Cue the trumpets!
This is my 100th post.
I've been wracking my brain on exactly what to do for this post. I know some bloggers do giveaways or really cool things like contests, but I'm not that cool.
I love to blog. I love reading your blogs. The honesty, hilarity and soul-searching you all do have me in awe. Thank you for coming over to see me! You have all touched my life in many ways. I would write some deep, soul-stirring post about how much your words mean to me, but I wouldn't know what to say.
I do, however, know how to embarrass myself. I will celebrate my 100th post by baring myself for everyone. No, not like that! Well, it was almost like that.
I'm in the Primary presidency at church. (For you non-LDS readers, it's the church's organization for children.) Part of my Sunday duties include running around getting things for teachers, meeting with the other presidency members, making sure no one is clogging up the toilet with toilet paper, etc.
Our Primary room has a different setup. We have a long, rectangular room. There are dividers that we pull open that will hook together to make four rooms on the sides of the big room, two on each side. If we have those closed, we either have to open the divider to get into the room, or walk up to the head of the room, turn to a little tiny alcove, and there's a door.
Yesterday I was so happy that I was prepared for church, and had my clothes all ready. I figured that even though this particular skirt had been big, my slightly larger pregnant tummy would fill it out enough to wear. I didn't see the hole that I thought I had repaired, so at church I went to the library to staple it. That done, I went back to the main room to bring something to the teacher in the back right classroom, the one you need to go behind into the alcove to get to.
I finished with them, and turned to go back to the rest of the presidency who were seated at a table not three feet away. Standing to the side was the spouse of the secretary, the counselor over the Primary.
As I walked towards them, I tripped on something. It was my skirt. I exclaimed "Oh, my!" and jumped back out of the view of the counselor, grabbing my skirt and jumping backwards in one fluid motion. I don't know if he knew what was going on until his wife told him to move back out of sight. I slipped my skirt on, thankful that I had worn a slip, while the Primary president nearly fell out of her chair laughing. It was a good thing that door hadn't opened as the class has about seven boys. What could have made it even worse? It was Professor's class. Oh, yeah.
Needless to say, I headed back to the library to staple my skirt tighter. My sister was there with her baby. Her words when I told her? "Oh, no! That's awesome!" Yep, we rejoice in each other's (Is that correct punctuation, Annette?) tragedies.
So, I figure, what better way to further celebrate my 100th post than to bare myself even further! No, definitely not what you're thinking. Shame on you.
I've been s-l-o-w-l-y attempting to write a book. I've debated back and forth about sharing any of it with anyone who's not family, but I've decided to choke back the fear (Thanks, Kimberly!) and do it. I'll only leave it up a day (or at least an hour) before making it private again.
Maybe it's not the best idea for me to do this, but what the heck. I'm writing it for my children. It's a series of bedtime stories I made up for them that they loved so much I want to write them down. Professor gets after me when I don't work on it for a long while, and he loves to read each new installment. I'm not the kind of writer who gets into tons of detail and endless worlds like Robert Jordan or JK Rowling, I often wonder why I'm even trying when there are scads of people with lots of imagination and gobs of talent. Then I remind myself that it's for me, for my children, and I keep plodding on with my simple story. At this rate it'll be finished in time for my grandchildren.
The only thing I ask is that you leave a comment on this post. I know that there are some of you who visit me on a regular basis, but haven't ever commented. As of now, I grant clemency. I'd like to know who reads the stuff I write! It's ok if you know me in real life or have been reading for a while. (I hate the term lurker!) Please let me know you stopped by. I'm not a person who begs for comments, but I'm hoping you'll indulge me on my celebratory day!
Here's the book--er--thing. Well, the first couple of chapters. I'm into the sixth, but I'm not ready to post them all yet.
Please be kind. I'm not looking for a lot of criticism at this point in its infancy, just sharing it with anyone who might be interested. (Hi, Mom!) Of course, if there's something glaringly wrong or confusing, let me know. If you're still here, thank you for reading. You all make my day, over and over again.
Well, enough jibber-jabber. Here it is: Knights of the Forest