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Back home...for a moment

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Back home...for a moment

This is the time of year I get transported back to my childhood in upstate New York. I sat on my front door step here in Charlotte a couple of days ago and ate an apple. It tastes different in the fall as the leaves softly float to the ground. Somehow it is sweeter, crisper, more delicious.

When I was a kid I would go out to the orchard in the back of our house. Now, I had to walk through the pasture and across the creek to get to it, but those mountain apples in that unkempt orchard were the best. They were small, red, and so very sweet. Many of them were “protein apples”, meaning they had a little worm in them — you eat around that part. But no chemicals, no GMO, just an apple. The cows liked them too. 

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We also had a couple of winter pear trees. My father would lift my siblings and me up in the bucket of our tractor and we would pick pears in the fall and put them in bushel baskets. They would then be put in the cellar of our house and throughout the winter they would get ripe and we would have fresh fruit during the holidays. Mom would can many of those pears, too. I liked them better when you could hold them in your hand and bite into them. 

I think this year, as my family gathers together, I will ask my kids what memories they are fond of from their childhood. I’d like to know what brings them back home as they sit on their front door steps, too.

Right now, I think I need to get a cup of apple cider and sit on my front door step and go back to the Catskills for a few moments. I’ll return to Charlotte in 20 minutes or so.

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Journaling in Beaufort

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Journaling in Beaufort

At this moment I am in Beaufort, NC. The balcony of my room happens to look out on the water. It is a pretty amazing spot. The boats are going back and forth. A school bus just went over the bridge. Across the way, some men are using a hose to clean off their place of business and they are all wearing white boots; I saw some boats up next to that building earlier. Another man is on the pier fishing. The wind is blowing as the seagulls fly and squawk.

 And here I sit, watching it all happen. I wonder if any of them are aware that they are being watched, or has it crossed their minds at all. For that matter, someone might be watching me as I sit on this balcony writing this.

I do my best to take in my surroundings because I might be able to use it in a story later. I want to remember what I see, so I write it down in a journal. I describe the birds (I think they are storks) floating on top of the water, the rattle of the bridge as the cars go over it, the absolutely blue sky that graduates from a true Carolina blue to a pale baby blue in the distance. The smell of fish, the bottle cap left on the rail, the odd shape of the pier. Any of these descriptions could go into a story.

When I am sharing a story I want to paint a picture. My goal is to disappear so all that is left is the story. I sometimes go to a coffee shop or store and try to disappear into a corner to watch people and take in the surroundings. Being aware of how the people walk, hold their coffee, cross their legs, or even talk to the barista helps me to prepare a story.

Sometimes friends will call or text me with something that could really add to a story. For instance, a friend sent me a text telling me that a man in Starbucks ordered a cup of regular coffee and spent nearly $10 on it. I responded with a gasp. She continued to tell me that he got 6 shots of expresso and a bunch of other stuff dumped in it. That tidbit she shared with me will so go in my journal to use in a story one day. 

As I finish writing this post, I wish I had some inspirational note to wrap it all up, but I don’t. Instead, I'm attaching some pictures of the view from my balcony.

Now, I am going to go disappear into a corner.

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Pondering...

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Pondering...

If you read my blogs very often you can probably tell they are just ponderings.

I ponder most of the day and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. I think about a lot of things; for instance, why do emergency vehicles have different sounds in different countries? OK, so I realize there is not a United Federation of Emergency Sounds, but really, why are they different? Who decided what was a good emergency sound? Was there a group of people who got together in a secret room somewhere and brought a bunch of noise makers to come up with the proper sounds?

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I think about stuff like that. My brain just goes; it’s not like I intentionally think; stuff just pops in my head. It is not uncommon for me to exclaim, “Oh, my, gosh!!”, because something has just opened up in my head. I have been notified that there is something else to ponder.

These little sparks make me want to learn. I want to find out about things. I want to explore it all; visit museums, watch documentaries, talk to people, go to plays and the theatre. I want to travel to Ireland, Scotland, Alaska, California; take a cruise around the Caribbean. I want to experience life and think about it.

I have been asked many times, “Why do you think about things like that?”  I don’t know; thoughts just climb into my head and take a seat, so I ponder about it.

Since I am a storyteller and puppeteer, it is good that I think about things so much. Pondering is how I develop my stories and create my characters. 

Take some time today and ponder. You might be surprised what climbs into your head.

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