Writing - the ups and downs

Through tangled brush We make our way  To the creek bed Cooling summer feet In crystal water. Butterflies  With gossamer wings Skitter up the bank, Fanning honeysuckle vines.               Suddenly, a head shoots From beneath a mossy rock, A crawdad staking claim to his territory - As if little girls pose a threat. Later, on a picnic cloth  They arrange their treasures, A speckled feather, an odd shaped Rock, a golden leaf. Unlike their “find,” my treasures Are images - images of two giggling girls  Arms outstretched  Ready to Embrace the world - Ready EVEN to walk on water.

This is a blog from five years ago. It's relevant to me today. Hope you enjoy! My friend Liz and her husband recently stayed two nights with us while on vacation in this area. I pulled a dozen or so books from my shelves to share with Liz - who is also an avid reader and wonderful writer. (She writes as Elizabeth Vollstadt and has various books and stories in print, including YOUNG PATRIOTS: Inspiring stories of the American Revolution- which she co authored with friend, Marcella Anderson. It's for children but I love this book!) THEN, Liz unloaded the books she'd brought to share with me. (She'd also brought a gift for me - a book, what else!) While she was here there were books stacked on the coffee table, the end tables, the dining room table, and the kitchen bar. A few books more than my usual stash covered every available surface. I'd catch her reading as I puttered in the kitchen, or at night we'd have tea and then she'd head off to be

I'm recovering from acute bronchitis. All I've done the last few days is think about writing but not actually writing. My time has been filled with lots of Kleenex, coughing, breathing treatments, etc etc etc. Every day I feel a bit better. Come tomorrow I'll be well - I'm counting on it. In the meantime, while I'm not writing, I found this poem among my papers and thought I'd share  - it's a sentiment I wrote for our daughter Jill. Hope you enjoy. As always comments are very welcome. Hugs to all. Grandma’s Rocking Chair Grandma’s rocking chair - passed on to our daughter - headed for Wisconsin loaded in a U Haul, nestled between an antique secretary, and a refinished dresser - mirror long gone. Our three year old triplet grandchildren, faces pressed to the window of the van, wave good bye to me and grandpa in the driveway, their tears breaking our hearts. Our daughter, Jill, heavy with the child of her new husband, hums to the children And soon they