You Don’t Have to be Fabulous

I have four fabulous sons.  I have a mostly fabulous husband.  And at some points in my life I too might have been considered fabulous.

Recently I felt fabulous – momentarily – as one of my sons told me of a conversation with a friend of his.  “Your mom is intimidating. She is an impressive writer.” He quickly reassured her,  “Oh, she is not nearly so impressive unedited!”

According to Christmas letters and Facebook pages most all of my friends are fabulous.

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Consider the Trees

Had enough of reading about the election?  Consider, instead, the wonder of  trees.

In my upstairs bedroom is an alcove with a window. In the alcove sits a drafting desk  — a place for me to retreat today, in peace, to write.

It is quiet up here.  No hum of the dishwasher signaling its service to me.  No buzz of the dryer calling for my attention.  No background noise of husband on the phone.

And best of all, on this day following the election for president, I hear no prattle of television commentators.

A Word Person

I have always been a word person.

I read a lot as a child.  In the summer I would max out my library card and that of my mother every two weeks.   I did all my mandatory summer reading for school.  I even read the dictionary.

I excelled at word games like Boggle and Scrabble.  A boyfriend in college, an engineering student, was the first person to ever beat me in Boggle.  I was impressed.  I married him.

Going Barefooted

 

Photo by Hollie Harmon

The world of my childhood was experienced with two bare feet.  Growing up in Montgomery, Alabama, in the 1960’s no children wore shoes in the summertime except perhaps the sons and daughters of the newly imported – families who moved to Montgomery from other environs, where apparently shoes were a sign of civilization.  Not here.  Not among the poor and not even among the rich, or at least those deemed rich by the standard of the sleepy town along the banks of the Alabama River.

Shoes were not required for school, prompting uninitiated newcomers regularly to visit the school principal offering to buy shoes for the poor barefoot children streaming into the school each day, the children of the local doctors, lawyers and business leaders – the classmates of their children.  The esteemed local pediatrician, wise beyond his time, assured parents that barefoot was best. He had his medical reasons – but I just thought he loved us.

A whole world of sensation is lost on those who go through life wearing shoes.

Hello!

With two sons in college and two in high school I am finding more time to write.  I am setting up this blog to have a place to share my essays. I hope you find something amusing or helpful.