Writing Life Stories
With Glenda Council Beall
Words from a Reader
Saturday, May 14, 2022
The Good and the Bad this Week
Monday, May 9, 2022
Join me in this writing class on Tuesday evenings, 6 - 8 PM - from your own home
Pass the word!
We will answer all of your questions about how to write your true life stories. Where do I begin? How can I write about my long life? Who can I include? What can I include?
Sunday, May 8, 2022
Happy Anniversary Party was party filled with love.
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Gay and Stu in 2010 |
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Fifty years ago, 1971, Stu and Gay were married in the living room of our family home. |
Saturday, April 23, 2022
Memories of outdoor fun
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The broad part in front of the seat was where my little black poodle, Brandy, sat and rode with me. He would lean into turns and his long black ears flew with the wind. |
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A dirt bike similar to the ones Barry rode in the 70s. |
Sunday, April 17, 2022
Easter Sunday then and now
Today has been just like any day here in my place in the city.
My family members went to church, some for two services because they sing in the choir. I don't go to church because churches are the most air polluted places on Easter and most holidays. With all the lilies and all the perfume and cologne that is worn, I would have an attack. My bronchial tubes would spasm and I could not breathe. But, I can watch the same service tonight when I tune in to the Alpharetta Presbyterian Church on YouTube.
The pastor just returned from Ireland where he and his wife visited their daughter. Although fully vaccinated, the pastor caught COVID. He said he had very mild symptoms. He is back with us now and I look forward to hearing him speak.
I look back on my childhood when my mother made sure I never missed attending church on Easter. Gay and I always had new dresses and dress-up shoes to wear. The church we attended was called Beulah Methodist and was located on the edge of a pine forest on a dirt road in Worth County. I enjoyed Sunday School because I liked our teachers, but I hated having to sit through a sermon by a big red-faced man in the pulpit. I can't remember ever hearing a preacher who spoke in a normal voice. They all yelled at us. They slammed their hands, and the bible sometimes, on the lectern. I wondered why the preachers were so angry at all the people who came to church. I knew I had not done anything bad, at least nothing that shouting-man knew about.
I often tuned out the preacher and focused on a bird singing outside or a wasp that had come in through the open windows. It buzzed around the ceiling and, at times, was right over the preacher. I almost laughed out loud when I imagined what would happen if that wasp dropped down on the angry man's head.
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Lisa, Lee, and Lyn, my little nieces absolutely adorable |
I looked forward to the Easter Egg hunt held after church. Gay and I and the other girls were not dressed for climbing through the long grass and over downed pine limbs. We had no nice smooth lawn at the church. The front yard was dirt, not a blade of grass, so the eggs had to be hidden in the woods. Gay and I were very young, maybe four and six, and I was a little more assertive than my little sister. I held her hand and pulled her along with me, but there was a neighbor boy a little older than I who always found the most eggs. He crowed about it. I wanted to smash his basket against a tree. But we knew we had another Easter Egg hunt when we got home.
The hunting was much better there and we had no competition. We had awakened to find pretty pastel baskets beside our beds. A chocolate rabbit nestled in the green fake grass. Our hunt was over quickly and then all the family gathered for dinner around the big dining table. With four older brothers there, Mother prepared a huge meal. She was amazing in the kitchen. We always had homemade biscuits which she rolled out by hand, several vegetables, pork roast or roast beef, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Everyone drank sweet iced tea except Daddy who drank from his large cup of coffee with milk at every meal.
Easter was always a time for the family to gather at Mother and Daddy's house even after we were all grown. Eventually, we had to add more tables as my siblings' families grew. The Easter Egg hunts became a ritual with all my nieces and nephews. While they hunted on the front lawn, we adults stood on the front porch and watched. Memories of those times will forever be stamped in my mind. The family was important to my parents and to all of us in my generation. I think it is still important to most of my nieces and nephews, some who are now grandparents.
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Mother in her apron on the far left with other family members on the porch, all of whom are gone now. |
I hope you, my readers, have had a wonderful day wherever you are. I hope that Easter heralds Spring is coming soon to my area.
Leave a comment or send an email if you have memories of Easters past. I love to hear from you.
Friday, April 15, 2022
City Girl? Country Girl?
Got my hummingbird feeder up but so far no one has visited |
I saw these cute little birds that hang on my pots and love the owl and the cardinal. |
As you can see, a lovely little lake lies beyond my deck. Today the ducks were loud and flapping away. |
Lexie loves our deck and is very happy to be outside when I am working with the plants. |
In the big blue pot is an azalea with some creeping jenny at the base of it. It will be pretty. The yellow flower claims to be a pollinator and will entice birds, bees, and butterflies. |
Gardening Then and
Now, July 2015
By Glenda Council Beall
Once tall azaleas sprawledacross my ground, pinks, whites
and lavenders. Outside my door,
blue hydrangeas bloomed.
Gardenias’ fragrance filled
my yard space, sent me back
in time to bell-shaped skirts,
verandahs in a fantasy southland.
Today I water red geraniums,
pink petunias in pots stacked
and spread across my porch perched
above tree limbs decorated with yellow
finches, Carolina wrens, and blue buntings.
I watch tomato vines, squash blossoms,
a spineless melon plant climb up wire cages.
No longer do I wipe sweat, kneel on hard soil,
bend to dig in dirt, and pray the deer don’t eat
my seedlings. From my easy chair, I observe
my favorite things in my container garden—hovering
hummingbirds, butterflies, and squirrels. I smile
as a doe and two young fawns pass by below.
Monday, April 11, 2022
Meet poet, Kenneth Chamlee
Wednesday, April 6, 2022
April is Poetry Month
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Voices Of The Night : A Psalm Of Life
Life is but an empty dream! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Monday, April 4, 2022
What is Wrong with Me?
A
depression diagnosis is made when at least five of the following symptoms occur
nearly every day for at least two weeks:
- Depressed mood
- Loss of pleasure
in all or most activities
- Significant
weight change or change in appetite
- Change in sleep
- Change in
activity
- Fatigue or loss
of energy
- Diminished
concentration
- Feelings of
guilt or worthlessness
- Thoughts of
suicide
To
diagnose major depression, either depressed mood or loss of pleasure in
activities must be one of the symptoms.