What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?

When I was in school I had teachers pose this question often. As I teacher myself I probably asked the same question to my students. I am almost grown up and my main profession for over thirty years was teaching. 

When I was a child I wanted to be a nurse. I had the book pictured above and Mom would read it me and I would study all the pictures before I could read. I don't know when I decided I didn't want to be a nurse. Maybe someone got sick and I gagged or I saw blood after a household accident and realized I couldn't stomach it. 

By the end of high school I wanted to be a high school teacher. After taking an education class that required working with kindergarten students, I changed my mind. I got a degree in Elementary Education.

Recently someone asked, "If you could have done any other profession, what would it have been?"

Because of my love for books I always wanted to work in a bookstore. Being surrounded by books and people that love books seemed like a dream job. I also dreamed of owning a bookstore. I pictured a cute little shop with a cafe that served coffee drinks, homemade cookies, and other delicious pastries. It would be full of new and used books, comfy chairs, plants, a resident dog or cat, and soft music playing in the background. Now I just visit favorite bookstores, sip coffee and eat a homemade cookie.

My love of books also led me to wanting to be a librarian. I spent many hours in the library growing up and I loved the quiet surroundings, the unlimited amount of books to read, and the kind librarians. I was able to fulfill this dream when I returned to my hometown after retirement. I worked part time in the same library where I enjoyed books in childhood. For personal reasons I had to give the job up, but I sure loved it.

I also wanted to work in a florist shop. I love to grow flowers and arrange them in bouquets.Being surrounded by flowers and bringing joy to customers with my arrangements was another dream job. Along this same vein, I would be in seventh heaven if  I could work in a plant nursery. It would be so fun to help gardeners pick plants and answer gardening questions. 

What I want to be when I grow up?

I want to own a bookstore with a cafe, a corner full of flowers to arrange for customers, a resident dog, a plant nursery out back, and a writing corner for me to get all my thoughts down each day while sipping a latte and eating a homemade cookie. I would beam as each customer would leave with a bag of books, a bouquet of flowers, some plants for their garden, and a pastry for later. Now that is amazing dream! 

If you could choose another profession, what would it be?

This is Alabama Booksmith bookstore in Homeword, Alabama.

A Perfect Day

 Wouldn't it be magically if you could take all the moments of enjoyable days and put them into one perfect day? I would just love it. This would be a perfect day for me in the summer. What would be your perfect day?

Awaken about eight o'clock, let Riley out, then have morning snuggles with him.

Brew a cup of strong dark roast coffee, add a dash of cinnamon vanilla creamer and enjoy it while sitting in my favorite chair.

Catch up on news, social media, emails, and texts.

Watch Riley's daily ritual of waiting for the mail lady and maybe the UPS guy. It is always the same and is hilarious every single day. Riley hasn't figured out Sundays yet. He still waits.

Put on my comfortable gardening clothes, sunscreen, and hat and take a garden tour. Mentally make a list of what chores need to be done today. Water, weed, deadhead.

Pick flowers and arrange a bouquet.

Meet up with the Corner Book Club at The Blackboard Cafe in Wallace and have a great discussion about yet another great book.

Come home and head to the She Shed with Riley to read a book or write while favorite music playing.

Take Riley for his daily run.

Get together with the family and enjoy another weekly Family Dinner.

Come home, make an adult beverage, enjoy time with the cats, and wait for the lights to come on in the backyard. While waiting catch up with a friend on the phone.

Come inside and watch some favorite television shows. On this day it might be "Home Town", " BBQ Brawl", " Pioneer Woman", " Barefoot Contessa", or "Law and Order" reruns.

Go to bed, say my prayers. and count my blessings.

Riley waits.

Now that is a perfect day!

Little Known Facts About Me

Since I took a break from blogging I thought I would share a bit about myself today. People that have read my blog in the past know I love flower gardening, reading books, my pets, photography, and my family and friends. Today I am sharing little known facts about myself.  You may already know some of these. Let's see:

1. As an adult I cannot remember phone numbers. I can recite our family phone number from childhood, but stumble when someone asks me my own number.

2. I drive around and make myself late for an event rather than parallel park.

3,  I am impatient with untangling cords, strings of lights, wind chimes, and hoses.

4.  I have always hated to back up a car. Even with my fancy screen on my car now, I still hate to back up. Perhaps it is because I have hit a few things while backing up.

5. I cannot go grocery shopping without a list. First I make a random list of what I need. Then I make a organized list in the order of the store. Somehow last week I still managed to forget napkins, paper towels, and paper plates. Go figure.

6. I love photography, but I don't do well taking pictures of people. I love to capture images of flowers, landscapes, my pets, and sunsets. I don't do as well with people.

7. I don't care for kale, raw onions, hot peppers, arugula, pepper, and vinegar and salt potato chips.

8. Even though I am a dog lover, I get anxious around strange dogs.

9. I have never been able to grow delphinians, lupins, or butterfly bushes.

10. I hate good-byes.

My dog Riley and his buddies.

I Am a Writer

 I am a writer. I have written in journals, in my head, on scraps of paper, at writing retreats, with my students, and on this blog. I have been on hiatus from posting on my blog.

 I am also a reader. I love to read poetry, newspaper articles, essays, memoirs, nonfiction, fiction, and much more.  

Starting today I am going to take all those thoughts, ideas, words, stories, and memories that have been swirling around in my head and heart and put them down here again.

 I love this advice from Billy Collins. I am off to find a yellow pencil.

Advice to Writers by Billy Collins

Even if it keeps you up all night,
wash down the walls and scrub the floor
of your study before composing a syllable.

Clean the place as if the Pope were on his way.
Spotlessness is the niece of inspiration.

The more you clean, the more brilliant
your writing will be, so do not hesitate to take
to the open fields to scour the undersides
of rocks or swab in the dark forest
upper branches, nests full of eggs.

When you find your way back home
and stow the sponges and brushes under the sink,
you will behold in the light of dawn
the immaculate altar of your desk,
a clean surface in the middle of a clean world.

From a small vase, sparkling blue, lift
a yellow pencil, the sharpest of the bouquet,
and cover pages with tiny sentences
like long rows of devoted ants
that followed you in from the woods.

Happy Birthday Riley!

Three years ago Riley was born at a farm outside of St. Maries Idaho. He didn't come to live with us until later in July. Riley brought a whole new ray of light into our lives. He adored his older brother Tucker, he adored us. Let's just say that Riley adores anybody he comes in contact with. He loves people.

 His brother Tucker taught him to alert us when the UPS truck was out front, Tucker also taught him the importance of going to the crate when it is time in the evening. Tucker also taught him how to inform us when it was time to get up and let the dogs out of the crates in the morning.

Riley had a tough adjustment period when he lost his brother in November. He lost his appetite, was afraid to go outside by himself, and tried to remember the skills Tucker taught him. Riley had never been alone in his life.  He rallied and by the holiday season he went with us to family functions.

Riley is a Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier. I had a friend years ago that had one and I fell in love with her dog. After we lost our dog Annie the summer of 2017 I started to read ads of available dogs. That was how I found Riley. We had only had sporting and herding breeds before. A terrier is a breed like no other. Riley hasn't been easy to train and he does have a stubborn streak.

 Riley loved his cousins next door and watched at the gate when they came outside. The dogs were elderly dogs so Riley didn't get to play with them much. Sadly, the two dogs have gone to doggie heaven , but Riley still runs to the gate looking for them. Riley also got to visit Grandma Mary at Kindred one time before she died. Mom loved Riley at first sight.

He loves to go in the car to his favorite places where he can run his heart out. He also loves to go to to espresso stands that give out dog treats. He loves his toy buddies Wheat and Oat. As long as Riley is with us, he is happy. He is very photogentic and enjoys life. He brings us joy every day.

I Want To Be Famous In The Way

Famous The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds watching him from the birdhouse. The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek. The idea you carry close to your bosom is famous to your bosom. The boot is famous to the earth, more famous than the dress shoe, which is famous only to floors. The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it and not at all famous to the one who is pictured. I want to be famous to shuffling men who smile while crossing streets, sticky children in grocery lines, famous as the one who smiled back. I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous, or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do.  Naomi Shihab Nye What about me? I want to be famous to the child I helped up when he wrecked his bike.  I want to be famous to the older woman that couldn't reach the last pack of toilet paper in the grocery store.  I want to be famous in a way a bookmark is famous, because it always knows where it belongs. I want to be where I belong to provide support, kindness, and love.