So the past few years I've used Live Journal as my journal of choice. But lately it just seems to be too un-user friendly. Peer pressure and all things google bring me to Blogger. So what better way to start my new journal than by this self discovery exercise I did last night after copying it from my friend's blog. (Thank you Tami...yours was beautiful) I've been a bit of an insomniac of late, so there's nothing like delving deep into the past and giving memories a stir at 2 am...it didn't help me sleep, but it was fun anyway.
If you'd like to do one of these, visit the template. I'd love to read what you write.
Like most things I do, it's more long winded than it should be...but whatever.
Where I'm From....
The second house my Dad built in Jonesboro Arkansas. We moved in when I was 7. The same age my children are now.
I am from fuel efficient tiny cars that took trips across countless states while I figured out arrival time and drank welch’s grape juice from a glass bottle. I am from imagery like petrified geysers, majestic mountains, mustangs on golden plains, and Gary, Indiana.
I am from mixed tapes of 70’s and 80’s rock, pop and country.
I am from homes we built and homes we made. Neighborhood kickball in rural Arkansas, ice skating in gray Erie PA, and basketball in Silicon Valley. I am from a twin bed in a room with faux painted matching furniture and a radio under my pillow at night.
I am from the weeds I pulled with Mama in our Brookland garden, the smell of puppy feet, baby bunnies found in the barberry bushes, grapevines tied in the bitter cold. I am from fruit picking and the tomatoes I crushed the day my sister stuck her wet hand too close to the electrical socket.
I am from family prayers on Friday nights and stacked wood. From Jacobs and Hull who came together after a 5 day engagement.
I am from a home that was always ready for visitors and dinners around the table that lasted as long as I could put off eating my frozen peas.
I am from whispers of "behave" during church and "every extra penny spent is that many more you'll have to save" to support my Dad in his old age.
I am from a place where God had a lot of rules that set us apart. I am from a religion that opened the door to London & Loch Lomond, spending summers on the back of horses, cycling around Texas, and canoeing upper Minnesota lakes. It seemed a fair trade.
I'm from Little Rock, Palo Alto, Michigan, Texas, and North Carolina…from England, Holland and the Cherokee nation. From homemade spaghetti sauce, freshly baked cinnamon rolls and exploding bottles of root beer in the basement.
From a history that includes Buffalo Bill Cody. From the pessimism and frugality born of the Great Depression. From the pride of service and the satisfaction of work well done. From Betty who was broken, but still roared. Who somehow, I could always understand, and reminds me daily of proper priorities. From John who loved to fly. From C.R., my Go Fish mentor, who worried and saved. From Erma expert marksman, crochet-er of orange poncho's and rider of giant tricycle. She lost her memories, but never her humor. From a hidden marriage and divorces. From a crowded family that traveled by plane more than cars and two little boys with a cranky dachshund named Fritz.
I am from a pipe still filled with grampa's tobacco, pie pans, collectible plates, published autobiographies, letters of love and hurt, a pink glass tea set and a doll named Nana.
