I was happy with what I accomplished in art class. I juggled my watercolor palette, paints and the picture I had begun—blue daisies on a white background. My arms were so full that I had to set some things down in order to unlock the door of my car. I spent the afternoon running errands […]
Daisies in the Parking Lot Read More »
Was I born to do this? To find an audience? To tell my story, any story? Or did I come to storytelling by way of heritage? Because I am my father’s daughter? Because he told stories? I must have an audience or storytelling isn’t—no can’t happen. I volunteer in my children’s school classes. I step
Was I Born to Do This? Read More »
Taking out the trash was a mundane task for me, but as I walked past the persimmon tree, a choir of birds prompted me to look up. The bare branches of the persimmon tree with tiny leaf buds waiting to unfurl was covered with a crowd of tiny birds twittering and singing. Each bird sang
I am glad that I participated in the A to Z Blogging Challenge this year. I appreciate Stuart Nager who told me about the challenge and encouraged me as I began. Although I do not know them personally, I appreciate all of the people who worked so hard to make this a success for me and
You know those melodramas where the villain threatens the heroine and then the hero appears to save her. It’s good fiction, right? Well, supposing that really happened? It might have. Except Zelda had to save herself. It happened long ago in 1933. After the death of her mother, Zelda lived with her married sister. Her
We were the sixth graders—the oldest kids in the Maeser School. When plans were announced for the end of the school year field day, we knew that our part had to be the biggest and the best. Each class was to choose a state and make a float for the parade. Naturally, we chose Texas.
Yellow Rose of Texas – April 29 Read More »
Xasparilla was getting old. She was now a faded red and her paint was starting to peel. The time for a repaint job had arrived. In fact, it was overdue. Now she would be painted for the third time. It was 1989 when I began painting ladybug rocks. Every rock was given a name. Sometimes
Xasparilla – April 28 Read More »
“Would you be willing to do the flowers for my grandson’s wedding?” my sister asked. I didn’t need to hesitate. I had made the bouquets, boutonnieres, and corsages for my daughters’ weddings. “I can do that,” I said. I went to Hobby Lobby with my sister, the bride, and other interested friends to get silk
Wedding – April 27 Read More »
“The Magic Brush” is a folk tale from China. Years ago, I developed my own telling of this story. I put a green brocade robe on the old Chinese gentleman who gave Ma Lien a magic brush. I also described the old gentleman has having a flowing white beard. At the end of the story
Veritable – April 26 Read More »
A small brown bird sat on a post near my front yard. I listened to his cheerful little song. When he finished the last note, I spoke. “I like your little song.” He cocked his head and trilled a few more notes before stopping again. I spoke once more. He cocked his head, looked at
Interacting with Nature Read More »
