I am not sure if it’s a sign of aging, or if I just put too much on my plate this week, but I forgot my own writing challenge. Bummer~!…
Tag: <span>writing</span>
The fear of writing that I felt when I started blogging and writing has vanished. I never noticed that I liked writing, didn’t really think about it, until I started blogging. Maybe writing has been something, that has been waiting inside of me to be let out. Like a caged up animal, just waiting for the chance to be set free.
We went to the circus when I was a kid and I loved it. I loved everything about it. The smell, the horses, the acrobats and the clown who made me laugh so hard. Then, later on, when I grew up I refused to go to the circus…any circus. I feel that animals, small and big, shouldn’t be held in a cage for our amusement. I don’t go to a zoo and for sure not to a circus. I don’t want to see animals being held in captivity, it’s as simple as that.
One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.
We had a funny neighbor when I grew up. He was an older gentleman, with a kind heart and a very wicked sense of humor. He loved to play pranks on everybody and making other’s laugh was his main goal in life.
My sleep pattern was always a little bit weird and I never really had an explanation. I woke up numerous times during the night and just couldn’t go back to sleep, no matter how hard I tried.
My blogging friend Calensariel wrote a beautiful post about why she loves and continues to write >>>I write because<<<. It’s beautiful, well worth reading and it left me wondering about my own motivation. We all have different reason why we write and I was wondering what were mine? The love to write is one thing, but why do I share it with the world – well, part of the world anyway?
“Money can’t by happiness” was one of the sayings I learned when I grew up. It’s a universal saying in almost every language and I believed it. Do we need money to be happy? No, of course not. Does is mean everybody without money is automatically happy? Does it mean poverty makes us happy? No, it doesn’t either.
I took the day off today, my husband is working, the house is clean and the dogs are sleeping. It’s me time, “Yeah…blogging time”; let’s see what other’s are up to?
Always when I think it can’t get any worse, there is another prompt that proves me wrong. Today’s question is a great example: