Writing
Someone recently asked me about my "writing story." I never have given that a lot of thought, to be honest, and I gave a rather short response. So when a day or two later, I received an email writing prompt, asking me the very same question, I thought maybe I need to sit up and take notice.
I remember learning to write my ABC's, sitting in my daddy's lap.
I also remember my first grade teacher, Miss Randall, teaching me to read -- what a GIFT she gave me! During the summer between 2nd and 3rd grades, my classmate Cathy and I wrote letters to each other. (Darn, I wish I still had those letters, they'd be a hoot to read!) As I grew older, I had several "pen pals" -- a couple of friends who moved away, a friend I met at the beach, an airmail penpal from Germany, and another one from Sweden.
I always enjoyed reading and writing in school; my favorite English assignments always dealt with creative writing or story-telling.
I kept journals and diaries sporadically throughout my life. Usually, when life was confusing or upsetting, I could find some type of therapy in writing things down. It just felt good to write out what I was thinking or feeling, then put a period at the end of the sentence and move on.
A trip to England in 1997 pushed me to keep a diary of the trip. Later I was able to add photos and other mementos together with the diary for a pretty neat scrapbook. Another trip to UK in 2001 resulted in a similar book.
In 2001, I made a huge leap of faith and went to Ghana, West Africa, on a mission trip. Again -- I kept a diary but this one became much more intensely focused on my feelings and emotions. The trip had a profound impact on my life; ultimately, I returned to Ghana six more times. The diaries from my first two trips eventually morphed into a book that I self-published called "TWO WATCHES: The Extraordinary Call of an Ordinary Woman." (It is currently out of print, but on my to-do list for this year is to re-publish it! Stay tuned!)
I started this blog several years ago. It was a place I could write out my feelings and experiences. There have been times when I wrote a great deal; there are also a few gaps here and there. Hey when the muse visits, you entertain her; when the muse is absent, you just try to find her. Or tempt her out with a few cat treats.
In my closet are several notebooks, filled with scribbles and some really bad poetry. Those got me through some pretty rough days, a divorce, lonely times, and many messy philosophical questions.
People can disappoint you. Looks can fade. Money doesn't rest for very long in my bank account before it flies out to pay my bills. With a notebook and pens, a laptop computer, or even a napkin and pencil, I've learned that writing will never let me down, as I've scribbled my way through this life.
I remember learning to write my ABC's, sitting in my daddy's lap.
I also remember my first grade teacher, Miss Randall, teaching me to read -- what a GIFT she gave me! During the summer between 2nd and 3rd grades, my classmate Cathy and I wrote letters to each other. (Darn, I wish I still had those letters, they'd be a hoot to read!) As I grew older, I had several "pen pals" -- a couple of friends who moved away, a friend I met at the beach, an airmail penpal from Germany, and another one from Sweden.
I kept journals and diaries sporadically throughout my life. Usually, when life was confusing or upsetting, I could find some type of therapy in writing things down. It just felt good to write out what I was thinking or feeling, then put a period at the end of the sentence and move on.
A trip to England in 1997 pushed me to keep a diary of the trip. Later I was able to add photos and other mementos together with the diary for a pretty neat scrapbook. Another trip to UK in 2001 resulted in a similar book.
In 2001, I made a huge leap of faith and went to Ghana, West Africa, on a mission trip. Again -- I kept a diary but this one became much more intensely focused on my feelings and emotions. The trip had a profound impact on my life; ultimately, I returned to Ghana six more times. The diaries from my first two trips eventually morphed into a book that I self-published called "TWO WATCHES: The Extraordinary Call of an Ordinary Woman." (It is currently out of print, but on my to-do list for this year is to re-publish it! Stay tuned!)
I started this blog several years ago. It was a place I could write out my feelings and experiences. There have been times when I wrote a great deal; there are also a few gaps here and there. Hey when the muse visits, you entertain her; when the muse is absent, you just try to find her. Or tempt her out with a few cat treats.
In my closet are several notebooks, filled with scribbles and some really bad poetry. Those got me through some pretty rough days, a divorce, lonely times, and many messy philosophical questions.
Across the years, I occasionally entered local Writing Contests. I usually placed with my entries, and I received a great deal of encouragement from other writers. I entered one national contest, through Writer's Digest, and won 5th place with my short story.
People can disappoint you. Looks can fade. Money doesn't rest for very long in my bank account before it flies out to pay my bills. With a notebook and pens, a laptop computer, or even a napkin and pencil, I've learned that writing will never let me down, as I've scribbled my way through this life.
*** *** *** *** ***
Untethered Time Travel: LOVE LETTERS
It is 1960.
I am 4 years old.
My daddy and mama taught me to write my ABC's. I had a fat red pencil, and paper with blue lines on it. Daddy or Mama would tell me to draw a tent, then draw a stick across the middle "to prop it up."
That was an "A". There are 2 A's in ANITA.
I loved to write!!
I loved to practice, and learned to spell my name and a few other words.
(By the time I was in first grade, I was writing fairly well.)
I also loved Evelyn's boyfriend, Don.
Don was smart, handsome, funny, and told GREAT stories!
I loved to listen to him -- he could make everyone laugh!
He was serving in the US Marine Corps, stationed far away.
Evelyn mentioned that she had a letter from him, and was going to write one back to him soon. I guess I must have asked her if I could write him a letter, too, because I remember sitting in her lap, and we were writing him Love Letters.
*** *** *** It is 1961, and I am 5 years old.
Don and Evelyn are getting married! Her Love Letter worked!
But so did mine!
I have a Very Important Wedding Job!
I am wearing a pretty red satin brocade dress with a matching hat and veil,
and carrying a little basket of flowers.
I am the Flower Girl.
You KNOW they could not get married without ME!!
I am 4 years old.
My daddy and mama taught me to write my ABC's. I had a fat red pencil, and paper with blue lines on it. Daddy or Mama would tell me to draw a tent, then draw a stick across the middle "to prop it up."
That was an "A". There are 2 A's in ANITA.
I loved to write!!
I loved to practice, and learned to spell my name and a few other words.
(By the time I was in first grade, I was writing fairly well.)
One night my mom's first cousin Evelyn visited us.
I loved Evelyn -- she and her sisters Nancy & Joyce always doted on me, making me feel like a very special and loved little girl! I also loved Evelyn's boyfriend, Don.
Don was smart, handsome, funny, and told GREAT stories!
I loved to listen to him -- he could make everyone laugh!
He was serving in the US Marine Corps, stationed far away.
Evelyn mentioned that she had a letter from him, and was going to write one back to him soon. I guess I must have asked her if I could write him a letter, too, because I remember sitting in her lap, and we were writing him Love Letters.
*** *** *** It is 1961, and I am 5 years old.
Don and Evelyn are getting married! Her Love Letter worked!
But so did mine!
I have a Very Important Wedding Job!
I am wearing a pretty red satin brocade dress with a matching hat and veil,
and carrying a little basket of flowers.
I am the Flower Girl.
You KNOW they could not get married without ME!!
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