Kris Radish - Gravel on the Side of the Road: True stories from a broad who has been there

True Stories from a Broad Who Has Been There

Kris Radish

SparkPress, a BookSparks imprint

A division of SparkPoint Studio, LLC

Fiction:

The Elegant Gathering of White Snows

Dancing Naked at the Edge of Dawn

Annie Freemans Fabulous Traveling Funeral

Searching for Paradise in Parker, PA

The Sunday List of Dreams

The Shortest Distance Between Two Women

Hearts on a String

Tuesday Night Miracles

A Grand Day to Get Lost

Non-Fiction:

Run, Bambi, Run: The Beautiful Ex-Cop and Convicted Murderer Who Escaped to Freedom and Won Americas Heart

The Birth Order Effect: How to Better Understand Yourself and Others

This one has been a long time coming and is for all those brave hearts and souls who opened their lives to me and trusted me to tell their stories. I have never forgotten you and remain grateful for your trust.

Praise for Kris Radish

Through the women in her popular novels, author Kris Radish reveals what has value and meaning in her lifefriendships and a passion for living.

Albuquerque Journal

Radish unrolls a rollicking yet reflective read that adds to her robust repertoire of beloved fiction. Whats a reader to do but relish the ride.

BookPage on Searching for Paradise in Parker, PA

Kris Radish creates characters that seek and then celebrate the discovery of womens innate power.

The Denver Post

In Radishs book, everything takes on a meaning that is larger than life Radishs books are also a little like the cliff-hangers of the 1920s, with one page pulling you to the next.

Lansing City Pulse

Radishs characters know how to have a good time on their way to matriarchal nirvana.

Kirkus Reviews

A funny and provocative attempt to nudge numb, stagnant, and confused souls into a new direction.

Capital Times

Slyly comic Radish is a good writer to get to know, creator of terrific characters and warm and tangled relationships and a world thats a pleasure to visit.

Sullivan County Democrat

A rallying cry for the empowerment of women. Radishs book is also a celebration of the strong bond that exists between female friends.

Booklist

COPYRIGHT 2014 BY KRIS RADISH

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Published by SparkPress, a BookSparks imprint,

A division of SparkPoint Studio, LLC

Tempe, Arizona, USA, 85281

www.sparkpointstudio.com

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN: 978-1-940716-43-5 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-1-940716-42-8 (ebk)

Cover design Julie Metz Ltd./metzdesign.com

Cover art by Plain Picture

Author photo Alison Rosa

Formatting by Polgarus Studio

Names and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect the privacy of certain individuals.

Ordinary is often very extraordinary but experiences in this realm are usually overlooked. Although my life has been far from ordinary, many of my experiences are just thatwonderfully ordinary.

A touch of a babys hand, the line of light fading into the arms of darkness at twilight, the first time you realize you love someone, the moment your child reaches out in a gesture of simple fondness that breaks your heart with the weight of emotion.

That is life. Your life. My life. All our lives.

My life also continues to be extraordinary. I am a writer, an author, and a journalist who prods the folds of the world for every piece of life that I can swallow. I have been to war in Bosnia and held the hands of dying babies. I have walked the often-tense lines between being totally objective and making certain someone knows I am a human being. People have tried to kill me and rape me and push me off cliffs. I have fallen from the sky and landed on the shoulders of hundreds of goddesses.

All these stories, all the times that I have danced with the FBI and held hands with the worlds underbelly, have added to the vitality of my own spirit. These experiences, no matter how small, have helped me move from one phase of my life to the next and have helped me maintain my stride. That is what I call extraordinary.

These stories, some of them written a very long time ago, are the ones that have risen to the top, the pieces of my life puzzle that needed telling and sharing immediatelyperhaps a beginning memoir. There are other stories, simmering just below the surface that will rise soon, and even more that are forming around me and inside of me at this very moment.

I struggled for a long time trying to decide if I should publish these pieces of my life. Some of these stories were written when I was physically and emotionally a different woman. That also means I was a different writer. In the end it simply seemed foolish to hide them away. Reallywhat the hell!

In a few stories I have changed namesto protect the seemingly innocent and myselfand these are my remembrances. They belong to me and now to you. I am far from perfect and you may think the stories are far from perfectbut here they are.

In many instances my life has changed drastically since I wrote these pieces. I have been married, and divorced, my children have left the nest, I have moved several times, Ive become a full-time novelist, Ive leapt into, and then out of menopauseand yet, Im still Kris Radish.

In these words and with these stories I hope you can find a part of yourself. Because even though we may have never metyou are a part of me and in the cosmic rules of life that I followI am a part of you. We laugh and cry and feel, and there are moments, every day when we pause to watch the horizon at the exact same time.

Think of that, and of me, when you imagine your own life as ordinary. Nothing could be further from the truth because there is no one like you, no one like me, no one like us.

Kris Radish

The road to my mountain cabin is a curving snake of a thing that graces me with views of winding streams lined with fields of watercress, edges of mountains that reach out to caress my eyelids, and intoxicating smells of sage and pine that make me feel like a staggering drunk.

My legs are made of rubber each night as I approach the huge metal gate that keeps the world away from the buildings I am hired to guard as a caretaker after my other job as a journalist is over for the day. This feeling is a combination of too much work and the boozy feeling that erupts like sudden gunfire with a simple glimpse of my gorgeous environment.

No one is ever at the lonely gate, which is much larger than the antique car I drive. I paddle up these hills in a fading blue Datsun that I can often outrun but I always manage to make it. Sometimes when I am alone, I push open the gate and hop onto its wooden edges, swing my hand into the air, and it is as if I am riding a wild pony. When I tilt my head back, I see mountain ridges, shades of western blue sky, and a canopy of green that heightens my already woozy senses. Sometimes I see dancing deer. When they try to sneak past the gate they are always high-stepping and if they were whispering in human speak they would say, Shes nuts, you guys. Just walk quietly and we will slip past her before she even knows we are here. Once, I swear to God, a cougar jumped the entire width of the road and I memorized its track and my wild-man friend, who knew every animal in the world, told me yes, that was a cougar.

Tonight there is a car waiting at the gate. It is a black Thunderbird totally out of place in this world of beat-up trucks and foreign cars that are normally used for target practice and I am torn between backing up and seeing who the hell is at the gate.