I love writing, photography, painting, & crafts. I see myself being the "jack of all trades but a master of none!"
I may not be the best or have total perfection at everything I do, but I give it a good try no matter what and you can too!
The Voice From The Deep
It was a sunny day as usual in Pismo Beach, California, when I decided to go swimming after walking the long white sandy beach. The waves were coming in slowly, along with a light breeze. I had picked a perfect day to hang out at the beach, take in the sights and fresh saltwater ocean air.
Don't Worry, Be Happy!
It was a hot, humid day in the middle of August near the Texas border town of Brownsville. Sweat was pouring down the brow of Valaria's face as she moved some limbs off her driveway into her yard. They had fallen during the night from an old oak tree. She was late for school, but the branches had barely missed her car from behind. A few neighbors looked over at her, nodding and going along their way. There were plenty of stares but no help to aid her. She was used to that. It's hot, and life in this town moves rather slowly except for her. She was a go-getter with big ambitions and dreams of leaving this place for the big city. She had already planned out her life, as far as her work was concerned. She was working hard to make her dream a reality. She planned to transfer to Austin to finish her degree at the University of Texas.
George…just George. What a George he was. He never knew a cake he didn’t like or cookie, for that matter. I knew George well. He was quite a tall, lanky, handsome fellow who loved to bake. Growing up and looking at him, I always thought that he would be a perfect mortician because he looked like Mr. Fletcher, the local one in town. Thin and bony he was too. Aren’t all morticians tall and spindly? Well, I thought they were. I shouldn’t have stereotyped him at all because he became a Baker! Well, I won’t tell you how I envisioned all Bakers. That will be my little secret. Again, I was wrong, thanks to George.
The Last Survivor
Mila ran to the pond facing her house and started to dig in the mud. It was wet, gooey, and had algae growing throughout the watery muck. Yet with her bare hands, no gloves on, she managed to dig a hole about 3 feet down and less than 1 foot across. It had to be here. She was sure of it.
My Looming Passion!
Who doesn’t love to create? We are born into a world with so many infinite things to do. Take, for example, my favorite hobby, which is looming. The yarn I use is first made synthetically or naturally with the wool of an animal. It is then spun into yarn by hand or by a machine. I then buy the yarn sold at a hobby shop or from a local spinner. What seems like magic turns a string into either a beanie cap or an enormously warm scarf. A very simple strand of yarn becomes clothing. It always amazes me how I helped it morph into something useful.