Entries by Juliana Aragon Fatula

Mi Chicana Garden

June 23, 2022 mi Chicana Garden Southern Colorado 2022 Dear Reader, It is officially summer, and I spent the solstice riding on a quad runner with mi esposo in the Sangre de Cristos near the cell phone towers at 10,000 feet (about twice the elevation of Denver, Colorado). The air felt thin and caused me […]

Mental Health and the Pandemic by Juliana Aragon Fatula

May 25, 2022 Dear Reader, This year I’ve written book reviews, judged book contests, entered two manuscripts for publishing and started writing a new novel. My writing has been sporadic, and my submissions have been few, but I continue to write and read and do research and learn every day. I’ve been writing for the […]

April 2022 the Year of the Miracle by Juliana

Louise Mondragon Aragon April 7, 1923-December 24, 2008 presente  Dear Reader,  I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but… This is the writing prompt: I’m challenging you to write a page, paragraph, or sentence and tell me your story. I love this prompt because it forces me to think out of the box and be original,  […]

The Letter to My Granddaughters by Juliana Aragon Fatula

Dearest Granddaughters, I’m a mother, an aunt, a great aunt, and a great-great-aunt, but I’m not a Grandmother. Not yet. Maybe never. But my sisters have shared their grandchildren with me and my nieces have shared their grandchildren with me; therefore I am a tia abuelita. This letter is to these granddaughters of other women […]

2021 Survivor’s Notes by Juliana Aragon Fatula

Dear Reader, The smile on my face in my Aspen Grove several years ago shows that I love living in Southern Colorado. What the smile does not show is that living in my hometown of Canon City, aka Klanyon City, has never been easy for me but my grandparents, parents, and several siblings are buried […]

The Search for mi tatarabuela by Juliana Aragón Fatula

2015 Holy Cross Abbey, Canon City, Colorado October 28, 2021    Dear Reader,  October blew in like a hot air balloon on LSD. Whoosh. My lawn chairs down the block at the neighbor’s hootenanny. My golden Aspen leaves blown to smithereens and my wildflower seeds scattered to the wind. Southern Colorado today feels like windy […]