"Mrs. Simpson, What Does It Mean to Be In-love?"

A couple of days ago I volunteered to take 18 of the sweetest first graders to lunch for teacher appreciation day. All of the teachers got to partake in a feast at an "undisclosed" location in the building. I love volunteer days because I always get lots of hugs and I am a hugger, so my tank is FULL when I leave school! You know how it is. You walk into school and you see the twinkle in all of their eyes. The little girls hug you, compliment you on the food you served at the last birthday party and tell you how lovely your home is, while the little boys quickly scan the room to see if their teacher has exited the building.

We were finally off to lunch. Everyone was quiet, walking in a straight line and giggling. After all, it is springtime. The bees are starting to buzz and the birds are singing... ahhhh!

We were all seated at the cafeteria table and I was counting heads to make sure I had all of them. Tap. Tap. "Mrs. Simpson." "Yes sweetie," I responded. "Well Mrs. Simpson, I have a question for you." Her precious little eyes rocked back and forth while she quizzically looked up at the ceiling with one fingertip patting her cute little nose. "O.K." I cautiously responded. "What does it mean to be in love?" She asked. My heart stopped beating. "Mrs. Simpson?"

I quickly took a visual scan of my end of the table to see who all was listening. ALL EYES WERE ON ME! I have always wanted the authority to say, "One, two, three...eyes on me." Not as cool as I thought.

So, I do what any well prepared parent would do. I resort to my sales training! When you don't know the answer, you answer with a question. Right? In this case, I desperately needed to buy myself some time :). "What do you think it in means to be in love?" I asked. "I don't know that's why I asked you," she politely but firmly replied. No one giggles. They are ALL waiting for THE answer. Then I get this sweet hand on my arm as this precious one tries to console me. "You see Mrs. Simpson, x kissed y on the playground yesterday. And, x says that she is "in-love" with y." SILENCE. Still waiting for THE answer. She continues.... "The problem is that there are several girls in love with y!" At this point, I wished I was in Star Trek and could be "beamed" to the undisclosed location!

Fortunately, my daughter had brought the whole "x and y" drama to my attention the night before and today, she was sitting mid-way down the table. Half the girls in the class are smitten by y. Poor y, he is so precious and honestly does not have a clue what is going on. And fortunately for y, he was sitting at the other end of the table!

My first kiss (a tiny, nanosecond of a kiss on the lips) was the summer after 7Th grade. I remember the anxiety building up to it, my palms were sweaty, and knots were building in my stomach! What are they doing kissing in the first grade?! More importantly, I ask, why are they so worried about falling in love in the 1st grade?

"Being in love takes grown-up responsibility." I replied. "Do you know how old I was when I fell in love?" "HOW OLD?" They all chimed. "I was 27." "27!?!?" "It was when I met Mr. Mark." They all smiled. I then asked, "How old are you?" "SEVEN!" They all chimed. "So how many years before you need to start worrying about falling in love?" They were all working on the dot math to figure out the answer (hee....hee...hee....). "Twenty!" They shouted. They were so proud of themselves for figuring out the math. I was relieved that everyone was distracted.

Tap.Tap. "Mrs. Simpson. What about the kissing?" Oh jeez. "How many of you have colds right now?" I asked. Several boys raised their hand and they all began, "My nose is running." "My throat hurts." "I am coughing." All the girls including myself replied, "Ewe!" "So, like I said, being in-love takes responsibility AND you can get a cold! Doesn't it sound like more fun to just be friends and have fun playing on the playground?" "YES!"

Tap. Tap. "Mrs. Simpson, when you have some time, I have a lot more questions to ask."

By the grace of God, the mommy with me that day pointed at her watch and shouted (it is loud in our cafeteria), "It is time to go!"

In all seriousness, I spoke with the teacher later and she is going to "address" kissing with the whole class. I am so grateful for her and her teaching knowledge and experience. And later that night, Mark and I were able to talk with Sarah about how each little person in her class is made in a unique, beautiful and special way. It was our first "real" discussion about healthy boundaries and how to respect ourselves and others when it comes to the preciousness of our bodies and why God made them. And, honestly, I can not wait for the next opportunity to have a similar conversation.

Precious little x's and y's, as God's word says in 1 John 3:16, "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us."

And as written from a precious little seven year old I know:

I Love Jeses.
I Love My Mom.
I Love My Dad.
I Love My little sistr.
I Love My Dog Belle.
I Love God.
I Love evryone.

Thank you Lord for the purity and preciousness our little ones possess.

ASimpson

Is this the One?

I haven’t posted a blog in a LONG time (over 1 month!). Where has the time gone? I have been entrenched, cranking out a new picture book manuscript; and, it is my first Christian one. YEAH! I have it memorized and even my girls do. I love to hear them chant their favorite lines while walking around the house or during play. I walk around, head held high, pretending that they are reading it for REAL. Time flies by for me when I am writing a new manuscript. There are not enough hours in the day to write when I am in the groove! This time I am promising myself that I will not edit it to death! I have received some wonderful feedback recently from two of my closest friends, "Angela, I think this is the one! YOU need to leave it the way it is." These friends know me very well because this is totally going against every fiber of my being! I met with an agent after writing my first manuscript and she gave me the same advice and I didn't listen. I worked feavorishly for one month to recreate the entire thing! Why is it so hard to take trusted advice and move forward with it? Why am I so nervous? Maybe because now I am exploring the not so fun part of writing (once again) - the part that requires researching editors. The part that will see rejection eye to eye. It feels like I am getting ready to travel on a camel across the Mohave Desert with 100 mile an hour gail force winds in my eyes. And my eyes are already bug-eyed from all of the coffee that I am drinking to stay awake until 3 in the morning! Each step forward is painful, but necessary. Which editor will possibly look at my work? Which editor will even look at an unpublished author? Which editor will even look at a PB manuscript these days? The prayers begin...I have to admit that I am somewhat of a princess too. I just want to write, be a mom, play with my girls, and read my picture books to a bunch of excited, runny nose, silly little kids. If only I could hire someone to edit all of my work, AND research editors for me, AND read all of the latest market scoop, AND figure out this confusing blog stuff, AND bring me my coffee and chocolate. A girl can dream, can't she?

"I Will Sign for The Lord"

Try to imagine for a moment that you are hearing impaired. Please cover your ears. Can you hear anything? Maybe you can hear your breaths or possibly your heartbeat? Walk around for minute, ears still covered tight. Instead of straining to hear, relax and take a deep breath. Try to feel each footstep that you take. Can you feel the reverberation of your dog’s footsteps on the hardwood floor, a door slamming shut, or the furnace turning on?

Mark and I entered church this past Sunday fully rested and ready to go. The girls were visiting with their grandparents and we were so excited to be together, kid-free. Wahoo! Life was grand! Simpson’s dictionary defines the word date as ANYWHERE that parents go together, for ANY length of time, WITHOUT kids. We attended a wonderful fellowship class that morning with parents from the girls’ school and then we were off with the masses, heading down a massive hallway towards the large sanctuary for worship.

I am at the church a lot during the week, taking the girls to school, picking them up, at prayer group or bible study, but not with this many people. With each step I took, I nervously prayed. For us introverts, large churches offer excellent opportunities to become connected, but equally as many opportunities to feel lost in the numbers. The old, but yet still familiar feeling of belonging to a church of 13,000+ in Colorado came back to me all too fast. I took a deep breath and stepped in through the doorway with as much strength and determination as I could muster. Over and over, I chanted to myself, “It is O.K., I am in church. It is O.K., I am in church.”

Upon entering the sanctuary, I cautiously looked around and as I began to take in all of the individual groups of people that were clustering together, it was with great surprise that I noticed everyone entered exchanging familiar handshakes, hugs and kisses. One man was showing off his new granddaughter. And let me tell you, she is a beauty! Everyone seemed so genuine. The reuniting smiles and hugs were igniting. My heart was warming up. The worship team (4 not 40) stood up and the chorus of music beautifully cascaded over the stage.

Then one group of the congregation, sitting to my left, grabbed me by the heartstrings. They were different. Their joy was contagious. You’ve heard the saying, “that person wears their heart on their sleeve.” Well, no doubt, this entire group of individuals did. They were wearing love and joy like no other. Wow! I want what they have, I thought. I wonder what they had for breakfast was my next thought. Better yet, what bible study are they doing? I was ready to stealthily fly over to their section of the sanctuary and hang out behind their pew just to find out the secret to their joy. With hands softly and lovingly placed on the next brother’s/sister’s shoulder, their smiles and their eye expressions clearly said to one another, “I love you and I am glad to be in the house of the Lord with you today.” Dr. Gary Chapman mentioned a few announcements and the music continued. I was captured!

The praise group was in full force now and as I looked around the sanctuary this time, I noticed the reservation that the majority of us (I) tend to have. You know, cautiously swaying, reluctant to sing that we may be off key, looking out of the corner of your eye to see what everyone else is doing. What would others think if I looked somewhat excited to be in church this morning? What if I sing off key? My silly thought was, Well, I can’t sing off key. We are the new people! Lousy excuse, huh?

As my eyes veered back toward my favorite group of folks, I noticed even more their expressions of love and grace. Arms rose with palms facing upward towards heaven. Smiles became larger, and eyes were lifted upwards. It was one of the most beautiful things that I have ever witnessed. Then, as the lyrics appeared on the screen above, their expressions of faith were even more beautiful as this group of the congregation began to sign each word they sang. As they signed, each word of the music became alive and real to me. I found myself simply quiet, listening, and watching in awe.

My personal challenge in the coming weeks is to learn how to feel compassion for others in my life and how to truly show Christ’s love through my actions. I don’t know about you, but I am quick to speak. Honestly, I have good intentions most of the time; but, I still plant that left foot firmly where it doesn’t belong in my effort to speak first, or to be heard. My late grandfather was an amazing man. When you walked into his home, he greeted you with one hand on your shoulder and the other hand locked in yours. He embraced you until he got a good look into your eyes. There was no doubt that you would be remembered always by him. His look was intentional as if to say, “I now know you and I will pray for you.” In the future, when I want to tell my husband and children how much I care for them, maybe I reach out and touch their shoulder or hand first, or I just simply smile and listen. What if next Sunday at church I don't worry so much about how my voice sounds, but belt it out with joy? What if next Sunday I try lifting my palms towards heaven acknowledging my savior?

"To Sit and Laugh Together, this is the Best Medicine of All"

I thought it was a visit to the urgent care to pacify my budding, 7-year old, veterinarian’s curiosity of broken bones and casts. The exponential acceleration of whining and crying over the past 19 hours had driven me to a near nervous breakdown.

You see, Sarah was invited to a little boy’s birthday party from her class, so Sarah only thought it was appropriate that her daddy escort her to the party. So sweet! Like my cute, bubbly (God love him), accident prone husband, it didn't take long for something to happen. While sliding down the 2-story slide, the force of gravity pulled our little one into a collision with her dad’s butt. Oh, yes! Mark’s butt was planted on top of her little wrist the final ¾ the way down the slide! I immediately thought the worse and asked a bazillion questions over the phone as I was in the hustle and bustle of holiday shopping with my 4-year old in tow.

Now, you have to know that growing up, I had a desire to be a veterinarian. I always captured my specimens on the family farm (tadpoles, frogs, crickets, worms, squirrels, and bumble bees (yes, I had part of a bumble bee nest from my cousins backyard)). I studied, dissected, and watched them all grow with eager anticipation of how to take them apart and then, put them back together again! Yikes! So….. I start doing my diagnosis…poor Mark, POOR SARAH!

A: “Your butt was on top of her wrist?!?!” “How long?”

M: “I don’t know.”

A: “Did anyone ice her wrist?”

M: “Yes.”

A: “How long did she cry?”

M: “I don’t know.”

A: “HOW LONG DID SHE CRY?”

M: “It was for a while. O.K., it was longer than usual.”

A: “Did you hear a pop or unusual sound?”

M: “I don’t know.”

A: “What time did it happen?”

M: “I don’t know.”

A: “Was it right after you got there?”

M: “Well, I guess so.”

A: “Did any of the doctors/nurses (our friends) look at it?”

M: “NO. The staff at the bouncy place did.”

A: “Great!”

A: “Is it swollen?”

M: “Yes.”

A: “Is it bruised?”

M: “Yes.”

A: “What are you doing right now?!?!”

M: “We are sitting at Wendy’s enjoying some daddy-daughter time. I thought this is what she needed the most. We are playing checkers. She’s just a little tired.”

A: Hmmmm…..

With burn marks on the heels of Claire’s shoes and a red zipper mark around her neck, Claire hoarsely exclaimed, “Mommy, can we please slow down?” “No!” I snapped. “We need to get home! Sarah has had an accident.” All I could think about was how one of Sarah’s friends from Colorado fractured her wrist – not a lot of symptoms, but a fracture, no less.

Mark and Sarah were home when we arrived. Sarah was lying on the sofa with an ice pack on her wrist and she was whining and crying, “It hurts.” “Mommy, my wrist is burning and I can’t get comfortable.” I even took the liberty of calling our friend from Colorado (mind you I haven’t talked to her in six months and I am rattling off like a lunatic – I did take time to say, “Hi,” I think).

So, after a thorough medical diagnosis, I determined that it was a hairline fracture at best, but no question, it was a fracture. Mark suggested we call the pediatrician’s office and talk to the nurse. Honestly, I was so tired from my frenzy that I was ready to give her codeine left over from the tonsillectomy one year ago so we could all get some rest. We told Sarah that we would go to urgent care the next morning if it was still hurting. Well, the triage nurse all but suggested the same thing, pretending that she did not hear our mention of codeine. Nurse’s directions: Give our daughter 2.5 tsps of Motrin (1/2 tsp more than recommended at her age) and have her rest. If she is still in pain tomorrow, take her to the urgent care. We gave her the 2.5 tsps of Motrin. Whew! Glad that’s over. Now, we wait. Surely the pain will stop – right?

Well, not so much! 30 minutes later Sarah was still complaining and digging for all the attention she could muster out of her exhausted dad and mentally traumatized mother.

An hour went by and the whining was driving our entire family bonkers! Bella, our dog, was even whining. Claire, our 4-year old, chimed in too! "Do we have brandy and eggnog?" I asked. "How about that codeine?" suggested Mark. We gave her the Motrin one hour ago? Mark and I smiled at each other. Mark was down the stairs and back in a flash with 4 ml of codeine (1/2 the dose recommended, 1 year ago). Our theory – if we are going to drug our child, give ½ the recommended dose to be cautious. Mark and I agreed, if this doesn’t work (in 15 minutes), will take Sarah to the ER. Do I hear snoring? YES! She’s down for the night! Eggnog. Codeine. Sports for Mark. Ahhh….a good night’s sleep.

Bright and early the next morning, my usual cheery eyed 7 year old enters the bedroom whining. “Mommy, is it time to go to the ER?” “Are you sure it hurts?” I asked. “Yes. Remember, you promised we would go to the doctor this morning if I wasn’t feeling better.” Oh yeah. I did.

We got dressed and off we went to the urgent care, and I had not had my morning coffee and my anxieties started to flare up … What if it is a fracture. OK….well, no big deal. X-ray, cast, and we are done. H1N1…let’s turn the car around. Who cares about the fracture? I’ll just give her codeine all day and take her to the pediatrician tomorrow. No, I need to take her. More importantly, WE ARE OUT OF EGGNOG! So, I started explaining H1N1 to Sarah and that we would need to wear masks when we got into the clinic. “Wear a mask?” she asked. “Mommy, will it cover my nose?” “Will I be able to breathe?” “Can we talk to each other?” O.K., I thought. I didn’t think the mask was a big deal? Is that wrist still hurting? I wondered.

We checked in and Sarah continued to whine and act totally miserable while we were waiting. “How long mommy?”

We finally got called back (1 hour later)! The doctor checked Sarah’s arm. He poked and wriggled the wrist. I squirmed and waited for her to yell out in pain. Nothing! Sarah didn't even flinch! “Sarah,” I said. “Honey, it is O.K. to tell the doctor if you are in pain.” No words were mumbled. Nothing. Hmmm…..The doctor quickly assured me that she would/should say something. Not sure, he ordered an x-ray. After all, the hurt wrist was almost two times the size of the other wrist.

What's another hour? No big deal.

So, we waited.

You see, the hour that we waited to go into x-ray went a little something like this (yes, this story is just beginning)….I was reading a home catalog (since we are in a new area, I figured that I could get some house shopping done while we were waiting). Sarah was lying on the bed whining and crying (what’s new? I was able to block it out at this point). “What do you think the cast will look like?” Sarah asked. “Mommy, I am bored.” Honestly, I was having a hard time sitting still because I had already diagnosed all of the patients (3 of them) in the waiting room and I knew all of their symptoms and was worried about all of them! So, Sarah and I desperately needed something to do! Sarah and I looked around…. The small, boxy, beige rooms are enough to send any patient into a panic attack upon arrival! Top that off with the 13 year old next door screaming to the top of her lungs while her in-grown toe nail was being removed. Obama, while you are spending, can you hire an interior decorator for all of our hospitals and clinics? What’s a few more million dollars!

Purple gloves! Hallelujah! I heard the chorus of angels above….little did I know. We took a purple glove. I blew it up, sealed the bottom, pulled a pen out of my purse and made a silly face on it! We batted it around the room and the fun began! OK, I have to admit, we were having a blast! The rule: Harriett (the balloon) could not touch the floor! I was sliding from one corner of the room to the other, spinning in circles on the round stool while Sarah was perched on the edge of the bed, laughing hysterically. “Mommy, get it!” “Don’t let Harrietta touch the floor!” “Go mommy!”

Then, time froze. I got a glimpse of my daughter’s face that surprised and shocked me. Where had the last six months gone? When had I last sat and played with her like this? She was beautiful, filled with laughter and confidence. She recently turned 7 on December 3 and WOW!, She looked like a young girl. The way she sat properly on the bed, one leg crossed over the other. The way she tossed her long hair back with her left hand. I was both saddened and overwhelmed with the moment. Then, I heard, “Mommy? Mah-om-mee!” “Yes, honey.” “Mommy, it is so nice to be alone with you, playing. Just the two of us.” I was heart struck.

We arrived in Winston-Salem so fast. I mean really fast. Like most of you have experienced, life never skipped a beat. We arrived one week before school started (I had one week prior to find a school and a home for us to rent). I had just recently unpacked in Clayton, NC. After camping out for one week in an empty house in Winston-Salem, NC, our furniture arrived. School started and I started into Bible study and prayer group right away. Then, it was my mission to get Claire settled into her first year of school, at a new school, in a grade higher than we should have placed her (that’s a story for another time), hoping that our crash-course in potty training on I70 and I40 would hold up! Also, Sarah, our budding equestrian, needed to keep warmed-up on a horse and we didn’t want her to miss too many riding lessons. So, we found a great riding facility and lessons started the next week. Life was swirling around me so fast that I could not catch a breath or take it all in.

We got called back to x-ray. My little princess plopped her wrist onto the x-ray table with no problem! Ouch! I grimaced. She smiled. Then, I reviewed the x-rays. They looked clean to me! I could not see a fracture – NO FRACTURE! Are you kidding me?! I just paid $30 for nothing. "We don’t even get a cast?" I asked.

On the way out of the doctor’s office, Sarah asked, “Mommy, can we stop at Starbucks? I don’t want to drive through, I want to go inside and sit down with you.”

We pulled into Starbucks and I ordered my usual. A large, chai latte. Sarah got her usual. A vanilla milk and a low-fat, cinnamon swirl coffee cake. We sat down, talked, giggled and enjoyed the Christmas decorations that adorn the store. “Mommy, this is the best coffee cake that I have ever tasted. The cinnamon is excellent! Would you like to share it with me?”

As you can probably imagine, 18 hours prior I was asking God, “Why today?” “I don’t want Sarah to have a broken wrist.” “I am exhausted and I honestly don’t have time for this.” “Please make this all go away and heal her body overnight.” In retrospect, I envision God calmly saying, “Oh, sweetheart, if you only knew.”

It took a small, beige, boring clinical environment to make me and time stand still. All I could focus on was the big, blue eyes, and the beautiful smile of my daughter. Her laugh bounced off the walls of that tiny room and through out the entire clinic, and through my heart. Sarah was healthy and the trip to the clinic was just what the doctor ordered – the ultimate doctor – for me. Wow! This makes my heart skip a beat just thinking about it.

As my 95 year-old granny always says, “to just sit and laugh together, this is the best medicine of all.” My husband is a gem. He is amazing. Like granny, he knew all along the answer to the problem - play checkers over dinner at Wendy’s. I thought the time involved taking the girls to school each morning, running to the grocery store together, doing homework every night together, or being at riding lessons for two hours each Thursday was quality time. They are growing up so fast and the accomplishments of my seven year old blow me away. I think it is so easy these days to believe that quality time with our children has to be centered on a planned activity. As we drove home from Starbucks, I was in slow mode and I had a new definition of quality time.

Even though my to do lists were piling up at home, we all snuggled up together in the den, Sarah snuggled in her daddy’s arms and Claire snuggled in mine and we had a Harry Potter movie marathon with tickle wars during the commercials.

It was a beautiful day for all of us.

"What do You Mean, Only 1200 characters!!!!"

O.K., about me.

My local roots are from the south central tobacco country and farm lands of Randolph, Virginia and the big city of Danville, Virginia. These roots technically belong to my parents, but since we spent practically every weekend visiting these areas into my young adult life, they will always be home to me. Besides, my sister and I were born and raised just 1-2 hours north of the "big" city. I am one of 400+ family members and growing! 200+ which I know (have had conversation with :)) and hear about on a regular basis. This is a total from both sides of the family (mom and dad’s). The largest number of relatives is related to granny (my dad’s mom). Granny is 95 years young and is one of 14 siblings. When we get together for a family reunion, thanksgiving, and Christmas celebration, there are 4 generations present! Laughter (lots of laughter!), food (lots of homemade, good food!), and enjoyable conversation are always present.

The trips to church with my grandparents (we still sit in the same pew that we did as kids) from a very young age to the present; the long, deep, faith-filled conversations with my dad’s parents (especially my papa) while walking around the family farm; the anticipation of catching the “largest catfish in the county,” with my papa even when he was very sick and in his late ‘80s (he always took my fish off the hook for me and now, I get to do it for my girls!); and conversations with my grandfather, William, about politics while driving to church, have truly shaped who I am today - the culmination of these wonderful experiences and joyful memories. I am truly blessed to have shared these experiences with both grandfathers well into my late twenties and now that my family has moved back to the east coast, I get to share similar conversations with both of my grandmothers over coffee and/or reading a good book. Nothing compares to being surrounded by family and friends. The laughter. The joy.

And, even though I enjoy a good, intellectually stimulating conversation about politics and religion, (trust me, in a family as large as ours, these conversations are frequently visited) my favorites are those that take place everyday between my close family and friends. As long as I can connect with those around me, including the grocery clerk at the local grocery store, I have had a good day. My husband likes to say, “Honey, you do not know a stranger.” I believe that it is true for almost all of my family members.

Each day I get to support the four loves of my life (our dogie, Bella, is one of them!). And let me tell you, it is always exciting and ever-changing in our home. My husband is a committed husband (especially noted for enduring our oldest daughter’s seven year birthday party, complete with 10 screaming girls!). He has several passions: his faith, golf, and ALL sports, and now hunting! He is an amazing dad and a very patient husband (as you will see). My girls are beautiful, confident and full of life. It is a joy to be around them and their friends. And even though our recent move has shaken up their lives quite a bit, they are adjusting well. We live in a different place geographically and the girls and I have shed many tears from missing our familiar surroundings and friends, however, the constant denominator of family, faith and church have truly made this transition amazing. I am proud of both of them.

Did I mention that I love to write? I have been writing different types of genres, from baby board and picture books, to poetry, to a guide on selling by faith. Yes, I know I dropped out of Creative Writing my senior year of college! My best friend from college, Ann, who is an amazing writer, tried to encourage me to stay in the class and even talked to the professor for me :). You can only imagine! Trust me, if you asked me 10 years ago if I saw myself as a writer, I would boldly and confidently say, “NO!” This is a surprise to me as well! I am still growing and maturing a lot in this area of my life and in many others too! However, the more I write, the more I am led towards writing about faith and humor. These are two of the most important things that I rely on daily for my sanity. One more important note: ADD and OCD run in our family and currently, I am not medicated! So, if I jump around while writing, that’s my ADD. I hope to get in a few entries a week, but if I am delayed, that is my OCD. I think some of my best writing has been at 2 am in the morning when I wake up and write a story at one sitting. Crazy! But, then I pick and pick it to death (OCD). All good, seasoned, and published writers that I have met, suggest setting your work aside MANY times and come back to it MANY times; i.e., to make sure it "feels" right. AGGGGHHHH! I am struggling with this concept! I usually have several pieces floating through my head at one time (ADD :)). They say, "you will know when it is ready." Jeez! I have lots of work lying around. Some mapped out page by page on poster board (storyboards). Who has the time to smooze, AND search through the thousands of editorial contacts? That's my excuse! Maybe one day!

Thank you for visiting my blog! I truly hope you enjoy!