I don't celebrate Valentine's Day. It's silly to me. Why do I need to tell my significant other, family, and friends that I love them one day of the year just because the calendar tells me so? Why can't I tell them every single day of the year if the meaning is there? I feel, if your significant other, family, and friends truly loved you, they'd show, say, and express it all the time - not try to make it up to you one day of the year when Hallmark, Hershey's, and flower shops make their most money.
The air outside is sweet, breezy and sends my toes curling. Only two seasons do this for me, and those are Spring and Fall. I always think back to when I was 7 and 8 years old.
As some of you may already know, I was a foster child up until I was adopted at age 13. When I was 7 and 8 years old I lived with a family, out in Lynnfield, that owned and operated a small goat farm. They had goats, chickens, ducks, geese and if I remember correctly, they had a horse. They also had two dogs, Sammy and Moose. Sammy was Moose's mom. They were springer spaniels. Sammy was black and white (like an Oreo cookie) and Moose was brown and white (like mousse and whipped cream).
So I was asked to work today (Saturday) because I work for a company that deals with taxation and immigration, and a big tax day is fast approaching (if you haven’t filed already, your tax return is due Monday, April 18th or April 19th if you’re in MA).
After I wrote about 2000 words for chapter 8 last night, I went through some of the papers on my desk from back when I was in high school. I admit a lot of the pieces I found weren't workable (some were so terrible I crumpled them into balls and played wastepaper basketball), but there were some short stories that I'm kind of amazed I wrote. Seeing the roughs made me cringe, but reading the finals really showed how much I improved as a writer. I miss those days; I had so many ideas and so much time to write. Ok - I'm done with my nostalgic moment :)