keeping your muse alive

     Half the work of being a writer is coming up with something to write about. So, (to help myself, as much as to help others) I came up with a list of ways to keep your muse alive and well.

• Write a list of small-everyday-things that make you happy
• Be adventurous and do something you've never done before. (Like eat octopus or get a new hairstyle)
•  
• Put yourself in a crowd of people. Eavesdrop on a conversation and compose a story around it.
• Get your camera out and snap a few artsy photos.
• Read the dictionary :)))))
• Listen to music--or better yet, get dressed up and go to the theatre.
• Travel. Make a day trip to some nearby destination
• Perform some random act of kindness.
• Look out the window and describe what you see
• Interview somebody interesting and truly get to know them.
• Read read read!!!! Newspaper headlines, captivating novels, blog posts--anything will do.
• Pull out some old family albums for perusal
• Go to the office store and buy some fancy pens. (I don't know why, but this is one way I am able to start writing prolifically--without fail.)
• Search "funny cat videos" on youtube
• Practice different handwriting fonts.

the traveling gene



 ~ road maps ~

~ too much luggage ~

~ city lights ~

~ traveling companions ~

~ cruisin' the highway ~

~ country music ~

~ roughin' it ~

~ naps in the car ~

~ unplanned adventures ~

~ meeting new people ~

~ taking thousands of pictures ~

~ impulsiveness ~

~ hotel breakfasts ~

 

I love to travel. It must be a gene I inherited from my grandfather who told countless stories of foreign places and traveled right up until his passing. There’s something about choosing a destination and working your way towards it that is both inspiring and thrilling. 

            That’s why I am sooo excited about my summer this year; I will be gone every single week until mid-July, seeing new things and living life to the fullest! My tightly packed schedule incudes a trip to Hillsdale, MI for a college visit, and 'educational' vacation to Mackinac Island, two weeks at summer camp (both as a camper and a counselor), a mission trip to Kansas City, two or three days for sleeping and washing laundry, a family reunion in Iowa, and pipe organ camp in Manhattan, KS. Whew!! If I add many more things to my list, I'll need to hire an agent.

            It’s not likely you’ll see much of me after that either, because I’ll be slaving away at college applications and planning my trip to France. But I’m not complaining (and trying not to feel overwhelmed) because I am utterly happy God has opened up all of these opportunities for me! How long ago was it that I was longing for some excitement in life? Well now I’ve got it and I’m going to enjoy every second of it!  

            Unfortunately, that means I won’t be blogging for quite some time, but when I get back, you will get an onslaught of news and pictures. Plus, my friend Olivia H. has agreed to write a guest post sometime in the near future. She is an excellent writer and one of the strongest people I know!—whatever she writes will be an inspiration to the soul.

So long! Farewell!



~the island~

      So I’m baring my soul to the world and showing you what kind of romantical notions run through my mind! The following is a description about my favorite vacationing spot—Onset Island (you can read more about the island here.) Hopefully it gives you a glimpse into our paradise.

 

     Ellen breathed in deeply the mingling perfumes of salty air and sea lavender. She wriggled her toes deeper into the sand, and watched a sailboat lean precariously in the wind. This was her home—where she belonged! It was not much; just a twelve acre island off of Cape Cod, but it was more than enough for the young girl. Ellen could simply forget about everything on this island paradise—all things harrying and unpleasant were washed away with the tide leaving Ellen to run around barefoot and savor the small things in life.
 

            “Hey!” It was her little brother Eddie. “Wanna go fishing? Mom got back from the mainland, so we can use the rowboat now!” Ellen shrugged.

            “Sure!” she agreed. Fishing wasn’t her favorite thing to do, especially since she usually got stuck helping Eddie hook the sea worms. They were such nasty little creatures that wouldn’t stop writhing around. Getting up from her seat on the sandy beach, Ellen followed her brother down the board walk to the main dock. Gathering up their rods and tackle boxes, they jumped into the bobbing row boat and set off.

            “Let’s go over there!” shouted Eddie waving vaguely towards the opposite side of the island. “Then we can watch the canal boats while we’re fishing!” Ellen bent over the oars. Back and forth she went, sending the little boat farther and farther along in the rippling water. Eddie squealed with glee.

            “Go go go! Go Ellen Go!” He chanted. “Faster! Faster!” Ellen laughed and obliged her reckless brother by hauling on the oars with more force. Whew! It sure was a work out! Her biceps were burning by the time they reached the designated fishing spot.

            All afternoon they fished; Eddie never tiring of casting his line, and Ellen with her legs propped up hoping to get a tan. She stared upward at the endless expanse of sky interrupted only by the occasional tern wheeling daringly about. Water lapping against their boat and ship horns from the canal serenaded the two fishermen. Once again, Ellen marveled at the pure simplicity of island life. She wouldn’t mind if it lasted forever!  

All too soon, the daylight hours were running out. Beginnings of a stunning sunset were creeping up behind the fringes of trees and weathered cottages. Pinks and yellows and blues all mixed together in water and sky to create one of God’s greatest masterpieces.

            “Awwwwe Ellen!” breathed Eddie—deeply moved. “Look at that!”

            “Mmmmmmmm. It’s wonderful—simply divine!” The two figures sat, slowly darkening into silhouettes against the deep color. City lights from the mainland glittered brightly in the harbor, and the ever constant murmuring of wind and water was a crooning lullaby from the sea. Ellen dipped her oar into the water and stirred it slowly to watch the jellyfish light up like tiny Christmas lights. She breathed in deeply the mingling perfumes of salty air and sea lavender. This was her home—where she belonged!

...and some more pictures

     You must forgive me for posting more pictures of horses--but you can never have too many right? Personally, if we had hi-speed internet, I'd be googling videos and pics of horses all day.
But I digress.

     My sistah Clara had to send her horse Kaahla off to a new home today. Parting is such sweet sorrow. Fortunately, before the big white stock trailer pulled in our driveway we were able to have a photo shoot. Here are some of the results:

 

As the photographer I had one heck of a time getting Kaahla to focus on me. Grass seemed to help.

 

 

When your horse follows you without being asked, when he rubs his head on yours, and when you look at him and feel a tingle down your spine...you know you are loved.

John Lyons

 

All horses deserve, at least once in their lives, to be loved by a little girl.
Author Unknown



 

memoirs

           Four years ago (on my 13^th birthday), I got the best present a young girl could ask for—a retired quarter horse with soft eyes and a dirty white muzzle. His registered name is JT Santo Peppy though everybody calls him “Tex”. In addition to that, I give him endearing nicknames such as Texy Boy, My Old Man, Pretty Horsey,  JT, etc. He puts up with it fairly well as long as I give him plentiful amounts of apple treats.

 

Legend has it that Tex was a team penning champion—a cow horse that expertly cuts calves from the herd and drives them into certain paddocks. Whether or not he was really a champion, I childishly wondered what stories he could tell from his vast 20 years of experience.

 

 

Our friendship was special. I would ride him bareback and play that I was John Wayne riding through the west, or a contestant in a quarter-mile race. He would follow me around like a great big puppy while I did my chores. If I was going through a rough time I would throw my arms around Tex’s neck and pour out all my emotions into his mane. It felt good to have something solid I could hold onto. I know from personal experience why people say that horses are therapeutic for the human soul.

“The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man.” (Girls too.) –Winston Churchill

 

 

JT knew every trick in the book. Luckily, he was usually too lazy to try any of them, but occasionally he would blow out his stomach so I couldn’t tighten the cinch or pretend to limp when he didn’t want to work. He’d eat the corn stalks out of the garden, rub on Dad’s trees, chase my dog (scaring her half to death), and crib in his stall, leaving huge chew marks in the wood.

 

To make up for his shortcomings Tex had a special trick that I taught him at one point: whenever he saw I had a treat he’d bob his head up and down eagerly. 

            “Do you want a treat?"

*Tex bobs head yes.*

            “Am I your favorite person in the whole world?”

*Tex bobs head yes.*

            “Are you going to stay out of the garden from now on?”

*Tex bobs head yes.* 

Tex helped me grow as a person—something not just anyone can do for you. During 2011 Tex had three hoof abscesses in a row. Getting rid of them involved soaking his hoof twice a day and wrapping it in a baby diaper held on with gobs of duct tape. I hated it-- it gave me a sore back and took up too much time, but it taught me patience.

During the winter months, I had to carry horse jugs down to him twice a day to keep him hydrated. I hated that too, but it developed my perseverance (and some impressive biceps) 

Lastly, (this-is-going-to-sound-sappy-but-it-is-ever-so-true) Tex taught me how to be a friend and the importance of always being there for someone

 

 

So here’s why I am writing all of this. Exactly four years after Tex came to me, I am sending him to a new home. We are moving to the big city so I must part with my equine friend forever. :’(  He will have a cute little mare to keep company with and his own box stall to sleep in but I won’t have him to talk to or go for walks with. Good-bye sweet friend!