Neighborhood / Writer's Workshop


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  • Flowers

    Delores Kriete, Cheney Free Press|Updated Jun 5, 2024

    Lilac Festival was in Spokane a couple weeks ago. The lilacs are blooming with their sweet smell. The first weekend in May is the Apple Blossom Festival in Wenatchee. When the orchards are in full bloom in Wenatchee with the fruit blossoms, the landscape looks like a blanket of lace has been thrown over the orchards. I grew up in Olympia and at Easter, the Capitol Grounds are adorned with cherry blossom trees. They are just ornamental cherry blossoms, but they are beautiful. Growing up, my dad loved flowers and ornamental...

  • Freedom of Worship

    LISA CONGER, Cheney Free Press|Updated May 29, 2024

    At the top of Norman Rockwell’s “Freedom of Worship” is this phrase inscribed in the illustration: “Each according to the dictates of his conscience.” Light and shadow play across the faces in profile, as each looks prayerful, or contemplative, at peace, even. Nary an angel or a devil perches on their shoulders- symbolic notions depicting competing perspectives of good and evil. In petition to Jesus, or Yaweh, Allah or the Buddha, or in prayer to the Great Spirit, the Universe, or meditation of nature, each person has choic...

  • Girl - independent, free-spirited

    Venus Bratsveen, Cheney Free Press|Updated May 22, 2024

    I will always enjoy being called a girl. There are some who f ind the term girl, as referred to a woman, demeaning. When I think about it, however; I was never as free as I was when just a girl. I don’t find the term insulting. It is inclusive of all the generations of femalehood. (I may have just made that word up, but you get my meaning.) We go from playing with Barbies to side-eye ing boys to obsessing over men to caring for children and finally to enjoying our independence again. That’s not to say an adult woman doe...

  • Red Tulips

    Carol Beason, Cheney Free Press|Updated May 15, 2024

    One early spring morning, two springs ago, I looked out my back window and noticed a red flower in my garden, peeking above a boulder, trying to get my attention.  Now how did that get there?  I know that I didn’t plant a red plant anywhere.  I put on my shoes and strolled to the middle of my yard. Out by the blooming Dogwood I discovered a lone, red tulip, dipping and swaying in the gentle breeze, waltzing in a juvenile dance of joy, nodding to the early morning sun, delighted just to be in this world.  “Well, good mornin...

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