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“Birdie’s Box”

I like to think of myself as a writer, and I sometimes entertain the idea that this thought is shared by others. I tend to dabble in the poetic stream of things rather than short stories or novels.  However, that could easily change.

I also consider myself to be an avid birder, yet don’t expect me to be able to recite the name of every single bird I see.  Only my mother could do that!  That goes for naming plants, flowers, trees, and grasses, too.  I enjoy viewing them all, but I am unable to identify each one like she could.

Speaking of my mother, I guess that is what I do best:  Mothering practically everyone I come in contact with.  I am so much like her!  I was her caregiver for quite a few years, and oh, what both a pleasure and a time-consuming job that was!  Before my nursing days with my mama, she, being a mother, was in a sense, the same to me, a loving caregiver.  That’s the way I see it.  It doesn’t make a bit of difference whether you are married, divorced, widowed, or single.   Your mother is born with the duty of being your caregiver the moment she enters the world for the very first time.  With one, determined slap on her backside, she is opened up to a life made for nurturing others.  It comes by instinct created by our Heavenly Father.  It is included within the whole package.  So when given the opportunity to return this kindness, how could anyone in their right mind possibly refuse?  What a blessing to be able to be a mother right back to your very own mama.

I relish my time spent collecting things:  Aging postage stamps, old coins, antiques purchased in some cozy and inviting out-of-the-way place, and especially artwork.  Yes, I am a bit of a pack-rat.  I must live in a home that includes a basement or some other storage area just so I can keep my collectibles protected.  LOL!  I have always been this way.  I even have what I consider to be a little box in which I can store my thoughts and ideas. I simply refer to it as my, “Birdie’s Box.”  And out of my “Birdie’s Box” comes all of the words formed together by me to create something that is hopefully fun and interesting to read. With that, I invite you to “come on in, read, and listen for a bit with me.”  Welcome!

One comment on ““Birdie’s Box”

  1. As a child, my mama used to read poetry to me. I loved the way the words rhymed and the stories they told. Often, I would take them to heart and be able to recite them from memory. I began writing my own stories in the form of poetry, sometimes with intense emotion, and at other times, with nonsense and just for fun. Either way, poetry made me feel good, whether I was writing it myself or reading what someone else had written. I happened upon this website accidentally, and I decided it would be enjoyable to make a go of it. I hope you will also find some entertainment here.

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