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Tag: Old Journals

The Storyteller

The Storyteller

I am a storyteller. I do not know when the gift was given to me, or when I even became aware that I had this gift. Does one sit around wondering when they learned to breathe? Stories seek me out, encapsulate me, and hold me hostage until I tell their whole existence, every minute detail. They haunt me, filling my dreams with their escapades as they romp through their lives demanding I notice and hear them, begging me not to…

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Autumn Weekend

Autumn Weekend

The little family didn’t notice the sun was setting, because they were too busy playing their board game, moving small trains around the map and howling with frustration when someone else’s train blocked them. While equally laughing with triumph when they were able to procure a slot for their own little trains. As it grew dark the game was packed away and the tired, happy people went inside for dinner. They closed up the little house snuggly against the autumn…

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Shopping Overseas

Shopping Overseas

Many things one does on a weekly basis is grocery shopping. It can be a simple task if you exclude the other shoppers around you. However, learning to find items in a new grocery store, in an entirely new country, can often be a small struggle, even more so when you are living in a country who spells yogurt with an h. My first shopping experience here was nothing short of harrowing, stressful, and breath taking, but not in the…

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Motherhood

Motherhood

There are times when you feel like you’re a reasonably good Mom, but there are also times when you wonder if you’ve done your best, given enough attention, attended to situations as well as you could have. Maybe it’s that we are so consumed in the present that we lose track of the past. We forget those glorious moments that were unplanned, the spontaneous moments of fun and freedom. We remember the time we dragged people to the parade despite…

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