“Each time a door closes, the rest of the world opens up.” Parker J. Palmer, Let Your Life Speak My feet flew over Tommi’s sticker-y grass. I sailed like a bird flapping its arms, except mine flailed to keep from landing on my head. I had kicked my feet in one final push, as high as the metal swing set would allow, when I launched myself out. I was nine years old. All I knew–I was going to win the...
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I had come to the class to teach public speaking. But I had not come to teach about being perfect at it. In fact, as I shifted my weight side to side and stumbled over my um’s, I pretty much broke every public speaking rule in the book. They had signed up to learn about Speech. I had signed up to teach about courage. It was two years ago from the podium, I stood in front of homeschooled high-schoolers to...
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My family and I dodged through a congest Dallas. Just earlier, we witnessed where rain had swollen creekbeds until they raged with rapids. But now cars jammed together like a snake of metal along highways, participating in the normal big city traffic. I clutched the arm of our car door as semi’s bee-bopped between lanes, without so much as a care to cars. I pointed my finger, “There, there,” along the...
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I wish I could say Spring quietly slipped out like a visitor that’s too awkward for a goodbye. Instead it banged pots, tripped over furniture, and broke some china. I tried to enjoy every moment. Tried to savor the soggy ground that sagged under it’s own weight. Tried to appreciate my watered (drowning) Wave Petunia’s and Roma Tomato plants. Tried to not resent the overcast darkness of drizzle and...
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The sun is bright today. After days, weeks, and months of rain. I’m still reveling in the glory of sunshine. We live on a farm. And our neighbors live on farms. While the rain is a blessing, the saturated grounds negatively impacted work. However, it positively impacted hay production. But the grass is high. Very high. Cutting it now is a huge undertaking. Since most hay producers are already behind the power curve, this...
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I was the shiny new girl. The one who came most anytime of a school year when growing up. Middle, beginnings, or endings, did not matter really. Most every grade was in a different school. I loved it then. I could change. Be a chameleon. I graduated with strangers, or in the least, casual acquaintances. That was when I first, really ached for community, for a family of friends to celebrate memories I never shared. I...
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