Author Bio

WendyWendy Wolff Blumberg was born in Chicago, Illinois. She and her husband, Stephen, lived in his hometown of Waukegan, Illinois, until they moved to Manhattan Beach, California, in 1970 with their four children and two dogs. Wendy studied poetry with the well-known poet and actor Jack Grapes, in his workshops at Beyond Baroque in Venice, California. In 2012, she and Stephen moved to the retirement community of La Costa Glen in Carlsbad, California, where they live happily and gratefully being with new friends.

March 29, 2014

Hello everyone! This is so new to me, exciting and somewhat overwhelming; but thanks to my daughter, Dina Rose McQueen—my wonderful editor—I am dipping my toes into the 21st Century. Whoo Hoo!

Since this is a Memoir Journal, I’ll relate to you my very first memory! I lived on the second floor of a three-story apartment building. I think I could not have been more than three or four years old. The front door of our apartment opened close to the stairway. One afternoon I was alone in the apartment with our housekeeper, my parents being at work. They had not yet divorced and my father was at his studio painting, my mother working as a social worker at the Jewish Children’ Bureau. This was in Chicago. I remember the apartment was quiet. Our dog, a Scottish terrier who didn’t like me, was asleep under the piano that was near the front door. He was waiting for my mother to return home. When I would get down on my hands and knees to look at him close to his face, he would growl at me. Never bit me though.

Well to get my to my first memory, as Chummy the Scotch terrier was an on going memory—I even had to take him out to do his “business” when I got old enough, which was probably around five or six—Chummy would run off and I would have to chase after him down the street. Life was very different in the l930’s; kids could go out by themselves and no one worried.

Well, to get back to my very first memory—again—I opened the front door of our apartment, looked out at the stairway and the hallway—very dim light—and said to myself: From this time on I am going to remember! And that is my first memory!

Be safe … be well … be happy.

Love, Wendy

March 30, 2014

Hello again, everyone! I just remembered something that occurred at my fourth birthday party. So, opening my apartment door and saying to myself, From this time on I will remember had to have been when I was three or younger.

Anyway, my grandmother made my favorite strawberry ice cream. It was so fantastically delicious. I adored it and it was served at the party. I remember sitting at a rather long rectangular table. All the little friends were seated with me around the table. I don’t remember any of them, except one little boy who sat two seats down from me to my right. As we were eating my grandmother’s incredibly delicious strawberry ice cream, I suddenly heard from my right, “MORE! MORE”. I bent my head to look around the child directly on my right, and there he was, demanding, “MORE MORE”. I remember being furious with this kid; how dare he want more of my precious strawberry ice cream. I wanted it all to myself. At least what was left of it after everyone had been served. This party could have been at the Lincoln Park Zoo’s Pavilion that was rented out for such events like kid’s birthday parties. What has not remained in my memory of my fourth birthday party is: did the little boy get more of my strawberry ice cream? And was there any left for me to take home? Most likely not for both questions!

Be safe … be well … be happy.

Love, Wendy

Johann and Me

March 23, 2014

Making my bed on a Monday
No sun appears through a curtain
Of low clouds
Inland from the sea
The classical music station
Broadcasts just noisy
When it’s music I need
On this gray sunless
I insert a CD
Into the CD player
Preludes and fugues
Of Johann Sebastian Bach
And at this moment for me
It is the sun
Breaking through the clouds
Songs of the wind
The roar of thunder
It is the love     the joy
The beauty from
Channeled through the genius
of a human soul
And the fingers of a man
Who lived on earth
With me

Oh the glory     the magnificence
Of this music
Fills me with the majesty
The wonder of everything
In this world
As the brilliance of
Four centuries later
Brings Johann Sebastian Bach
To Life
I am at


Aleppo, Syria

February 2, 2014

Child of Aleppo
Caught in the earth
Caught in debris
Where a bomb
Hands digging frantically
To release you
As other hands
Brush dirt
Brush dust
From your face
To keep the miracle
Of your breath
While you lie still
Your eyes closed
No whimper     no cry
Could I hear

And then
The cameras follow
To when you stand
Wearing clean clothes
To show the world
This little girl from
Alive and beautiful
As beautiful a child
As ever I have seen

More information about the children caught in the Syrian crisis.