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A Sunday Evening : Life Story Writing
It was a fall day in Northern California, a quiet Sunday evening. I made whole wheat pasta for my lunches. Took a walk in the afternoon, went to the nursery and bought five plants to replace some that died over the hot days of summer. They had a big sale out at the growing yard. Talked to my brothers and sister yesterday. Jim was at Carol's mowing her lawn. I asked him what to do about my clover just as I had asked my other brother Rick. I was taken with their beautiful Wisconsin lawns when I was there for the month of June. I am determined to make my own small patch all lush and green like theirs. They recommended fertilizer. Well, my poor grass really liked being fed and watered and it looks much better with only a few questionable patches. I even mow it more regularly because there is now actually some lawn to mow. It's not all weeds. It's such a tiny patch compared to theirs. I love my flower beds more, sorry lawn, but there you have it. Northern California is not the place for a big lawn. The hills are brown in the summertime. My cousin remarked about it when she was here, "Is it always so brown?" "Yes," I'd replied. "It doesn't rain from March or April until about November. And then in January we have these rip roaring Pacific storms where umbrellas turn inside out and trees fall down and crush houses and the power goes out for days. You think those kerosene lamps in my house are for decoration, but they're not! I use them every winter because the power always goes out. " "I'd like to be here for one of those storms," Mary had said. "Well, it's pretty crazy and eccentric, I said."You never know where the pockets are going to be, where a tree is going to go down taking all the power with it. There are so many oaks that are hundreds of years old around here. The tree man once said to me that he saw one take out a 3-story house. But even with no power, I have my gas stove and hot water heater so I can take a hot shower. And I can have a fire in the fireplace and there are my kerosene lamps and you'd think I just about went back a hundred years in time. It's really OK and pleasant actually. Kind of a break from everyday life. Time to read books and talk to people. And the crews come out and work away in the downpour in their yellow suits and mend the lines." Article Directory: http://www.articledashboard.com Margaret Randall TellOurLifeStories.com I have been a journalist, a publicist, a technical writer and so much more. One of my passions is helping people tell their life stories - because we all have a story. Our stories define us, they tell who we are and where we come from. Our stories also help us to preserve the memories of our loved ones. It is important to preserve your stories so that they are not lost. |
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