Quaking in My Boots
My first post, my first blog, my anxiety. As I read other fellow Slicers encouraging us firsties, I thought I would try. Getting older you start to care less about appearances and want to jump in both feet. So here I go!
I have used wrting as therapy for myself, entertainment for others, and encouragement for dear friends and family. That is my quandry; what is my purpose here?
To become a better teacher I need to write. That is my answer. I don’t like being reviewed, checked on, critisized. And that is my first lesson, as a teacher I must respect and honor my students’ writing first. So here I go.
Pulling into my driveway last night, coming home from work late, again. Exhausted, tired, frustrated with myself, I can never seem to catch up. I tell myself all the time, “It’s impossible, you will never be done. It’s called life.” Sighing, as I pull into the gravel drive, my headlights shining down the path, with a dim light surrounding the area alongside the drive I see my favorite little guy, Bunny. He’s small, swift, and happy. Don’t ask me how I know, I just know. Something about that quick, low movement across the grass in the stillness of the evening, how could he not be content?
Once again I remind myself, nature speaks to me, calms me. She reminds me the important things in life are the little things, those small moments that make me happy. I have a long list over the years. My adventures through this beautiful world always keep me in my place.