Advertisements

Tell your story.

Our lives are a puzzle - made of so many different, odd shaped pieces. Those weird ones with the sharp angles, dark red or deep blue, that look more like someone else's bad dream than a piece of your puzzle.

Advertisements

Searching

My parents both had their own demons to deal with while raising four kids. I was always a daddy's girl and it took me thirty years to understand a lot of things, but I think I found the answers I needed. In my earlier blog, I shared some of my best memories. I touched on... Continue Reading →

My daddy

This man built treehouses and death-defying water slides. Once he took me, my sister and little brother out in the woods and told us to find all the moss we could. He wouldn't tell us why, just gave us buckets to fill. Later he took the double-decker wire mesh tool rack off of his work... Continue Reading →

Uncle Wilkensack

When I was little, I had an imaginary friend, his name was Uncle Wilkensack. Actually, I had twenty one imaginary friends because Uncle Wilkensack had a wife, they had seventeen kids and they had two pet alligators. I can still remember the first time I met them. I was sick with a high fever, lying... Continue Reading →

Room in the Inn

Something else happened while I was there that I’ll be forever grateful for. My seventh grade science teacher, Nita Heilman, reached out to me on FaceBook and asked if I’d like to volunteer at St. Bethlehem at Room in the Inn. I jumped at the chance.

Survivors

How many times have you seen a teenage kid with tattoos and black circles under their eyes and jump to the conclusion that they are little trouble makers in the making?

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑