My son Matt and I pulled away from the house we had called home for the past fifteen years. It was the only home Matt remembered and a home that I loved. We had come back over spring break to finish emptying out the house and to complete our move to Colorado. Continue reading
The day and year that I really grew up was definitely an important experience. One that I would have forgone forever. This was the day that my dad passed away. He was only sixty-two years old, died of a heart attack, and left his family reeling in shock and dismay. Continue reading
I was never much of a flirt in grade school. I was the youngest of three girls and I had no experience talking with my male classmates. They made me nervous and scared me to death. Continue reading
I remember several childhood grade school memories, so, where to start?
The first one I recall was I was in kindergarten, it was Armistice Day, and of course, I had no idea what that meant. I went to Wilson School and had just recently moved to the north end of town. This meant I had to take a bus from school to home. Continue reading
I had a few traumatic events happen to me during my grade school years. Both events were a result of my teachers and had a significant impact on my feelings about those years. Continue reading
Thank God I’m a grown-ass woman AND no longer a teacher. Do you know what that means? No. more. recess! I don’t get in trouble (or get others in trouble) anymore.
I’ve always hated recess. I’ve written before about spending a snowy recess with Mary and Mr. Fry in the boiler room here. But that isn’t the only time I purposely skipped out on recess…
I was in First Grade. My First-grade classroom was on the lower level of the building, closest to the boiler room, Mrs. Goetz was my teacher. We had been working on something when the announcement was made that it was almost recess time. But only students that were done with their work would be allowed to go out. I was done with my work, but Sean and Rochelle would need to stay in. Continue reading
I have done a lot of babysitting in my life. I was never scared or terrified while babysitting or of the dark, until I saw the movie “The Babysitter”. Continue reading
When I was in my late twenties, I discovered self-help books. The first book of this type that I read was called “Your Erroneous Zones” and was written by Dr. Wayne Dyer. To be honest, my friends had told me the title was “Your Erogenous Zones” and the title piqued my interest. Continue reading
Back in the early 1980s, a book was published called “Color Me Beautiful”. The inside flap of the book states “Using simple guidelines, professional color consultant Carole Jackson helps you choose the thirty shades that make you look smashing. COLOR ME BEAUTIFUL will also help you: develop your color personality; learn to perfect your make-up color; discover your clothing personality; use color to solve specific figure problems, and more, including full-color palettes containing the thirty shades for each season–pages you can cut out to carry when you shop!” Continue reading
What makes someone a reader?
Doesn’t everyone love stories?
I think I was born loving books. In Beaver Dam, I loved the old stuffy, overheated public library when I was a child. The wide entrance stairway led to a foyer where you could go left to the adult area. Or, you could turn right and go up a creaky flight of stairs to the children’s room. It held a vague feeling of…expectation. Continue reading
