For about one year, Mom was the neighborhood trash collector. She put on her hat and armed with her metal reacher, she executed her clean up mission in our apartment complex. Mom went as far as her legs and walker allowed. She eventually ventured into surrounding neighborhoods. I finally convinced her to stay near our complex only.
The community thanked her with notes left on bushes and often with a garbage bag tied to it. Neighbors even yelled out of the windows of their cars, “Thank you!”
By way of thanks, neighbors purchased cold slushes or coffees for Mom from the Human Bean coffee shop and gave them to her. Sometimes, when she walked near the shop, customers would hand her a drink.
Appreciation is lovely.
“L” is in the clouds with new baby sister “E” to kiss and hold. “Babies are so cute!”
“I think so too, I love babies.”
“I love her.”
“I thinks she loves me.”
‘I think you’re right. Baby E knows your voice.”
L nodded. “Inside Mommy’s tummy Baby E could hear us talking. That’s why E knows me. ”
“Yes, babies can hear through their mommies’ tummies.”
“Babies are so cute, it’s sad they grow up to be sisters.”
The adults laughed, assuming that she spoke of “I”, her middle sister.
I saw concern and sadness in L’s eyes. “It’s like puppies or kitties, we never want them to grow up.”
L nodded, “But they DO.”
“Yes, but the fun thing about baby sisters is that when they grow up, they can be your friends.”
L’s eyes widened, and she smiled a big smile.
Sisters are forever.
“Smiles and Violets flash exquisite or invisible by distracted souls.”
Edited from my post to #hangtenstories prompt #217-“Violet.”
Pen & acrylic watercolor.
#1linewed Stubborn–edited from my Twitter post on 6/19/17.
“Even a stubborn mule can free itself if it uses wisdom for a tool.”
Pen & colored pencil.
Creating the character’s consistency of qualities and features for #kidlitart is a challenge.
I really enjoy #drawing and designing. Such a fun job!
It’s funny how an AFPA amazes me, (Acceptance For Publication Agreement) when that’s what I work toward. I signed one a few days ago. Ta dah!
The opposite is also true. A Rejection Email is a milestone which amazes me.
We all need feedback. Any form of feedback.
Pure excitement burst inside me when I received my first rejection. I told my critique group and wished I’d thought to have my iPhone camera ready. Their expressions ranged from stunned, confused, and comical. The confused member asked, “Why are you happy about that?”
“For me, it means I’m alive, working, and achieving…something. I’m doing the task of writing plus submitting articles and stories–not stashing them. You all told me that the industry changed and doesn’t send rejection letters on a regular basis. So, writers are often robbed of feedback. I sent the wrong story to the wrong publisher. I need to know.”
Here’s my cheer for the next form of feedback, “Yayeeeee!”
“King’s bard, until he misspeaks a word, then never heard.”