Slow down, time!

 

Nicholas and Nicole

Nana's sweethearts have grown up. They are 18 and 24. Nicole just graduated. Nick sat next to me at the graduation ceremony. 

I so appreciate them now that they are adults. Nick had me in stitches laughing at his work stories and adventures. He is as outspoken as his dad, my son, and his mom, my daughter-in-law who have reared wonderful children. A job well done! 

 I cannot believe how fast the years have flown. I look back on his baby days, his school days, and now his work days. I am proud of him and his work ethic, his devotion to family, God, friends. 

He has to travel frequently, but when he is in town and stops by, I so enjoy our converstaions on every topic you can imagine. He is open-minded and honest and not afraid to stand up for himself. 

Nick and Nic, two of my blessings.

Our grands are spread all over now. I love it when we get together.

We are all in this together

 Three of my writer friends have been published recently or have had multiple stories accepted. I am thrilled for them. 

Someone asked if I was upset because my work was not selected. Absolutely not. Disappointed, sure, but I am happy for my fellow writers.

Rejection is seldom about the writer, and more about the editorial needs of the publications. I have always considered this to be part of the process of freelance writing. 

Will I lay low for a while? You mean wallow? Give up? No not at all. I will write, edit, and submit 5-7 pieces per month, as usual.

How do YOU handle rejection?

My dear just offered to buy lunch. Please come back. I will be gathering information and observing characters... fodder for another story or post.

 

First graduation to most recent

My how time flies! Seems only yesterday granddaughter Nicole was in my preschool class excelling in everything she attempted. Molly was her best friend, and Nicole declared at four that when she grew up she was going to be a singer and change her name to Molly Rose. Maybe down the line she will, but so far she has been a wonderful writer, sensational singer, magnificent mathemetician, acclaimed artist, and forever friend to CeCe who she grew up with. 

She has been a delightful daughter, and best "heart" installer in the stuffies she sells at Build-a Bear where she works.

I have been journaling and including photos of her in a scrap book notebook since she was born. I will give the memory journal to her at her graduation party next week along with a gift. My little doll has grown into a beautiful young lady.

She and Papa Bill used to pretend they were cat & dog puppets using just their hands. "Woof Woof, meow meow" ... until they drove me crazy, then they would laugh out loud.

She and I had so many fun experiences in preschool. I loved teaching her and watching her grow and learn. 
                         

Look at Nana's girl now. She graduated high school and will be heading to university in the fall to study finance and business. I am so proud of her. She received awards and medals, and a special dainty keepsake bracelet from me for a job well done. 

I feel privileged to have been a part of her life. I feel blessed. Indeed.

He's no Ninja Turtle. He's my hero.

 

I drove around the corner onto a side street with little traffic. A dinner-plate-size, yellow-bellied turtle was in my lane trying to cross the road. I stopped the car. Bill, who has a bad back, achy knees, and uses a cane, said, "You are going to cause a wreck over a turtle." Then he slid out of the passenger seat, bent down, and plopped that big guy in tall grass far from the road.

Bill is no teenager. He's no mutant. He's no Ninja, (like that kid's show with a team of do gooders,) The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but my honey is MY HERO!

When I was a child, baby turtles the size of quarters or half-dollar coins, could be purchased as pets from dime stores. Sales were discontuinued when it was discovered they carried samonella.

When my son was about eight, he rescued a box turtle from the country. He named it Speedy, because that critter could make it to the back gate in a flash. A few weeks later we returned it to the original spot where it was found. 

It is advised that you not relocate turtles to new areas, even if you think their current location is odd (unless it is obviously hazardous, such as a busy parking lot). Moving them to an unfamiliar location can subject them to foreign diseases and parasites that they lack a natural immunity to, so that should be avoided.

Did you know a group of turtles is called a bale or a dole. Ever seen a group piled on a log?

OHH, Say Can YOU Sing?

 This picture was taken seven years ago when Charlie was a red-headed baby and knew exactly what he did and didn't want. He didn't want to take his nap. 

I look a bit ragged because I was exhausted from babysitting three little boys, my great grandsons, 1, 2, and 5 years old. 

I was trying to get Charlie down for a nap, but nothing was working. So I began to sing, You Are My Sunshine.

He covered my mouth to hush me. When he dropped his hand, I sang, and he put his chubby little hand right back. Was it cause and effect? Nope, he really didn't like my singing. 

In 7th grade the music teacher asked each student to sing the scales so she could assign us to groups. I am an alto, but tried singing soprano. She assigned me to the soprano group, and as soon as I joined in singing she stopped and said, "WHO is it that can't carry a tune?!" All eyes looked at me, and if
Mrs. Wilson could have, she would have covered my mouth, just like baby Charlie did.

Just because I cannot carry a tune, that didn't stop me from singing along to the patriotic songs televised on PBS for Memorial Day. 

Bumper stickers, tattoos, and chest messages

 These days it seems tattoos speak for those who are inked. You can learn a lot about the person simply by reading arms, legs, necks, chests, basically any visible body part. Warning: craning your neck can cause a "crick."

Long ago, when bumper stickers were popular, if you drove through neighborhoods you could get a feel for the areas: political climate, median age, sports team preferences, who was a peacenik and who was confrontational. Braggerts boasted their kid was smarter than the other person's. You could count how many family members and pets a household had by the amount of stick figures were posted on rear vehicle windows. Heck you could even discover who was recently divorced, had a baby on board, or owned dogs and cats.

It is one thing to announce your preferences, affiliations, and irritants while driving. But proclaiming your "issues" across your chest, in my opinion, makes you a marked man or woman.

Dads will soon be recieving T shirts imprinted with humorous, loving, or sports team slogans. Nine out of ten will puff out their chest wearing shirts indicating they are THE WORLD'S BEST.

But the older guy (at the buffet) wearing the shirt above imprinted with this message might as well be wearing flashing yellow caution lights.

I asked permission to take a photo of his shirt. He looked at me for a long uncomfortable thirty seconds and said, "Yeah, okay, but it IS true."
I had no doubt. 

I showed him I did not breach his privacy by posting his face.

If Tables Could Talk

 As a writer I am always intuned to conversations going on around me, details, and mannerisms of people nearby.

There is an adage, "If walls could talk."

I was waiting for a friend on an outdoor patio at Panera, known as Bread Company in St. Louis, because it was the original, and we locals still call it Bread Co.

As I waited, I observed two different couples. 

The first was a middle age woman with a fake tan and rings on every finger splaying rainbow prisms in the sunshine. She greeted a man whose face was etched with life's struggles. She gave him a hard stare, yanked her shirt, showed him her midriff, and barked two words: "GUNSHOT WOUND."  

Next to them was an elderly couple. He took her hand and offered a ring box. She shook her head NO. His face sagged; hers crumbled. She also said two words: "SOCIAL SECURITY."

I do not know the details of their lives, but as a writer you can infer from listening to conversations and observing actions. This was great writing material/prompts. 

Are you an eavesdropper?