Talking!!!

I got up fairly early this morning and started preparing some breakfast.  Bacon and eggs for Mark and his dad and homemade Egg McMuffins for me.  It never takes that long to prepare breakfast because I do the bacon in the microwave...to me there is no other way to prepare bacon.  Mark's mom fell and broke her hip and has been in the hospital since Thursday night last week.  I know I haven't mentioned that in my blog until now, but that is because I had all my blogs preplanned.  I have to be organized or I can't function well.  She is doing better (the hip part anyway) and hopefully will be moved to rehab this week.


Mark's parents have a huge sunroom on the back of their house that over looks the woods and their pond.  I saw the biggest buck standing at the edge of the pond today.  He ever so slowly lowered his head to drink from the pond. (Mitchell you would have croaked at the size of this deer)  I would have loved to have gotten a picture, but the old blackberry doesn't zoom that far.  Shortly after he left, a crane swooped in and got a huge fish.  We have seen raccoons, deer, possum and lots more wildlife around the pond.

Went to the post office and there in my box was an envelope stuffed with coupons for Amanda.  I was thrilled.  To top it all off, Brooks had clipped them very neatly.  I just added them to the ones I had already clipped for Amanda.  I need to meet up with her and give her all my bags of goodies for Fed by Faith.  I love the name of the ministry that she started.  A big "Thank You" to Brooks Sears for taking the time to send the coupons.

Got 3 calls today to book me to come and perform my comedy  routine.  I am thrilled.  I have bookings now in December, January and February.  The Lord is really opening up doors for me.  I love it.  The last call I got today was a result of my website.  No referrals, just googled and found me.  Whew!!!  That $19.95 a month is already paying off.  That just tickled me down to the very depth of my soul.  I was searched and found on the internet....no autographs please. lol

Been working on my book this week, or fretting over it might be a better word.  I have outlined the book and pretty much have the story in my mind.  World War II plays a part in the story line and it causes me to fret.  Mark told me to quit worrying over it because it is not the deciding factor in the story.  His advice, "make the main thing the main thing".  Great advice, so I have quit worrying about that part.  I love to write and this is the 3rd attempt on a book.  The other 2 are in the round file along with rejected articles.  I finally hit upon something about my writing.  I am not technical (please I can't do big words) nor am I news worthy.  By news worthy, I mean writing about events and happenings don't appeal to me.  I write descriptive things that paint you a picture.  I like for you to read my stories and get a real picture in your head of what I am talking about.  I want you to taste the foods I describe and feel the hot sweltering July sun beat down on your back as though someone has a hot iron on you.  I also realized that some are just meant to write short stories, and some are meant to turn out the next great American Classic.  I think I am the short story girl, but  I am going to attempt this one last book.  The main reason for the attempt is because the story line is basically true but with a big twist of fiction. 

I am including a story that won a contest for me back about 12 years ago.  No money was involved just the honor of winning.  I have since revamped it a bit and got a little more descriptive in the details.

Yesteryear

By: Tracey Overby-Garner

I watched as black Carolina dirt slowly swirled down the drain. The last reminders of the work I had done that day. I lazily strolled to the porch remembering not to slam the screen door as I settled down in an old weather beaten rocker on the large expansion of the porch. My eyes lazily look over the corn fields that seems to have a never ending stretch. Their golden tassels standing tall as though lifting their arms in thankfulness to the abundant rain and sunshine. Fireflies buzz around as their light shines against the twilight of the evening. Frogs croaking down by the pond as if their song was being played to a sold out symphony crowd. Heaped up baskets of vine ripen tomatoes and golden yellow squash fill the porch waiting for the masterful hands to craft them into a scrumptious delight. The sounds and smells fill me with a nostalgia that makes my chest feels has though it will burst into a flurry of unforgettable delight. My body suddenly jerks as the subway comes to a halt, and I slowly come back to the reality of my life. The doors slowly slide open and unwillingly I rise to leave. Stepping out onto the hard cement and walking down the people laden street, bumping into total strangers that I will never know their names. I make my way to my dingy dark apartment as my heart aches for the times of yesteryear . No fresh cut grass to tantalize my nostrils announcing the arrival of summer. No daffodils peeking up from the ground as spring makes its grand entrance. My mouth waters as I think about those vine ripen tomatoes. Two pieces of Wonder bread all smothered in Duke’s mayonnaise with those crimson slices glistening in between. A tall slim glass of fresh squeezed lemonade to wash down that delight. My mind wanders to a time that was simpler that I had unconsciously tucked away in the far corners of my mind. What has it been? Five, ten no fifteen years since I left that little boy named Billy behind. How could I have let that much time pass without even a call? Without even as much as a card. In the recess of my mind, I see that young boy walking down the dusty lane with a well worn suitcase in hand, heading for the big city to make a name for himself. William he would be known as now to all the dignified personalities he would meet. He had made a name for himself, but at what cost? He had simply gained the whole world, but felt as if he had lost his own soul. Oh, how he had longed for something more than that little town could have given him all those years ago. Funny, now he longed for that little town and the finer things in life that only it held. The very things he rebelled against in that small town are now the very things his heart ached for. The neighbor helping you finish harvesting your fields before the big storm, even though his crops were still in the fields. Passing the day away visiting on the porches of friends who knew you better than you knew yourself. The smell of apples and cinnamon as a freshly baked pie cools on the sills. The speckled hound dog dancing around announcing the arrival of a visitor. Yes, by all counts those were the days. There is an ache in his heart that nothing in the city can even begin to heal. He rises slowly and lets out the breath that he had been holding. Picking up the phone he dials that far away land. “Mom, this is Billy. Can I come home?’