So Beck mentions to me the other week that she found some of the stuff I had written here many, many years ago (okay, 10).  Most of it was poetry.  Now, I have no problem posting up poetry.  I love poetry.  Some of my favorite books are poetry.  Shel Silverstein, Maurice Sendak and Dr. Suess are great examples.

No, the problem I have with the poetry I’m about to direct you to is that it is so… well, sappy.  And by sappy I mean dripping, thick.  I mean pour over your pancakes thick.  I’m surprised I didn’t scare Beck away with it.

I will admit.  I’m a sap.  I’m a romantic.  Chivalry lives on so long as I do.  I hold doors, and say ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’.  And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been told not to call someone ‘sir’ or ma’am.  I even call my niece (currently 8) ma’am.

Point being, I’ve always been very flowery and sappy when it comes to certain things.  But some of this is way off my own deep end.

You can read them on the Poetry page.

The other thing she found was a digital copy of a story I wrote in high school.  It was submitted to the writing contests and won the school contest but lost in the regional.  It’s a true story about the day I found out my father had died.  I was 14 I think when it happened, on December 12th.  So you have an idea when Christmas isn’t my favorite season.  (Halloween is if you care to know).  The story is called Final Goodbye, read it here.

All of these can always be accessed via the Scribblings page.

Anyway, enough for now.  I will post more on the development of the garden shortly.  Here’s a hint: I harvested some summer squash the other day!  I didn’t take pictures mostly because they met their fates later that same day :)