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Entry Note To Self...the art of living
Journal Entry: 12/12/18 The Art Of Living How we choose what we do, and how we approach it…will determine whether the sum of our days ...
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The River Keeps Moving And like an ancient lava, the sun sprayed those muted golds and oranges across the slick surface of that slow-y...
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As I walked the beach this morning, in the distance I observed a memorial service to a fallen soldier. I have seen weddings, family reunio...
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ReplyDeleteAs a student, my teachers couldn't understand me. Many times I heard some of them whisper to one another how difficult I was. You see I played hooky, you know skipping class, go missing for a while. However anyone could find me easily...my parents would ask the principal "have you checked the library?" There I was most of my time, buried in books with my assignments or homework laid out like a schematic. Research was important, I figured I don't have time waiting for the bits and pieces, which took forever to come, it drove me crazy! I was very impatient and restless, hence I suffered from bullies. The classroom is a great place, in those days it lacked originality, spontaneity and enthusiasm; in fact it was down right boring. My history teacher was great, she possessed a sense of adventure, and excitement capturing our imagination.
ReplyDeleteAs the song goes, "we traveled with our Saturday smiles" never leaving the classroom she took us back in time, now that's history. CatDG