I live in St. Louis, MO, but my heart and soul hang out at the beach. I am a multi-genre, award winning writer, and speaker. I am a seasoned pre-k teacher, on line writing instructor, wife, mother, Nana to twelve. Hopefully, something I say will make you smile, further your writing career, or inspire you to write from the heart, too.
I have been heartbroken over losing so many friends to cancer. Claudia passed away recently. She was a writer friend who lived in Carthage, MO. Claudia touched many lives. I have her blog listed on my blog's side bar. I was considering deleting it.
I've changed my mind. Every time I look at it, I am reminded of her sweet nature, our personal emails, our connection. I can scroll back and read her posts, hear her "voice," and view photos of trips she and her husband made. The old West called to her and many of her stories were western-themed. I found this poem she sent me in March and have decided she is right... we must keep her.
Claudia's following poem is reassurance that she lives on in our memories...
as she wished.
Cancer will change me,
but the world will still
turn, turn, turn.
Cancer will wreck me,
but it won’t steal the
green from spring grass.
Cancer will stop me, end
but it won’t shake the
of summer under a
Cancer will silent my
voice but not
my name on the lips of
Speak often and
repeatedly of me and I shall continue to live.
Happy birthday to my son, Jason, who has a heart as big as the sky. He is always joking around with his kids, wife, and ME. When I least expect it, he taps my shoulder, jumps out, acts silly, then says, "Who me? What?!" Playfulness keeps us young.
Forty-four years ago, my belly was as big as an inflated beach ball. Every Sunday before he was born, we took a drive to the country, and I hiked to the top of a tree-covered hillside, my favorite exercise to this day.
Since he was born, Jason has made me proud, worried me gray, and given me wrinkles and smile lines, depending upon how many wheels he was riding around on. I think his first word was, "Vroom." If he could have, he would have been a moto-cross driver.
Ten years ago Nicole was born two days after her daddy's birthday. She is quite the artist and creates fantastic fashion designs. I have a notion she is going places in the fashion industry. She is still sweet and innocent, Nana's girl! Happy birthday, baby girl.
You can't imagine how many Halloween-themed birthday cakes I have made over the years.
week, Liam, who was three in June, asked me if we were going to get a pumpkin.
replied, " We'll get a pumpkin today. Yes siree, Bob!"
He put his hands on hips and said, "I am not BOB! I am Liam."
I laughed out loud.
I researched the origin of that phrase. Some websites
claimed "Bob" was used as a euphemism for the word, "God"
and the idiom came into use at the end of the 19th century. Some said it was
slang, informal and rural colloquialism.
ever hear or use this phrase? Or am I really dating myself?
to the Grammarist, an idiom is a phrase that is more than the
sum of its parts, or in other words, has more of a meaning than the individual
words used in the phrase. Examples include pay the piper, for the birds,
and pulling one’s leg.
also a synonym for dialect, a way of speech particular to a geographical area
that has specific vocabulary, syntax, and grammar. Finally, it can be used to
describe a method of expression particular to a person, time period, or object.
A colloquialism is
a phrase that has risen from verbal speech. The only criteria for this
designation is that the word or phrase be extremely informal. They may
originate from a dialect, but do not have to. Examples include a whole nother, could care less,
and raring to.
Do you care
to leave any of your examples? Other than, "So hungry I could eat a
The Variety Children's Charity (formerly The Variety Club) serves children with disabilities.
In its ninth year, Variety Children's Theatre paired with a full orchestra, an inclusive children's ensemble, talented kids with special needs, and also professional actors and dancers to bring the Wizard of Oz production to our city.
There is no other program like this in the world, according to Jan Albus, Executive Producer. There were twenty-four children on stage with a disability and twenty-four without.
Lara Teeter, Director and Choreographer, is a Professor of Theatre and the Head of Musical Theatre Program at the Webster University Conservatory of Theatre Arts. He has performed in six Broadway shows and has graced the Muny stage many times.
Speaking of Broadway shows, last night Bill and I attended this year's performance, which was OUTSTANDING. I felt like I was in New York.
Some of the Variety Children's Theatre performers, actors, dancers, and interns had limited vocal ability, yet each introduced themselves and their positions with such pride and confidence... to rousing applause.
The opening comments and introductions moved me to tears because I have taught children with many capabilities and some with severe disabilities. The pride these performers felt equaled the pride felt by their families and audience members. This was a night to remember, a performance beyond comparison, and I felt honored to be in attendance.
My classroom motto Never say, "I can't." Always say, "I can try!" was in full force with these talented and determined Variety Children's Theatre performers. WOW! The cast of determined individuals was phenomenal.
I began "officially" writing and submitting in 1997. I have come a long way as a self-taught freelance writer. I was looking through some of my old files, comparing my earlier writing to my more recent.
It is evident I have grown in my literary life. I have access to a computer now, which I did not have when I began. I was thrilled the day my honey purchased a word processor for me at a yard sale from a college student. Still had to use the whiteout strip, but I didn't care. Now I have the Internet at my fingertips. Research is effortless, and my writing life has improved immensely.
We are all at different levels of development whether it is in our writing, or personal growth, and we should not compare ourselves to others.
But I cannot help comparing cuteness today.
I babysat Alex on Thursday, which was his mommy's birthday.
Happy birthday to my first grandchild, Ashley, shown here at two days old.
Alex, at two months old, looks like his mama when she was a baby. He did not like the bright sky outdoors, but he did enjoy his stroller ride. He is beginning to mimic vocal play. I love snuggling and playing with this little cutie. He is so precious. I must remember not to compare him to
you know who...
Happy Liam, at four months old, loved EVERYTHING and still does. He has a zest for life and has the same personality as his mommy. His vocabulary is superior and his reasoning is amazing.
At 3 years and three months old, Liam loves the different playgrounds around town, and he tells us which color he wants to visit. He recently returned from a camping trip with his paternal grandparents. He is talking a mile a minute about all the things he did.
These three years have flown by, and I can hardly imagine Alex this big, but growing up seems to happen in the blink of an eye. I feel so blessed to be a grandma to all of our "babies," big and little.
Now let's talk about your writing... have you been writing, and submitting? Get those babies out there. Your words impact others. Wishing you a beautiful day, and hoping to see some of you at Spencer Library in St. Charles tomorrow form 10-2.
I am not here to argue a point, discuss patriotism, or debate kneeling when our national anthem is played. This post is not about any of those things.
I want to share an incident that happened everyday when I was in 8th grade, and tell you how it indirectly affected me.
We were mostly innocent and immature thirteen-year-old students attending a public, inner-city school. We sang patriotic songs in music class honoring all branches of the US military. When The Star Spangled Banner aired over the intercom, we were to stop moving, stand at attention and place our hand over our heart. Then we would say The Pledge of Allegiance to the nearest American flag.
A girl named Paula who was very quiet, stood out from the class because her religion dictated she wear long hair, skirts, and long-sleeved shirts. She was not permitted to wear shorts for gym class. She wasn't allowed to sing the national anthem, nor participate in the Pledge of Allegiance.
Our male gym teacher continually bullied this young girl mercilessly and threatened her with failing 8th grade if she did not dress out or say the Pledge.
"Rules are rules!" he bellowed. "I don't care what your parents or preacher tell you. If you do not follow the rules, you will fail 8th grade!"
He made her sit on a bench. Some of us argued (yes, I spoke up) in her defense that she could still participate in class even though she did not wear shorts. He shot us down with his authoritarian comments and blatant insults. I suppressed my anger, confusion, and inability to help Paula. I felt helpless and overpowered by this man who went on to become a prominent district athletic director.
Paula did graduate, but no child should be shamed for their parent's beliefs and/or religious values. Paula tried to explain, "My parents say we pledge allegiance to one master, and that is God."
At that time, the words of our anthem and pledge were meaningless to me. Today, more than five decades later, I have analyzed the words and some disturb me: "liberty and justice for all" I am not talking about incidents making today's nightly news. I speak of incidents that happened to our family who did not receive justice after being killed by a drunk driving football player in town.
I am concerned about nations that indoctrinate children to blindly follow policy without question. I am not slamming our country, our leaders, our citizens... merely seeing things in a different light.
I welcome your comments and will simply leave them as your commentary and not debate.
I fell asleep on the couch last night. At 2:00 a.m.
I finally went to bed.
Searched for the top sheet, but found my honey burrito-wrapped instead.
So I wrote a couple pieces
and sent them off with hope.
They all bounced back this morning. Now I sit and mope.
Such is the writer's/retiree's life.
If you are out and about on Saturday, stop by Spencer Library for the Indie Author Event from 10-2. There will be 100 authors there! My fellow Chicken Soup for the Soul writers and I will be participating. This is always a fun time.
427 Spencer Road St. Peter's, MO (Chocolate for my friends!)
You do not have to sign up. Disregard those words on the poster.
My brother John is a goodhearted man who does kind
things for others. He makes rings out of dollar bills for waitresses, and rings
out of higher denominations for elderly aunts. He does fantastic origami
designs and gives them to children. He makes wonderful creations out of paper
or cardboard. He is probably the most creative person I know. He often donates
his creations to his local library, schools, day cares and individuals. I'm thinking Mom sparked our creativity.
When we were little kids, she showed us how to fold
a page of the newspaper to make a boat. I was amazed to discover when placed upon
the head, it looked like Robin Hood's hat. A simple piece of newspaper became a
fascinating plaything for my brother and me.
When Mom would get upset with someone she'd say,
"Oh, he talks like a man with a paper hat."
I always thought she meant a newspaper Robin Hood
hat. I didn't understand what she meant until I was older and Dad told us
stories about his childhood in the early 1920s. He was the class clown in
school and often had to sit in front of the class wearing a paper cone hat... a
I finally got it! I understood Mom's remark.
I've heard some bizarre comments lately by an influential person. One thing I heard with my own ears was, "Enjoy yourself."
This was spoken to a person dealing with the aftermath of hurricane devastation.
Normally I would rant and rave to my hubby about this person's insensitive remarks. But now all I can think
is, "He talks like a man with a paper hat."