Blame it on what my husband calls my anti-social tendencies.
So while there is part of me that has much guilt that I am not side by side with my daughter enjoying the memory-evoking smell of horse manure. I think sane mommy is probably better for her in the long run.
I. am. a. writer. (if I say it enough times it becomes true, right?) :)
When I was 5 I wanted to be a writer. I created a paper called the Harlan Gazette and sold it to my grandparents. It only included good news.
When I was 10 I wanted to be a writer. I wrote poems about the planets and a short story called Jerry & the Tipperan about a boy who was visited by aliens.
When I was 15 I wanted to be a writer. I wrote my journal to the unknown audience who would read it after I died and dreamed of traveling the world writing for National Geographic.
When I was 20 I wanted to be a writer. I took poetry and fiction classes while pursuing my journalism degree.
Somewhere along the way I got sidetracked. I became a bookseller (which I loved) but then spent t 15 years having an identity crises and trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
I’m reclaiming the dream. I. am. a. writer. Get ready to read.
My daughter was riding around the neighborhood on her bike. On one trip through the ‘hood, she stopped to talk to a friend and did not pass by the house in her usual time frame. I found myself wishing I had some sort of gps device to attach to her so I knew where she was all the time. Then I thought that is one step away from implanting a tracker like they do for dogs and as our generation of media-fed paranoid parents starts thinking that sort of thing is a good idea (if she got kidnapped you could track her!) , in a couple of short generations the entire populace is tagged and the government can track us all. My conspiracy theory grandfather’s mind totally would have gone there. Miss you, you old coot!
Look for Sun Valley Mama to resurface in the new year!