I also meant to say, it's unheard of these days to let three year old do things like that. I was allowed to at 5. These days, where we live, kids seem to be accompanied until they're about 14
Oh Thank You, Jeanne. I am so touched by that. To be associated with such a tender and subtle piece of Writing, Art and Writing that comes from your Life & Heart is something I dearly treasure.
As for touching and being touched by Creativity and committment, I can honestly share that those impulses, those radical yet completely natural acts, are what you and I share, Our Link, and what we ALL share with each other as we navigate this Beautiful kooky Life in our quest to be Free.
Your Writing. Your Art. Our Writing & Art ALL! is a reminder that
Ha, the "water cycle!" Nothing like mentioning water when you have to go! What torture! At least you had an understanding teacher. I had mean Mrs. Wheeler, the lunch lady, who wouldn't dismiss me from the lunch table when I asked her if I could take a trip to the bathroom. Instead, she ordered me to finish my lunch. She was known for yelling at everyone constantly or blowing the whistle she always wore around her neck. (Does anyone even own a whistle anymore, besides referees?) I waited until she and everyone else had left the area--before I left a puddle on the gym floor! Then I headed to the principal's office and told on Mrs. Wheeler and then asked the secretary to call my mom to bring some fresh underwear. I'm sure none of my classmates was the wiser, but maybe Mrs. Wheeler finally got the message. I wasn't as lucky in high school, when coming home from band camp, the bus driver was determined not to make any pit stops as he drove halfway across the state of Michigan. I hope he had to clean that mess up himself.
Poignant and funny is the best combination. Wonderful piece! ❤️
Wonderfilled small and not so small.
I’m learning Substack too— and learning from you❣️
Brilliant: thought-provoking and funny too. Loved the daffodils. Here's a weird thing. I was subscribed, but Substack thought I wasn't.
That’s strange I hope Substack fixes that. Thank you for your kind comments. I appreciate you reading.
I also meant to say, it's unheard of these days to let three year old do things like that. I was allowed to at 5. These days, where we live, kids seem to be accompanied until they're about 14
Same here. Kids aren’t allowed much unsupervised time. I was a very big three year old. Fall birthday so in the summer was nearly four
I've had this sort of thing before. The strange thing is that I received that through email -- but none of the others.
i loved this very muc
Oh Thank You, Jeanne. I am so touched by that. To be associated with such a tender and subtle piece of Writing, Art and Writing that comes from your Life & Heart is something I dearly treasure.
As for touching and being touched by Creativity and committment, I can honestly share that those impulses, those radical yet completely natural acts, are what you and I share, Our Link, and what we ALL share with each other as we navigate this Beautiful kooky Life in our quest to be Free.
Your Writing. Your Art. Our Writing & Art ALL! is a reminder that
We already are.
I will always have time for your stories, Jeanne. Especially if I’ve heard it before. Loved this! ❤️
Truly beautiful
Ha, the "water cycle!" Nothing like mentioning water when you have to go! What torture! At least you had an understanding teacher. I had mean Mrs. Wheeler, the lunch lady, who wouldn't dismiss me from the lunch table when I asked her if I could take a trip to the bathroom. Instead, she ordered me to finish my lunch. She was known for yelling at everyone constantly or blowing the whistle she always wore around her neck. (Does anyone even own a whistle anymore, besides referees?) I waited until she and everyone else had left the area--before I left a puddle on the gym floor! Then I headed to the principal's office and told on Mrs. Wheeler and then asked the secretary to call my mom to bring some fresh underwear. I'm sure none of my classmates was the wiser, but maybe Mrs. Wheeler finally got the message. I wasn't as lucky in high school, when coming home from band camp, the bus driver was determined not to make any pit stops as he drove halfway across the state of Michigan. I hope he had to clean that mess up himself.
I enjoyed your stories very much, Jeanne!
Thank you Jill!
Wow! Very mean. I don’t think I ever had a tyrant teacher. Probably lucky.