T stands for Essay Contest....

 

    Welcome fellow T partiers......  I'd like to begin by offering my condolences to Elizabeth for the lost of her friend. I know what that feels like. I'm sure we are all sending you our love and big warm hugs.  

I was strolling around the garage this morning with my cup of coffee and i remembered i wanted to show you the amazing cast iron plant stand i found at the flea market in Fredericksburg a few weeks ago.. 

I think it is going to clean up beautifully. A little paint... i'm thinking oil rubbed bronze and maybe copper?? 

Now, you may remember that i entered an Essay Contest here in my little town. Its the Writer's Club First Annual Essay Contest. The Theme was 'I write when i feel.... ? '  750 words/ 2-3 pages double spaced.. So many things popped up to 'stand in my way' of seeing this thing through.. After i sign up and turn in my essay i find out that Hubby has a Golf Tournament that same day.  No way can we do both.. AND i have to be present to win! Man! So hubby forgoes his Golf Tournament. Yeah , he's a good guy.. THEN... the concrete people who were supposed to come the day before the contest to pour a walkway for us and a porch on hubby's shop don't show up... they need to come the day of the Contest! So hubby can't come with me.. So feeling brave i drive myself to the Contest... nervously sit in the bleachers... I see several women that look to be in my age category.. ooooh boooy.. competition! Finally they call out the three names in my age group and they say 'And the winner is...... '   ME!!!!!    Wow ! What a thrill that was!! I was so disappointed that hubby didn't get to hear my name called for 1st place... But by now i think he's ready for me to get over it... I'm still on Cloud 9!! lol Now if your STILL with me.. after much tribulation trying to figure out how to get this Essay on here without having to retype it all Here is the Essay! If you are so inclined to read it.. If not thank you for making it this far.. I  hope you've had a fantastic week too!! I will be along to visit!! Happy T day! Hugs! deb Remember the Theme is 'I Write When i Feel.... ?' 

       I write when the words in my head which begin as a murmur, swell, surge and spill, overflowing onto the paper.  I put pen to paper when emotions run high ….. or low.  I ‘am a quiet, reserved person that has few friends I ‘am comfortable sharing with my thoughts and deepest feelings.  So for thirty years I have kept a journal.  It all began with the pregnancy and birth of my daughter, a blessed and tumultuous time in my life. I needed someone to confide my fears and helplessness.  The flow of pen on paper was somehow soothing, comforting, a release for my emotions that at times threatened to overwhelm. 

     At first my journals were a way to express myself in a safe environment, sheltered from judgment or ridicule.  I would write about my frustrations as a first time parent and new wife. Then I began noting my daughter’s accomplishments, the date she rolled over, took her first step, her first words.   I wrote with pride about her achievements in softball, band and graduation.  Soon I found myself writing about grandchildren and how I missed them.  Later I envisioned her reading the journals one day so, I wrote to remember family that were no longer with us, stories of my childhood and wisdom gained.   The journals have evolved over the years. They have become whatever I needed them to be.  The place to dream about the future, vent a frustration or a place to share a joyful event, worries, or when my heart overflowed or had been broken.  I wrote about the loss of my Grandparents and then Parents when they passed.  I’m sure tears stain the pages still.  But the words are out and not in.   I wrote about the exhilaration of being in a hot air balloon for the first time on my 25^th Anniversary.  My words could not adequately describe the joy and breathtaking views.   I have not written about the fear I felt when my husband had his heart bypass surgery. Somehow the words are still tied up inside and have not found their way onto the page. I know they will writing takes patience.   Lately my husband and I have been figuring out how we fit together in retirement. It’s a whole new ballgame and writing helps me figure that out. 

     The joy of writing did not begin or end with journals.  My Grandmother and I were separated when I was young. There was a thousand miles between us.  This was in the days before email, text or Zoom. Long distance phone calls were expensive.  So we wrote letters when we missed each other.   I felt quite special opening the mailbox to find a letter just for me.  So began a lifelong practice of writing letters to keep in touch with friends and family.  To be honest I don’t receive many letters in return. However that does not dampen my enthusiasm in writing them.  I’ll keep writing letters as long as others enjoy receiving them.  I find I write about things I might not be comfortable talking about in person.  I have time to find just the right words.  Letters let you can go back and reread, find the nuances you might have missed the first time.   I started keeping the letters I received.  They are tied up with string in the bottom drawer of my rolled top desk. I wish I had thought to keep my Grandmothers letters. 

     I write when I ‘am feeling creative.  I have started and abandoned several stories.  The excitement and anticipation of beginning the journey on a blank page eventually develops into frustration and dwindling words.  David and Rowan are still lost in their haunted house, Jamie and Nicole have had their hands poised over a magical unicorn pin for years and I’m still wondering  if the race horse will catch his shadow.  So many adventures are waiting satisfying conclusions.  I still hope to find my way back to them.

     It has come to me that if someone could gather all my journals, letters and stories I have written over the years they would have a snapshot of my life.  It has also occurred to me to have a big bonfire one day and put all the words in my journals on the wind.  That after all these years the writing was just for me and not meant to be shared.  Could anyone other than me see past the anger, frustration, and sadness and see the joy, love and celebration of my life?  I write when I ‘am all of the emotions, overflowing down my arm and out my pen.