"Mom, Let Me Do It; You Can Write About It!"

photographer unknown

"Mom, let me do it; you can write about it," was the rallying cry that allowed my daughter to motivate me to be manipulated by her curiosity. This is how it all went down...tonight I was helping my husband irrigate our lawn. Mattie, my 16 year old daughter came out to visit when she noticed a snail laboriously climbing away from the water up the irrigation pipe. She was trying to pull it off the pipe, but it had its suction on full power and she couldn't budge it without partitioning it. She didn't want to hurt the snail, so my husband told her to put water on the pipe and the snail would let go. Which it did. She tried to put it on my arm but the thought of a 2 inch snail on my person was giving me the willies. My foolhardy husband let her put the snail on his arm and when she lifted it off, it left a string of boogers. Then she came after me again wanting to set it on my toe. I still refused, and I was very aware that she was willing to hold the shell but not let the slug-looking body touch her skin either. Ha. Those unspoken thoughts were derailed when she put on me the one thing that got me to comply. On the list of my journal writing prompts under the "PROMPT" tab is "Try something new and write about it." It took her two tries before I would let the snail rest on my toe. First response is that it was very cold against my skin and it wasn't as slimy as I thought it would be, soft and not snake-like. I'm glad it didn't suction itself to my skin even though I'm pretty sure a snail isn't a blood sucker. I like their shells, but what I found the most interesting is watching the tentacles of the snail with it's eyes on the tentacle tips investigating my toe. I wonder which of the two of us was more afraid?

JOURNAL PROMPT: Try Something New And Write About It!

No Rest For The Wicked

Cartoonist unknown

Recently, as one day turned into three hectic days, and I moved from one task to the next without a break, I thought of a saying my mother would tell me, "There is no rest for the wicked." I certainly didn't feel wicked, but Ha, I wasn't getting any rest either. Anyone acquainted with my mother would know the irony of that statement coming from her. She is as kind, good, and sweet as nectar in a honeysuckle as one would find in a woman of her caliber. And yes, she is hardworking too. Even at age 82, she has taken on the task of learning a new doll pattern and in the past 3 months she has made 40 dolls with full outfits, hair, and crocheted sweaters. My mother is amazing. Her meaning in using the phrase was to keep going, working hard is a part of life. I'm fascinated with the origin of words, sayings, and their meanings. "No rest for the wicked" originates from Isaiah in the Bible chapters, 48 & 57, and is written as "No peace for the wicked." I'm glad in our family I see peace encompassing my mother and all her children even on the crazy busy days.

JOURNAL PROMPT: Write down a quote, saying, or idiom frequently said in your home. Do you say or think about that phrase? What is it's origin?

WHAT IF THEIR STORY WAS MY STORY?

I often reflect over my life with wonder and gratitude...why was a I so lucky/blessed to be born in a free country to kind loving parents among a smorgasbord of awesome siblings, four sisters and four brothers. In a family that big, we ate a lot of home-made bread, soups, hot cereal, bottled fruits and I even remember powdered milk & water being added to a gallon jug of  milk to help it stretch further. However, we never went without food. Even though we sometimes bickered and life brought our family challenges, we could always depend on the comforts of home, security, full bellies, faith, and lots of love. Yesterday and last weekend, as I listened to stories of people fleeing their homeland, being without food for days, and heard the question "what if their story was my story," I felt an increased desire to reach out and lift up. To do better today than yesterday; to make a difference in the lives of others including my own immediate family.
JOURNAL PROMPT: Start your journal entry with "What if their story was my story..." (Choose someone/something specific.) How would this change you? How does this change how you feel about others?