Growing up I never bought a diary or journal for myself, but I did receive a few as gifts. Flowers and butterflies in a variety of colors decorated the hardback cover and the inside pages. The paper was soft and inviting. When I ran my hand over it I felt the urge to write.
It was ready to hold all my stories, fears, worries, crushes, pet peeves, joys, discoveries, hopes, and dreams. With my favorite well-chewed pen, I was ready to document my life!
But I could never make myself write in it. Continue reading “My Fear of Journaling”
Thunder rolls through the air. Dark gray clouds fill the sky in every direction. Molly won’t usually go potty during a storm so I try to take her out when I hear one beginning. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest. I love how the rain sounds as it falls and the fresh smell that fills the air. Because I’ve spent more than half my life in that rainy part of the country I don’t always notice storms right away. Soon after the thunder announced itself I took Molly out hoping she would go.
I opened the garage door and discovered a steady rain coming down. Molly stood on the threshold calculating if it would be best to go now or later. She opted for later, it’s a good thing she was out just an hour ago. We watched it rain for a while before Molly declared it was time to back inside.
The smell outside was completely unexpected. Instead of inhaling a fresh scent, my nose dutifully notified me that somewhere nearby was a very large, very dirty, fish tank. Do you know what I mean? The stink of algae and muck and fish. We live near a few small lakes and a river. I don’t know if that has anything to do with it because I’ve never smelled this unless I was standing next to the water or a fish tank in need of serious cleaning. The stink is today’s mystery. Continue reading “Dear Diary”