#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 12 – Have you ever unplugged from the Internet for more than a week?

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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Sure have! And it’s probably time to do it again for my own sanity. 😀

Unfortunately, it’s not quite as easy as it was even a year ago.

Not every one is involved in social media, blogging, or watching cat videos.

But it can be a Herculean feat to conduct business without the Internet.

Call any business, private or government, and the menu will always refer you back to their website or app which sometimes can be an exercise in futility when you cannot find your particular issue address or the website and app are simply migraine-inducing. (I’m looking at you, CVS!)

Don’t want to go online? Not a problem, but you could end up in the queue for thirty minutes or more.

The last three doctors I’ve had REQUIRED certain documents be completed online prior to appointments.

Some vendors will recommend paperless accounts and billing is handled via email and websites. No one HAS to do it this way, but every paper billing received will have an insert encouraging you to “go green.” Some businesses will even charge for having to mail out a paper bill.

While I was using grocery delivery for over a year before the coronavirus pandemic, it’s now a near necessity for those of us in high-risk groups, or that are simply tired of people refusing to wear masks and social distance.

Vendors now entice us to shop online with “online only” bargains, double fuel points, and rewards cards.

The internet makes staying connected with family and friends easy. Shoot off an email, post to their social media accounts or start a video call, because who writes letters anymore? What’s even weirder is the growing dislike to talk on the phone!

I confess to having a private chatroom with my three adult children and one with six of my siblings. Though we all do end up online at times, usually we drop posts, comments, memes, and photos at random, 24/7. My daughter and I may have set records for the longest video chats. 😀

So when I say I’m taking a break from the Internet, I mean social media and blogging, because to walk away from the Internet altogether would be taking a break from life.

Hmm… now that I think about it… 😀

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Photo by Thomas Jensen on Unsplash

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 11 – Have you ever stolen anything? (Money, candy, hearts, time?)

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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Mom was the Terminator decades before the Terminator was a thing. If she said don’t do something, you didn’t. Period.

Walk into a store and steal? Nope. I wasn’t giving my mom a reason to kill me. I chose to live.

Daddy was Judge Dredd. His word was law. He said, “Go ahead, act a fool. Get arrested if you want to, but do not call me because I’m not coming to get you.”

I had eight siblings and that call never came from any of us. We knew Daddy was not to be played with. (Okay, there was that one time in the late 60s when my older sis took part in a some big street protest. The police herded all the students back into the high school, and parents were called. Daddy. Was. Not. Happy.)

While I never stole from a store, that doesn’t mean I didn’t steal. Five of those eight siblings were sisters, and four of us were close enough in age and size to wear some of the clothes.

Toss in a vat of PETTY and things “disappeared” all the time.

Wonder if Cleo still thinks about her favorite yellow sandals? 😀 😀 😀

Oh, and there was that whole thing with Napster and music downloading, but I’ll plead the Fifth.

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Image by jette55 from Pixabay

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 10 – Have you ever been genuinely afraid for your physical safety?

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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Boomers are the last generation to have enjoyed the freedom of an unfettered childhood, meaning, as long as we were home before the street lights came on, we played, explored, and visited friends without fear of murderers or sexual predators. Or maybe that was just my small mid-western town.

However, everything changed in the early 70s when a first-grader was grabbed off the street and murdered less than a mile from her home.

Panicked, parents arranged neighborhood carpools so children didn’t have to walk to and from school alone. Unfortunately, if you had after-school sports or cheerleading practice, you could end up walking home alone.

And I had both.

I lived just over a mile from my junior high school, all residential area, except for the last quarter mile past the Old Mill Pond. There were shoulders wide enough for a car to park and no sidewalks. It wasn’t a truly deserted spot as I could see my big blue house the entire way, but nearing dusk, the wind moving through the trees was spooky.

One evening I was half the distance past the pond when a car approached. I stepped farther onto the shoulder and the car continued past me. The old pukey, seafoam green station wagon was not a vehicle I recognized from the neighborhood. The car made a U-turn in the intersection behind me and came back in my direction.

I picked up a stick.

I kept walking but turned to watch the car approach. Tinted windows weren’t a thing then, but it creeped me out that as the car passed me, I couldn’t see inside. The car slowed but didn’t stop until it got to the corner just before my house. My heart raced as the car did a three-point-turn and started toward me, driving closer to the shoulder.

I’d just reached the spot where the sidewalk started—three-hundred-yards from my front door—and I broke into a sprint, never stopping or looking behind me. I collided with my brother at our front door. I guess I was a sight because he yelled for our parents. My family gathered around me as I tried to catch my breath. All Daddy had to hear was, “an old green station wagon kept driving by me,” and he and my brother were out the door. I didn’t know I was shaking until my sister brought me a glass of water and I couldn’t hold it.

Daddy didn’t find the car, which may or may not have been a good thing, nor did I sleep a wink that night. But my parents took me to the police department early the next morning to file a report.

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Image by Rudy and Peter Skitterians from Pixabay

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 9 – Has a teacher ever changed your life? How so?

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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I was fortunate to have many great teachers during my school years, but one will always stand above the rest.

Leon Buford – my fifth grade teacher, and my first African-American teacher.

He was an amazing teacher who not only made learning fun… and sometimes hilarious, but there was a nugget of wisdom and personal responsibility in every lesson.

It was Mr. Buford who first instilled in me not to react to the actions of others. He said people will use all forms of manipulation, even friendship and tears, to exercise control. We’re not responsible for their words and actions, only how we respond to them.

Those words are seared into my brain and not only guided my life decisions, but I passed them on to my children.

Mr. Buford passed away two years ago after teaching hundreds of children in the classroom, and continuing to serve their educational needs as a principal and district administrator.

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Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 8 – Do you think you’re currently operating at 100% capacity?

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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Are you kidding me? I’ve been running on coffee and Grace since May 30, 2019.

Some days I believe I’ve reached the acceptance phase of grief and it’s time to go to work, but then depression gut checks me and I’m back at square one which means no writing gets done.

I admire writers who continued to publish books in the last year and send them all big KUDOS! I’m just waiting for the day when I can join them again. 😉

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Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 7 – What was your very first job?

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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Like most teenage girls, my first job was babysitting… my five younger siblings; and no, there was no pay! 😀

But the experience paid off when my Mom recommended me to her coworkers, who in turn told their friends about me.

I was in business! LOL!

On a lark, I applied for a summer job at a day care center when I was fourteen… and got the job. The kicker is I kept the job right up to the summer I left for college, working summers and after school during the school year.

I didn’t forget about my private customers though, and my nights and weekends were often booked solid.

My name got around as a responsible babysitter who brought arts & crafts and books with her, and by the time I reached high school, I was babysitting for teachers, members of the police department and several of my Mom’s coworkers. I started passing jobs to my younger sister, and she would eventually pass on jobs to our younger sister.

I’m still in touch with several of the children I babysat for, and some are even Facebook friends, including the first infant I took care of… who turned FORTY last year. YIKES! 😀

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Image by Prawny from Pixabay

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 6 – What are you freakishly good at?

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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My sibs called me Spock (Star Trek) and The Professor (Gilligan’s Island) because I had a knack for organizing/planning/fixing things. From pranks on our parents to repairing (or hiding) damage done in their absence, I was the go-to fixer.

It carried over into adulthood and spread outside the family and I became “The Facilitator!” 🙂

Weddings, funerals, bake sales, t-shirt fundraisers, potlucks, I’ve done them all, big and small. I never turned down a donation of anything (had to get REAL creative with twenty-four bales of hay donated for a PTA picnic on country property), and I never went into the red on project or event.

I’ve also orchestrated quite a few adult pranks, but I’m not publicly owning up to which ones. Statute of limitations and all. 😀 😀

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Image from Quickmeme.com

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 5 – What’s the worst piece of advice you’ve ever been given?

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This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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My teacher pulled me aside one day, wearing a huge smile, and complimented me on my attention to detail and organizational skills. She then strongly recommended I reconsider attending a state university and instead enroll in the local business college because I’d make a fantastic secretary.

I felt confused and awkward…. because I was an honor student with a spot already paid for at a top state university. I was only in her Business Infrastructure and Office Machines class because, like many of my fellow seniors, I’d more than satisfied the credit requirements for graduation. Instead of a winter ceremony, we opted to take the legal class enrollment minimum (3 classes) so we could graduate with our class in the spring.

Her class was simply filler and she knew this.

She also knew I had a university spot waiting for me in the fall.

I told my guidance counselor and my mom, who both had words with her. She approached me two days later with the same huge smile (and what I now realize was fake sincerity) and said she hoped she hadn’t upset me but really did feel I’d be a great secretary.

Yeah. That was the apology.

I later learned she gave this same career advice to several other female students. African-American female students.

Microaggression, marginalization, and misogyny… with a smile, and I didn’t even know it at the time.

Wonder how many others were graced with her great advice?

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Oprah advice

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 4 – Are you living your life purpose — or still searching?

This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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I believe my life’s purpose is service to others and I’ve spent most of my life fulfilling it by organizing food drives, teaching adults to reading, visiting seniors in nursing homes, and even volunteering as a hugger for mentally challenged children and adults during public sporting events. I’ve gone from Trick or Treat for UNICEF (anyone remember that?) as a kid to writing and applying for grants as a parent to expand and promote art programs in schools, and buy technology for learning disabled students. I didn’t do these things for praise or profit, but to fill gaps created by budget cuts and short-sighted administrators/officials. My parents taught us that if one person suffers or goes without, it doesn’t matter how well you’re doing personally. We all suffer. We learned to pay it forward decades before the movie and movement, and hopefully inspired others to serve in similar ways.

I was sidelined by grief a couple years ago, and as I looked for ways to get out of my own head and help others, the pandemic and self-isolation arrived. I have a sis who also lives here in the same apartment complex. We learned early in the lockdown days there were disabled and senior residents who had no idea how to get groceries and medications delivered. We created lists of delivery services and their fees and added them to ziplock bags of fruit we put together and left them at apartment doors. The response was crazy! We not only helped people navigate quarantine life, but they shared the info with family and friends outside the complex, and we made a few new friends. 🙂

I believe all too often one’s life purpose is confused with one’s dreams.

It’s just my opinion, but I believe dreams fulfill the individual while purpose fulfills others. Sometimes, they can be one and the same and that’s the perfect win-win situation.

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#MarchWritingChallenge – Day 3 – Do you believe in magic? When have you felt it?

magic book

This March Writing Challenge of thirty-one questions is hosted by Marquessa, with questions from Alexandra Franzen‘s “100 questions to spark conversation and connect.

All are welcome to join in and a list of the questions can be found here.

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Magic as in abracadabra? No. While I do love a great illusion and took several trips in the 80s to see the shows of David Copperfield, for me it’s simply entertainment.

However, that doesn’t mean I don’t believe there are things science cannot explain.

Early in the summer I was fifteen, I dreamed of my maternal grandfather’s death and funeral service. It struck me as weird since he and I weren’t close. There were no ill feelings or anything like that. I thought my grandmother hung the moon and the stars, but could take or leave Granddaddy.

I didn’t tell anyone and forgot about it until six weeks later when the call came about Granddaddy dying from major heart attack at home.

From that point on, everything unfolded exactly as I’d dreamed. The trip from Michigan to Mississippi. The things which were said by some family members at the viewing and service. Even the dress I wore to the funeral which was not the dress I’d packed, but a dress Mom bought in Mississippi to go with the family theme and color scheme. (They do stuff like that for EVERY family gathering.)

But still, I kept my mouth shut.

It was weeks later in the fall when I finally told my best friend, Barbara, who to this day, forty-six years later, still calls me “Witchy” or “Witchetta.” Almost thirty years would pass before I told Mom… after my grandmother’s funeral.

It also took me weeks to sleep normally again, because while I never believed I was responsible for Granddaddy’s death, I didn’t want to dream of losing another family member… perhaps someone closer to me.

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Image by Yuri_B from Pixabay

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