daddy’s family. As I remember, there was always snow. Maybe that’s not so, but it is how I remember it. On one of those trips in particular, we got caught in a snowstorm; maybe it was a blizzard. We got stuck in snow and Daddy had to get out to dig us free. He slipped and fell, sliding underneath the car. I can still remember the fear in Mama’s voice as she called out to him. He managed to get back up and dig us out of the snow. As we neared Towanda, Pa. we were fortunate to get behind a cinder truck that was spreading ash from furnaces on the road for better traction. We were able to follow it all the way to our destination. In Daddy’s words, “We would never had made it over that hill if it had not been for being behind that truck.” My sister and I, being little kids and unaware of the danger, were enthralled