I am a little rusty with my writing skills. I haven't used them in so long, I feel like what I'm writing is rambling. Maybe that's what it should be. I loved to write as a child and even into my early 20's, but as I got older, it seemed work and all the baggage of life was more important. Writing was for "daydreamers". I've decided I want to daydream again.
I used to spend my time when I was young, sitting in the woods under a tree or beside the creek, pretending to be in a different time and creating a story in my mind about Indians and settlers. Or make up conversations of what the animals would be saying to each other. It would play out in my mind as if it was actually happening. I was blessed with a very vivid imagination. (I learned never to pass my tales off as real to my mom. But that's a different topic.) I grew up in the country on a traditional farm, with lots of acreage. There was the fields of corn, the huge family garden, the barn and numerous outbuildings, the woods over on the hill. It was a perfect playground for my imagination. But I think I left it there. At least for a little while.
My little Boo recently came into my life. (See her picture below.) It has been years since I had a dog of my own. She is such a sweet little soul and is so animated. When she looks at me I can hear what she is saying and even have to translate for my boyfriend when she talks to him. He just looks at me like I'm nuts. But my imagination is flowing again and I want to write my poems and stories again.
