Something you might not have known about me...

When I was little, I loved to read (still do) and write (still do). From the moment I learned to read and write, that was all I did. I was an only child and we lived in the country with no close neighbors. Summers, I read and wrote stories and poems. I can't remember not doing these two things. I even entered and won a contest at the public library. I dreamed of writing a book one day. When I got into high school, I continued my love of reading and writing by taking advanced literature classes and creative writing courses. In college, I wrote for a creative writing magazine and also was an editor in chief for the same magazine another year. I thought about going to The University of Iowa; I even toured the campus, but I was afraid. You had to submit your writing just to get accepted to a class. I didn't think I was good enough.

Also, there was a little matter of having to ride a bus to get to class...

So, anyway, here we are in present day and I occassionally write articles for a newspaper in the town where I work. Funny thing is that these articles are true. Before, I have always read and written fiction. That's what I love. I love to see my writing in print. Must be why blogging appealed to me. I have found, though, that my blog has become more about pictures, than writing. I love photography too.

I would still love to write more one day. But, some days, I feel like I've lost all my creativity. I can write real things; they are happening right now. I still read a lot, but feel like I wouldn't know where to begin to write my own story. Maybe true stories are what I should be thinking about. They seem to come naturally. It's all a work in progress. I'm a work in progress...

What kind of a book would you write if you wrote a book?

So, what have you dreamed about doing or becoming in your life? Do you still dream about it? What's stopping you?...

Random Acts of Kindness

Some of you know that I occasionally write articles for a local newspaper insert for the library. I haven't figured out how to find it online with any consistency to be able to link to them, but I wanted to share a story that I am going to submit to the paper soon. I may edit and embellish a little more for the paper, but this is my article/story that is about something that happened this Christmas season:


Over the Christmas break, I had some teenage girls do some babysitting for me, letting the kids sleep in and stay home and play with their new toys. The night before one of the days we had arranged, the girls’ mother called to let me know that the school had recently scheduled a basketball practice and that it was going to interfere with their babysitting and my work schedule. She went on to assure me that she was willing to step in for her daughter for that one hour time period the practice was going to take her away. Whoa! She was going to come home after having worked her 8 hour day and then “fill in” for her daughter babysitting my three children for me! How kind is that?
I was, however, instantly stressed. If she only knew how messy my house was…Having her teenage daughter come to my house is one thing, but having a full time working mother of three of her own children come into my house is entirely another. How embarrassing. It was already close to bedtime when she called, so in the morning I quickly tried to straighten up the house. You know, piling a bunch of stuff on my bed and shutting the bedroom door, leaving a blanket in the middle of the floor that needed vacuuming and doing a load of dishes and laundry. I made sure to tell the kids to be good and asked the girl babysitting to try and not make any other huge messes because I felt “funny” having her mom come to my house and babysit. Off to work I went.
Later in the day, my husband calls to let me know he made it home and “boy the house is sure clean.” I asked who did it and he said well not me. Oh no! Not only did my babysitter’s mom come to my house, but she cleaned it too!!! I was so embarrassed. But, when I walked in the door to my home, it was so refreshing to see a clean floor and a picked up living/dining room. It was such a little thing to make me feel so good. And she wasn’t even there for that long, an hour or less. As I’ve told this story to my co-workers, I’ve come to see it for what it was, a random act of kindness. She wasn’t worried about my mess or the fact that she was at my house babysitting, she was just taking the time she had to give me something, to help me out.
There’s a country song about the kindness of strangers and how one kind act of helping someone change a tire led to a huge tip for a waitress that was pregnant and down on her luck, but smiling nonetheless…Anyway, my point here is: Pass on a random act of kindness. You’ll be surprised how good it makes you feel and how great it makes the recipient feel.