Your words can be a gift

My sweet Liam did not have to share me with his brothers last Friday. They had to go to the pediatrician, so he spent the day with us, much to his delight. Papa Bill took us to McDonald's so Liam could play at the Play Place. 

Then it was home for a nap and afterwards some pre-reading activities, story telling, and phonics  using inventive spelling (writing the letters he hears.) 

This is Liam's precious story. Four and five year old children should be able to stay on topic using 4-5 related sentences.

I used to do these with my students, and some were so funny! I displayed them at our holiday program and explained why it is important to ask kids questions, such as who? what? why? where? when? what else? and can you tell me more?

There are many people who don't realize they are writers. You do not have to be published to say you are a writer.

 Liam loves books, alphabet, sounding out letters, and of course the praise I heap on him for being so eager to learn. He was in rare form being silly as we played Jenga.  As I was video taping him, I asked him his name. He replied, "LEO." Then he laughed and laughed, which resulted in bear hugs and tickles. I love the age he is!

Let this be a reminder to you if you are a writer, don't wait until you know all the rules of writing to get started. Look at an interesting picture and tell a story. That's a beginning.

This is a busy time, and it is easy to procrastinate, so be sure to get your words down, even if it is to complain about the hectic pace, the crazies you encountered, or the things that made you smile or say, Oh dear!" Don't let December slip by without your words. They may be a gift to someone. 

SPARK... an idea that could lead to future publication

An image can spark an idea, a story, or a poem. Sometimes when I try to write I hit a dead end. When I merely write what I observe along the way, I sometimes spark a poem, essay or story.

Tropical sunrise tripped my trigger and made my heart ping. 

Florida sunset made me swoon but was gone too soon. Rained the next three days.

 We went on an enjoyable cruise with Bob and Peggy, a couple we have traveled with before. I enjoyed the Caribbean blast furnace heat. I would rather be hot than cold. But winter does not listen to me. Two inches of snow possibly today. I am trading one white (sand) for another (snow.)

I left behind my footprints, saw a few ocean critters, and took home memories to get me through winter. My honey has been in therapy for a sore leg so he sat, and I waddled a few worries away.

On the long drive home from New Orleans, I wrote random thoughts about things I observed along the way.


Brittle leaves line dancing across the black top.

Weathered row boat, wintering bottom up on a stump, in a cluster of barren trees, oars clinging to wooden ribs.

Spring growth will hide that little boat like a squealer in the witness protection program.

Empty dandelion colored bucket gaping on its side. Wire handle anxious for an encounter.

Flattened Mountain Dew case tossed and battered by hyped up winds.

Half dozen discarded quart plastic oil containers piled in a ditch, life blood for someone's jalopy.

My new scarf worn on Halloween night, transforming me into a butterfly. (my blog photo)

Your turn! Look around, out a window, or at the sky. Write a creative sentence or two about what you see. Will you share?

How important is a title?

I met with a writer friend the other day. Seems great minds think alike. We are both working on personal collections. I am convinced readers will purchase his book before mine, simply because his title is a hoot. I am not at liberty to share the title at this time, but trust me, if you are a writer, you would laugh out loud.

Do titles sell you on a book?

Do you have a preference for long titles or short?
Do you like titles that sound like a newspaper headline?
Does a title capture the essence of what's to come? Does it entice? Evoke emotion?
Have you ever been impressed or misled by a title?

I am reading three books: Folly Beach, by Dorothea Benton Frank; We Are Water, by Wally Lamb; Save Me, by Lisa Scottoline. Three different genres, two I chose because I like the authors. One book has not lived up to my expectation, one surprised me, and the other is written in my preferred writing style.

One of my favorite books is, I Know This Much is True. I read the jacket flap but had already decided, based on the title, I wanted to read this book.

What is your opinion?

If you were going to write a collection of personal essays based on your own life, what would your title be? Come on give it a try. 

Top of the morning... O'Connell is over the moon

Writing outside your comfort zone can feel intimidating, exhilarating, depressing.

When I worked, I had to find time to write. I woke early every morning, searched markets, and wrote from about 5:00 a.m.-8:00 a.m. before I went to school to teach little learners and budding writers.

 I did writing projects with them all the time using picture prompts, encouraging their good ideas. "Tell me more. Then what? where? why? when? how?" It is never too soon to develop a love of writing/reading. Kids love to see THEIR words in print.

I have been retired two years, and I've found myself dawdling instead of doing. By the time I piddle half the morning away watching news, reading blogs, and fooling around on Facebook, I decide it's time to write. Just about the time I sit down, my funny honey decides to go to the store, or out to lunch, and off we go... and there goes another day.

I am in the process of doing a final edit on my dust collector, my novel. My self-imposed deadline is this week. I will finish it TODAY!

Last month I challenged myself to submit to places I have never considered, and to write in genres that require more construction than writing memoir. Rejections  kept pouring in, but that is part of the game.

Did you ever try to write 100 words flash fiction? Every word has to count. I tried my hand at it. I submitted a condensed version of a 1,000 word story to Lagan on Line. Click the link to decide if this is a place where you would like to submit.

This morning when I read, "Thank you for your submission..." I shrugged and thought, "Eh, here's another rejection."

It was an international acceptance! This literary magazine is in Northern Ireland. I am beyond thrilled. And it will be featured on 6/24, a significant loved one's birthday. Happy dance.

Have you written anything lately? I presented Sean, the recent graduate, with his journal (photos included) which I have written for him since he was born.

Do you keep journals for grandchildren?
Do you jot an idea and write on topic later? Why wait? Write something today.

What do you have in reserve? Becoming my mom.

I have renewed energy, vitality and drive in springtime. I'm excited and delighted to see all the rose buds blossoming; there are more each day. Looking at this little statue makes me count my blessings.

 

With the longer days, I write prolifically. Since January I have submitted 11 new pieces per month. I hope my submissions will be accepted and my writing will blossom like this little bush, but of course that's not realistic. I've received three acceptances since January. Such is freelance reality.

Hubby tosses his cooked egg yolks to a mocking bird that has been coming around for a couple years. It's so tame it lands on the patio table and waits for him to throw food. The other day Bill dropped the egg on the ground. A starling swooped in to snatch it, but a chipmunk darted out from under the shed and devoured it. The starling looks startled, doesn't it? Or maybe confused? I know the mockingbird perched on the fence was. The two birds thought it a sure thing. The little chipmunk showed them.

Writing and submitting can be confusing and disappointing when you believe you've written the perfect piece for a particular publication, and the editor rejects it. Almost immediately. Sometimes it's not about how swift you are and how clever your writing. It could be that someone else beat you to the punch. Or maybe your piece didn't suit editorial needs, wasn't the right tone or fit.

I've been trying to break into a new essay market which has a call out for personal essays on motherhood. I've submitted from three different perspectives: a mother's, a teacher's and a grandmother's. I was certain one of them would be a good fit, but so far I have received three rejections. "Not a good fit."

As an editor, author, and creator of an anthology, I know editors cannot respond to all inquiries.
I wrote and asked if they were seeking snarky or serious. I received a form letter rejection, not an answer.

Disappointing? Sure.

Will that stop me? of course not.

I now have three new essays which I can submit elsewhere.

Just like the chubby chipmunk who stores food, it's good for writers to have a reserve supply.

Do you have a folder filled with rejected material? Have you looked at it lately? Why not select something, revise it and send it out this week?

If it pertains to mothering, you might try Motherwell. I wish you success. 

My story about my mom and me is online for your reading pleasure. Please leave a comment. Thank you and enjoy.
/http://sasee.com/2016/05/01/becoming-my-mother/

Another murder, another mystery...

 

        An interview with C. Hope Clark

C. Hope Clark's latest novel, a mystery, Murder on Edisto, has been released via Bell Bridge Books, and is available wherever books are sold. Hope is also author of The Carolina Slade Mystery Series, and she is the editor of FundsforWriters.com. She has been awarded Writer’s Digest’s 101 Best.com / www.fundsforwriters.com. Her newsletters reach forty thousand readers.

Linda O'Connell:

Welcome, Hope. Congratulations on your newest release. Please give readers an overview of your latest mystery novel, Murder on Edisto.

C. Hope Clark:

I’m in love with this book, though I wasn’t when I first started it. It’s made me grow like nothing else I’ve written:

When her husband is murdered by the Russian mob, Boston detective Callie Jean Morgan suffers a mental break and relinquishes her badge to return home to South Carolina. She has no idea how to proceed with her life, but her son deserves to move on with his, so she relocates them to the family vacation home.

But the day they arrive on Edisto Beach, Callie finds her childhood mentor and elderly neighbor murdered. Her fragile sanity is threatened when the murderer taunts her, and the home that was to be her sanctuary is repeatedly violated. Callie loses her fight to walk away from law enforcement as she becomes the only person able to pursue the culprit who’s turned the coastal paradise into a paranoid patch of sand where nobody’s safe. But what will it cost her?

 

Linda O'Connell:

You have an innovative approach to storytelling. Please tell readers a little about your writing process. Do you outline your novels? Do you have a feel for your strong female protagonists before you begin, or do you plot your characters and get to know them as you write?

C. Hope Clark:

I’m not sure that I’ve written any two books the same, Linda. Lowcountry Bribe was inherent, almost. It’s part autobiographical since I was offered a bribe in my once-worked federal capacity, and the ordeal was a stressful one. I drew upon what I knew, and I painted Carolina Slade as someone I wanted to be. Tidewater Murder had to become purely fictional, which was a challenge, but I chose to flesh out my characters more, get creative with the secondary players, and design the plot around them. The process worked well for that book. Palmetto Poison, however, made me realize I had grown into a deeper writer, with the capacity for more intricate plot. Since most of my characters were developed, I focused on plot, and became a little more of an outliner.

The new release, Murder on Edisto, however, became a completely different animal. Driven by location and a new protagonist (this is an entirely new series, the Edisto Island Mysteries), this character drove the story. She enters broken and shattered, and the book becomes as much about her regaining her strength and self-confidence as it does solving the crimes. Placing the whole story on Edisto Beach paints a sense of the romantic as well as the suspenseful with the gentle breezes and the roaring surf. She goes there to heal, only to face danger as bad or worse than any she’d faced as a detective.

The next book in the Edisto series is purely plotted, though that doesn’t mean the twists don’t turn into turns as I start writing a chapter. It goes where it goes, but I do have a mission plotted. If you’ll note, the first series is named after the protagonist. The second is after the location. That in itself tells you that it’s a different process . . . and focus.

Linda O'Connell:

What inspired you to write Murder on Edisto, and how did the premise come to you? Was it a voice, a character, an event, a location? Did you have any challenges along the way? Did you tap into your own life experiences, as you did for the Slade series?

C. Hope Clark:

Murder on Edisto was forced upon me, actually. While contracting for Palmetto Poison, the publisher asked me to diversify myself . . . write something outside of the agricultural arena. Not everyone appreciated rural life, they said. At the same time, however, they praised my writing abilities, saying I was talented enough to write in a new direction and stretch those unused muscles. To acquire a two-book contract, I had to agree to the new series.

I was given three general parameters: a law enforcement protagonist (no amateur sleuth), an attractive setting that could withstand all the books in the series (the Slade books are each set in a different rural SC locale), and a Southern family full of angst. I was scared to death at the challenge, and had no idea where to start: character, location or story?

After much tossing and turning, I chose a place I adore visiting. Now I could write off my taxes all my jaunts to Edisto Beach, an obscure beach south of Charleston, South Carolina. It’s secluded, very slow, devoid of franchises and neon. A family beach where nothing happens. The beach is its own island off the bigger Edisto Island, and the region is gorgeous with awesome history (think Gone with the Wind on steroids), ghost stories, and beauty to drop your jaw to your knees.

Edisto is where I go to mentally regroup, sometimes taking worries there to toss away on the surf. From that location, I began to see my character. I broke her to bits in the opening chapter, ruining her life. She heads home to South Carolina only to regret moving in with her domineering political parents. She’s closer to her father, however, and in a bit of fatherly wisdom, he hands her the deed and keys to the family’s beach house on Edisto, so she can have a place of her own and heal at a place where nothing could go wrong. Then before she can take a deep breath of those ocean breezes, murder happens.

Did I tap into my life experiences like Slade? Not really other than I knew the place to take a broken person.

Linda O'Connell:
Was it difficult to leave Carolina Slade, the main character who readers have come to know and love in your three book mystery series?

C. Hope Clark:

Oh, you have no idea. Ultimately, I backed the editor and publisher in a corner until they agreed to continue with Slade. They, however, want to see the Edisto series promoted first. They are super proud and confident about the Edisto series. I’m sure they envision Slade being done. I assured them she wasn’t, because if they didn’t publisher her, I was sure someone else would. But for now, we’ll focus on Edisto. Slade is taking a breather.

Linda O'Connell:

Directly above my computer, is a tiny little monkey cut-out hanging upside down holding a small seashell. That image encourages me to write, to quit monkeying around, and is a reminder that publication will lead me one step closer to the next beach vacation. Do you have any habits, addictions, superstitions you engage in as a writer? For me, it's barefoot and a cup of tea when I write. You?

C. Hope Clark:

Sweet iced tea and bedroom slippers. A map of Edisto Beach hangs on my wall full-time now, to keep me in the story. But I must admit I’m an ADHD writer. I write a paragraph then read an email. Write another paragraph and check Facebook. If the thought is flowing, I write. If I stall, thinking of a new word, up pops the email. I have to keep moving forward. Busy, busy, busy. But that’s often why you see me online late at night. I write most of my fiction when the world has gone to sleep . . . because nobody is bouncing around on my email and Facebook page.

Linda O’Connell:

How long did it take you to develop and publish your first mystery, Lowcountry Bribe?

C. Hope Clark:

Oh, you don’t want to know, LOL. The first should always take the longest, because you are not only learning how to write, how to plot, how to develop a character, and how to sit your butt in the chair for long periods of time, but you are most importantly seeking confidence. Second most importantly you are seeking voice. Lowcountry Bribe took about 12 years from thought to publication. Of course there was down time in there (four years at one stage) when I questioned whether or not to be a novelist. If I crammed all the active months together and added it up, I’d say six years.

Linda O’Connell:

Do you have a favorite writer quote? A favorite book? Which authors inspire you?

C. Hope Clark:

Funny you ask. I have a new favorite quote I’m toying with painting on a canvas, framing and hanging. It’s so appropriate for my life right now:

The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea. ~ Isak Dinesan

My other favorite quote is:

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive. ~ Howard Thurman, an influential African American author, philosopher, theologian, educator and civil rights leader.

Favorite book? I cannot say because my tastes change, books change, authors come and go. Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy comes closest to my favorite. It dug deep into the author and you can read it in every line.

Which authors inspire me? Neil Gaiman and Stephen King, though I am not a fan of most of their works. I am inspired by their work ethic and wisdom that continually profounds me.

Linda O’Connell:

What do you do when you need to escape?

C. Hope Clark:

Go outside. Touch trees. Plant and get my hands dirty. Sit on the edge of water and watch it play. I’m a huge Mother Nature fan, having lived in the desert, on a lake, on the beach, in the foothills, at the foot of a mountain. I cannot get enough of Mother Nature. It’s the closest I can get to God. It’s where I know my spirit will return when my time is done on this planet.

Linda O'Connell
Tell us something we might not know about you.

C. Hope Clark:

I used to play 4.0 tennis, and miss it terribly. And I’m putty in the hands of a little one-year-old named Jack. Wednesdays are my days with Jack, and we pretend like we rule the world.

Linda O'Connell:

Please leave us with a little bit of "Hope."

C. Hope Clark:

The advice I’ve adhered to from day one as a writer is this: I will write through it all. That’s the best prescription I can hand to anyone. My second most important adage is: Write daily. Cannot emphasize that one enough.

Linda O'Connell:

Hope, thank you so much for sharing with readers. I sincerely appreciate your time. You have been an inspiration to me and many others. Personally, it is a relief to know you are a bit ADHD when you write. I have always imagined you hyper-focused on your projects, not at all distracted. It's nice to know you're much like the rest of us. Wishing you every success with your new series, especially your latest release. I can't wait to read Murder on Edisto.

I have not been compensated in any way for this post. I am grateful for this interview.

 

A gift for my writer friends

We've all been there: you feel like you're on the brink, success is a reach away and you've come too far to turn back.

It was a standoff between the species at the lake yesterday. George who is 15 and 6'5" and Kyle who is 19 and at least 6' tall were conspiring like when they were little boys. I was giggling to myself as I sat on the pontoon boat listening to their conversation.

The geese wanted the bread, and the boys wanted to get as close to the geese as possible. In the end, the bird brains won. They grabbed the bread, and when the boys grabbed for them the birds lifted off over the guys' heads.
 
Don't you feel this way sometimes when you write? You know what you want to say, the words are within reach, and then poof! Gone, flew away. It happens to everyone. But do not let that stop you in your writing tracks.

Take a little time for recreation, loosen up, relax and play around like our grandsons did at the lake.

May the perfect word choice or phrase sneak up on you like Sean did on the big guys.

May you reach your word count or whatever your own personal challenge of the day is.

 Check out this incredible site, GCW. There are so many places where you can submit your work. Here are a few listings. I wish you success.

Stretch. Reach for whatever it is you want. If you don't try, someone else will make the big splash.

Double hitched

Where's Waldo? Uhmm, Linda? His red boutonnier is prominent and we are in the center. See us? Click on photo to enlarge.


Tune: He Ain't Got a Barrel of Money

Oh, he ain't got a barrel of money,
and he might have a big old tummy,
as we travel through life
I'll be this man's wife
standing side by side.

He likes his ice cream and candy,
but I think this big guy's just dandy
Young love's exciting and new,
ours is like an old shoe,
I love my big old guy.

Silly lyrics, you say? A fun little ditty? A tribute to my honey before Valentine's Day? All of those would be true, but the real reason behind these lyrics is the reason that my husband married me twice in six weeks.

We had our wedding date set for the first Saturday in April. I asked my best friend(we met as army wives in Alaska and maintained a long-distance friendship Boston to St. Louis ever since) to be my Maid of Honor. Her husband, who became my husband's best buddy, was to be his best man. A small, family wedding, my cousin, a minister would officiate. The plans were laid, the hall rented, travel tickets purchased and then, well if you know anything about me, you can kind of figure there will be an "and then".

Late January I was driving to work listening to my favorite radio station, Y-98, when I heard the DJ, Guy Phillips announce a contest.

"Send in your best, your funniest, you sweetest, your most unique reason why YOU want to be married on Valentine's Day and YOU could win a complete wedding package, from wedding bands to tuxes, flowers etc. Gals, you buy your own gowns."

I went home and penned this little ditty, and unbeknownst to my hubby, I mailed it off on pink paper and bordered it with red heart stickers.

I giggled periodically and wouldn't tell Bill why. He thought he was marrying a kook. He found out how kooky I am. A couple days before the contest winners were to be announced, I began to panic. I stood on tip toe and kissed him.

"Honey, if I could WIN a wedding, and it wouldn't cost us a penny, would you go along?"

"Ha-ha, surrrre." He winked, smiled and nodded.

I was driving to work when I heard my name (at the end of the list because it began with "W" back then) and I went nuts, screamed, pounded the steering wheel, made a spectacle of myself in front of other drivers, screeched into a parking place, ran down the halls laughing maniacally adn announced to my coworker I was getting married.

She looked at me and said, "I KNOW! It's a still a few weeks away."

I called my honey at work and said, "We're getting married. We have to be at the court house by 5:00 p.m. Meet me after work."

"Slow down. We have plenty of time."

"No we don't. We need a marriage license. NOW! Today."

He continued to try to calm me and I excitedly broke the news that I had won the contest. I did not tell him until after we got the marriage license that we would be getting married in a grand ballroom, with 97 other couples for a grand total of 98 (for the radio station call numbers) and the ceremony would be aired live on the radio station, and over my school intercom.

The night before, we sat sipping a drink on an indoor balcony overlooking the hotel lobby, watching brides arrive with their long gowns. I had my suit with a beaded, sequined collar hanging in our room. I panicked again.

"I can't do this."

"You bailing, NOW?"

"No, I just can't wear a dumb suit while all these young brides wear gowns." I was in tears.

"You'll look just as beautiful."

"You're biased."

"You're making too much of this."

"You're not the bride!"

"Okay, well, we can leave in the morning. We're having our real wedding in a few weeks anyway."

And then I saw her down in the lobby. She was my age and she had a red evening gown slung over her shoulder. Another bride walked in carrying her turquoise 'prom' dress. An older woman arrived with a suit on a hanger and wide hat with a huge plume.

"Okay, I'll wear my suit now." I wiped my eyes.

My honey just smiled and nodded. He still does a lot of that.

A few weeks later, instead of professing our vows before thousands of listeners, we declared our love and renewed our vows in an intimate cermony before family and friends.

Proof that writing DOES pay off! I sold this story to a magazine. Double pay off.

I double dog dare you!

Don't be deterred by a title call out. When I saw a submission call for Chicken Soup for the Soul,Devotionals for Mothers, I immediately thought, Darn! They want stories from moms, probably young moms. Then, I raised my foot behind me and gave myself a swift kick in the pants. I searched my files for a story that I had written ten years ago, one that has been rejected by many publications. It has always been dear to my heart, BUT it's written from a grandma's perspective. I wavered: They won't want this 'old lady story'. Maybe I should change the point of view. Then I came to my senses and said, woman, stop that negative self-speak and send it off. The worst that can happen is another rejection.

Yesterday I received a contract stating that my story has made it to final round. Woo-hoo! It is about Bill's verbose granddaughter who, at age three met me at our door, tugged me by my heart strings and brought me to my knees with one sentence. She has forgotten the incident; I shall always be guilt-ridden.

So instead of bragging about my success, I want to encourage YOU to write from your heart even if it is about a topic you think you have nothing to write about. You might be surprised. My greatest Chicken Soup success story is about The New Mom's book. Years ago I sent the story; they sent a contract and then at the very last minute they pulled it. I sent that same story five years later (retitled it) for another New Mom's book, and they accpeted it.

Writers have to bide their time, believe in their abilities and take a chance. So the next CS call out with May deadlines are for the Cat and Dog books. Start writing. What's that? Do I hear you saying, "But I don't even like cats. I don't own a dog." So what! Did you ever see a stray cat on the edge of the highway scouting for food? I have and it bothers me. I may write about that. And dogs, well, even if you don't own one, you've had an experience with one. That shaggy dog who swiped my baby's ice cream cone in a gulp...well, I was laughing so hard I couldn't do a thing about it. But now I can write about it. On second thought, I think they are calling for stories about YOUR pets, so come up with something. I dare you.

Here's how my writing paid off 16 years ago

The other day my husband read what I wrote for a contest about my morning routine. I begin my day with a prayer that ends, "and please-please let my husband sleep another hour so I can write in peace and quiet." He is taking it quite literally. I hear him stirring in the bedroom, biding his time, waiting until the half-hour before he makes his appearance. On this, our wedding anniversary and also Valentine's Day, he is giving me a gift that I truly appreciate, time to write. Of course I am writing a love note to him about the three men I love: the child who resides inside the big hulk, the centered man who makes me feel loved and who helps me clearly see both sides of any issue, and the paw-paw who demonstrates over and over how every man should treat women and children.

Some of you know that my writing is responsible for my second and third wedding (to this same man I've been with for twenty-one years. Sixteen years ago, I wrote a parody song for a radio contest and won a complete Valentine's Day wedding package. We were married in the glorious Grand Hall(upstairs)at Union Station with ninety-seven other couples. It was televised and broadcast live on Y 98, and also over the intercom at the middle school where I worked at the time.

Bill and I had scheduled our wedding for April; my best friend was travelling from Boston to be maid of honor and her husband was best man. So, although we married on 2/14/94, we married again in April. Actually, Sheila and Bruce were celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary, so we all repeated our vows again in the presence of family and friends.

Here are two of the verses I can still remember to the parody song I wrote.
Tune: He Ain't Got a Barrel of Money

Oh, he ain't got a barrel of money, he might have a big old tummy,
but we'll travel through life; I'll be this man's wife, standing side by side.

Oh, he likes his ice cream and candy, but I think this big guy's just dandy;
young love's exciting and new, ours is like an old shoe...I love my big old guy!

So, writers out there, think out of the box. You never know where your writing will take you or how it will pay off!

Writing REWARDS not AWARDS

The highest reward for a person's toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it.
~John Ruskin

This is especially true with writing. I just submitted a 2,000 word personal narrative to Voices of Alzheimers, LaChance Publishing. My intent of course was publication, but the end result isn't as important now. In writing this piece, I relived a heart wrenching experience and was able to work through some grief. I have become stronger by having written it.

In teaching preschoolers, although I do toil, I am rewarded with satisfaction of witnessing their growth, and I get at least a laugh a day from a student's quip. Yesterday a five year old boy was inviting others to his house. "If you see a golden retriever that doesn't listen, then you know you're at my house."