Time for another weekly assignment from Mama Kat. I’ve been away from the blog for a while, but I’m gonna bend the rules a little and explain what’s kept me away for the past few days.
I am a teller of visions and dreams.
Sometimes what you see means more than it seems.
It’s Wednesday again, and this week’s writers’ workshop has me thinking of a simpler time when my biggest problems were multiplication tables. It was the best of times without the worst, and I can’t wait to get back. Climb in, sit back and hold on because, in the words of Dr. Emmett Brown, “If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits eighty-eight miles per hour… you’re gonna see some serious –“
A few days ago, while suffering from a serious case of writer’s block, I came across a writing prompt that asked for my idea of what life would be like if I were a handicapped person. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I wondered what other people’s responses would be if they were to walk a mile in my shoes.
Per the weekly writing assignment from Mama Kat, I have decided to address the issue of camping, for no other reason than I’ve done my share of it. Oh, and something crazy always seems to happen when I go. I’ve selected one of my most memorable excursions to share with you, so read on if you dare.
Two years ago today, I was on the way to a routine doctor’s appointment. What met me when I arrived changed me, and my community, forever.
Somebody once said there are two things you should never talk about with people: politics and religion. If that’s true, brace yourselves, because — with all due respect to that anonymous orator of conversational etiquette — I’m about to discuss both in one post.
Last Thursday I awoke to the first day of my last semester of college. Usually the first day of a new semester is a breeze and, since I am taking only one class, I expected this one to be just that. I was wrong.