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 University of Mississippi's Writers' Page


Resources I Love


Create Your Writer's Life,
by Cynthia Morris


Impulses Newsletter

On My Nightstand

Write It Down,
Make It Happen
by Henriette Anne Klauser

Flannery,
by Brad Gooch

Evolution of God,
by Robert Wright

House Rules
by Jodi Picoult

Ending Your Day Right,
by Joyce Meyer

And my monthly copy of
Down East Magazine


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Products of contemplation from an enthusiastic freelance writer who just can't pin herself down. Some technical, some not so much. Some creative, some shockingly unimaginative. Some professional and productive and some, frankly, unprofessional and unproductive. And that's probably where the fun starts.
Monday
08Mar2010

You've Come A Long Way, Sandra Heath

I received my adoption records in the mail Saturday. I knew there were 82 pages, because I had to pay the copying costs, but I imagined lots of legal crap and little substance. Instead, over half is ridiculously personal information about my birth mother and my parents.

My father would just die if he ever found out I was reading things about him in any kind of interview, much less a series of public welfare ones during an adoption process. That alone is worth the $200 I paid for this kind of scoop!!

It all starts in 1959 when, deciding against a private adoption agency for privacy reasons (that worked well for 46 years), they put their names on the Memphis, Tennessee, public welfare department’s list to adopt. They ended up with my brother, Pat, in 1960. They had no idea, poor things. It’s a good thing they got me next, because my motto was then and remains, “You’ll barely know I’m here”. I’m referred to as a “good, sweet baby” on at least 35 pages. My parents are referred to as “attractive” on just as many. That would make them both as happy to know as the good, sweet part about me made me.

A few things were news to me. For example, my mother told me that she was the one who couldn’t have children, but according to these pages, she wasn’t the one lacking in reproductive abilities. And, I was told that everything was lickety-split, like my parents were practically there as I popped into the world. Not exactly the case, because, apparently, I had a little stint at a Coston Boarding Home and was known as Sandra Heath (legally until 1965!).

Click to read more ...

Monday
01Mar2010

Judith Van Meter has a Class D Felony and Steve Hall is Wasatch Academy’s Choice for their Faculty Spotlight

In August 2007, a 63-year-old school bus driver in a suburb of Indianapolis left a 5-year-old child on the bus. The little girl slept for five hours before walking into school. She never expressed any fear and was fine. The driver was charged with Neglect of a Dependent, which is a Class D Felony. She was fired. Her license was revoked ending her long career. She was ordered to serve 100 days in jail (she was able to serve house arrest because she was the sole caretaker of her ailing parents) and was put on probation for an additional 445 days. She was also ordered to undergo a mental health evaluation and has to pay all fines and court costs.

In February 2005, an English teacher at Darlington School, a private school in Rome, Georgia, led an outdoor excursion during which he changed the course to one that required the kids to be in the ocean in kayaks and canoes. The only communication device was his personal cell phone, the water temperature was 58 degrees, numerous severe weather warnings had been issued, and he got not one parent’s permission. His decision killed two boys, Clay McKemie and Sean Wilkinson. Darlington’s attorneys showed up at the Florida church where families were awaiting word on the boys. Prosecutors decided not to prosecute.....

Click to read more ...

Thursday
25Feb2010

Five Years Like Yesterday

How can it be that it was five years ago when I first came across Clay McKemie and Sean Wilkinson’s beautiful and happy school picture faces on CNN? I remember where I was so vividly. I see my office and my desk, I see the headlines, and I see the dozens of online reports in my head. School trip gone horribly wrong. Missing boys. Florida ocean. Coast Guard. Clay McKemie

Sean Wilkinson

People still ask me why I felt so haunted by their story. I tell them about my connection to Rome, Georgia, having lived there for five years in the mid-nineties, but more than that, I tell them about my son who was also 15 at the time. I saw his face in theirs. Then, of course, there was the unmitigated gall of Steve Hall, the trip leader who was in the local paper two days after the boys were found dead running around the field and telling reporters at a Darlington soccer game how much fun he was having coaching the team. (Of course, by this time, anyone involved had been told to not discuss anything with anyone by Darlington lawyers. And not talk, they did. As a result, Hall went unpunished for what was so blatantly criminal negligence.)

It worried me that no parent could easily get information about Hall before sending their child on a trip he was leading. So, I posted what I knew and how I felt here.

I get traffic hits all the time from people googling Clay and Sean. I am so happy that they are remembered by people all over the country (and world, actually). I also get a slew of hits from searches about Darlington School, Wasatch Academy and Steve Hall, and each time, I hope it’s a mother investigating and changing her mind.

And I admit that I get a little hitch in my giddy-up when Steve or Chris Hall stop by to check on me. It means that they are thinking of that night, that weekend, that week. Not in the way people with consciences would, of course, but it’s something, and I’ll take it.

Every time my son has a typical life milestone, I think of Clay and Sean. And I think about their mothers and sisters and brothers, who are strong and funny and full of life and love and faith. And who will grieve forever. And I thank God for the Internet because, through all of this, I got to know them just a little.

Wednesday
10Feb2010

Maxine Is Too Nice This Time

 

Wednesday
03Feb2010

Middle Age is Being Mean to Me Again

My son stayed with me for a few days in December and I asked him to notice how hot it got upstairs at night. I mean, boiling hot. Not only did he not notice it he said that he got a little chilly. After several discussions, he asked me if this could be some symptom of menopause. I’m here to tell you that the shock of that never occurring to me in the first place was something, but to have it brought up by your fully-grown son, was quite another.

After some pains reminiscent of childbirth, I ordered a $28 Internal Cleanse program from Amazon. Two days after it arrived in the mail, I got the stomach flu. Now, I’m on the BRAT system. Bananas, rice, applesauce, toast. My stomach’s quieted down a lot, so we’re going to stick with this for a while. Start thinking like nursing home cafeteria menu makers.

I can’t keep enough lotion and hair conditioner in the house. I’m like the Sahara. There’s just never enough moisture.

Which brings me to peeing in cups. I recently had to do this and couldn’t perform. Come to my house in the middle of the night and we’ll have no issues, but during the day, that much productivity ain’t happenin’. Whose cruel joke was it to move the minimum requirement line anyway?

Click to read more ...

Thursday
07Jan2010

My Lil' Winter Wonderland

And it's still snowing, though I do see a break in the clouds. Stayed home today to enjoy it and keep my new car safe. We're still in that getting-to-know-you phase, and I'd hate to scare it off with too much responsibility.

 

Thursday
17Dec2009

For Your Eyes Only

"Nobody will stop you from creating. Do it tonight. Do it tomorrow. That is the way to make your soul grow - whether there is a market for it or not! The kick of creation is the act of creating, not anything that happens afterward. I would tell all of you watching this screen: Before you go to bed, write a four line poem. Make it as good as you can. Don't show it to anybody. Put it where nobody will find it. And you will discover that you have your reward."   Kurt Vonnegut
Ode to 2009
Another year is coming to a close and entirely too fast.
What did I learn? Did I do enough nice things? Am I closer this year than I was the last? 
My biggest lessons: letting go with dignity, intention and manifestation, a new definition for productivity, and methods to relax and trust.
My biggest thanks: new friends, good ol’ Austin, finances, opportunities, and Universal connections that have helped me with my biggest challenge to date, which was just to adjust.
OR
Ode to Jimmy John’s Totally Tuna Sandwich
Oh, you are so yummy.
In my tummy.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I'd like to eat three of you, but that is not something I should do.

Rewarded.