Signs, signs, everywhere there's signs

For more than half my life, I have taken everything that happens--good or bad-- as a sign.

Maybe that is an immature way to look at life, but sometimes it's the only thing that gets me through. I guess it mostly started when I began dating Big Daddy back in the 1800s, because our whole relationship has been a series of, "It was totally meant to be."

(That's another story for another day.)

As you all know, I fancy myself as a writer. Just like the other 1,946,321 people in the world trying to break their way into an already flooded literary market. (Speaking only of fiction.) At any rate, back last fall I went through what I shall always refer to as my "Grey Period" and decided without much cause or reason that I was essentially wasting my time.

Last academic year, I was fortunate enough to have one piece "published" and was asked to be an adviser on the campus anthology.

This year, I totally let time get away with me. I was all about the procrastination. I felt bad about missing out on something I claimed to "love" and took it as a sign that perhaps I wasn't supposed to be or even good enough to be a writer of any sort.

To make my long and whiny story short, one of the deadlines opened up again. The same avenue that I had won last year. I took it as a sign and planned on writing a little something that had been cooking in my brain...

The deadline was a week away--plenty of time, right? Well, as procrastination would have it, I waited until the NIGHT OF THE DEADLINE to even get started. So, I took the lazy way out, and pulled up this little gem:

Repeat (orginally posted on July 22, 2009)

I made a few modifications, corrected some grammatical errors and added a bit more just before the end, but essentially it is exactly the same. *

I won second place.

So, there again, I took my win as a sign. I need to write as if nothing more than to tell my grandchildren that Ninny/MawMaw/Granny did something besides level up on various farm-type games on Facebook** and graduate from college. Of course, I have that whole guilt story started, "Well, when your Mommy/Daddy was just a little girl/boy, I went to college, kept the house clean, cooked supper for PawPaw, held down two jobs and still had time to find the treasures on Treasure Isle and harvest my crops on THREE farms, drove uphill both ways and still remember the Great Flood of '10. You kids don't know what a 'hard life' is."

Plus I can't crochet or knit and don't care for cross-stitch or quilting.



I hope you'll bear with me as I embark on this great journey. I have set a goal for myself, and I know you all will keep me on task. More details to come....


*I would reprint the revised edition, but it died on the other computer a couple of months ago. I don't have another copy saved on my hard drive yet.

**Will Facebook ever go out of style? Will people ever say (or do they now), " I can't believe you did that?" Either way, I'd defend my games and my neighbors to the end.