The Crazee Chick's View of Life

We Meet Again I would address him with a cool, 'hello there, handsome' as if it our meeting had been mere coincidence.  It wasn't--I'd gone seeking for him and I wasn't ashamed to admit it. Across the room he stood, in that familiar blue jacket--only slightly tattered and torn--the mere thought of touching it caused my skin to flinch and flutter.  Like a moth to the flame I inched across the room ignoring the shouting inside my head : 'he's not the only fish in the sea--go find another!'  My eyes focussed intently on the one 'fish' for me and I pushed forward. We'd met years earlier: I was younger, less worldly, and oh so vanilla and he was anything but. He regaled me with tales of adventures (he liked to call them missions), travels to off-beat destinations, and tete at tetes with world leaders.  I was heady on his words and he would grin as he teased me with a little 'ubiquitous' here and an 'avant-garde' there. Was i

A writer (and truth teller) that I really admire, Janelle Hanchett (The Renegade Mother) , offered to run her writing class FO FREE y'all  on FB during this COVID crisis.  After jumping for joy over her generosity and kindness I signed up and the first lesson last week was about finding your voice.  If you've ever read my blog you'll quickly notice that this piece I wrote is for the first time ever, NOT in my voice, and yet oddly enough it is. My husband has some reservations about me sharing such a personal story so I hope it's not too much for you to handle. The assignment was to write about a time where we had to find inner strength. This is my story.