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This is a place to read and respond to life stories written by ordinary people who have learned that the act of writing stimulates the memory in surprising ways. Too many of us believe that we cannot write our stories because we cannot remember them very well. Yet the simple secret is that when we engage in the act of writing, our memories come alive. Please read, comment, follow, and subscribe. We look forward to hearing from you.
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I recently asked the members of the class if they could use a metaphor to represent their lives, what symbol would they choose. Read the stories they have shared, and submit one of your own. What metaphor would you choose to represent your life?
If you have a different story you'd like to share, we'd love to hear from you. Just check the guidelines at the bottom of this page before submitting.
Thanks!
I recently asked the members of the class if they could use a metaphor to represent their lives, what symbol would they choose. Read the stories they have shared, and submit one of your own. What metaphor would you choose to represent your life?
If you have a different story you'd like to share, we'd love to hear from you. Just check the guidelines at the bottom of this page before submitting.
Thanks!
Comments or Suggestions
Is there a particular theme you would like our writers to address? Would you like to read more love stories, more childhood memories, or more reflections on the meaning of life? Please send your suggestions to: bjmansell2@gmail.com.
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July
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- Someone Special, by Barbara Sparks
- Beach Boy Summer Days, by Annette Skarin
- All Shook Up, By Yolanda Adele
- Remember When?
- Our First Home, by Nora Szechy
- Freedom, by Charlotte Boquist
- My Most Memorable Fourth of July, by Annette Skarin
- July 4th at Church, by Nobuyo Avery
- Independence Day, by Noemi S. Rabina
- INDEPENDENCE DAY, By Gloria Hannigan
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About Me
- Bonnie
- Although I am new to blogging, I have been teaching memoir-writing classes for over ten years. I love reading, writing, and teaching, and I've been blessed to share my life with this amazing group of people.
When I was growing up, my mother, her two sisters & my grandparents would rent a small house on Balboa Island for a week every summer. We spent our days on the beach, spreading blankets and setting up chairs early in the morning to save our spot. We kids played in the sand and swam in the calm waters of the bay. In the evening we would walk around the island, usually on the walls that are there to keep back the high tide. We would end the evening with a Balboa Bar or frozen banana. At least once during our week we would take the ferry across to the peninsula (a nickel for kids & a dime for grown-ups). The ferry itself was an adventure for us: we’d race to the end seat so we could watch the water splash up against the side of the boat. Sometimes we’d get to ride the rides in the fun zone and play in the penny-arcades. I'll have to write a longer version as a post. Good memories.
ReplyDeleteHi Bonnie,
ReplyDeleteA fun story and great video to set the mood for summer. Brings back many happy memories of our own carefree days when our children were young and we were too!
I didn't get to the beach much in the summer as a child even though I lived in Lakewood. It was a big deal for us neighborhood kids to run through the sprinkler and have lunch outside. Going barefoot was something I did most everyday in the summer. The neighborhood kids played outside until the street lights came on playing Mother May I, Hide and Seek, Red Rover Red Rover or Kick the Can. We also set up a monopoly game in someones garage (that was before garages were so full) and played all summer stopping play when someone was called home for any reason.
ReplyDeleteOn our way to the farm each summer, we'd drive over a little bridge and look down in the trees below and see light from lanterns. This, we were told, is where the "Indians" lived. Just before we'd arrive at the farm we'd make our last stop at a little gas station and get " Blue Moon" ice cream and buy a bottle of soda and hand it to a live bear in a cage and watch him gulp it down. We never got tired of this and looked forward to it every trip.
ReplyDelete