Where I'm From

So, my blogging took a hiatus for a while. Let's just pretend that it was on purpose :) I'm back now, and I even have a fun project coming up for February, so stay tuned! On Friday my cousin Martha at 50 Sticky Fingers (isn't that a fun name!) blogged about a writing assignment for school. She had to write a poem called "Where I'm From" following this template. She then challenged her readers to do the same and blog about it. I'm so glad she did! My poem is not the best thing I've ever read, heck, it's not even the best thing I've ever written, but it left me in tears to remember my childhood and to reflect on things, people, traits that were integral in making me who I am today. So, without further ado, here is my poem:

Where I'm from
I am from a storm shelter, from Shasta and a trampoline.
I am from the gravel road making smooth, little feet calloused.
I am from the big field that seemed to stretch on for miles, the trees made for climbing.
I am from opening Christmas presents in age order and the Bell mouth, from an O’Hara and a Bell.
I am from the resourceful and the witty.
From “Don’t say ‘shut up’,” "Mom, please make her stop dancing," and “Read your Bible, pray everyday, and you’ll grow, grow, grow.”
I am from prayer unceasing, church every Sunday, Bible Bowl and mission trips.
I am from a land of hot summers, cold winters, and funnel clouds and from a hodgepodge of culture, taco salad on Sundays and the best brownies ever made.
From the striped t-shirt lost on a boat and comforted with ice cream, the stories overheard (and not quite understood) from grown-ups in other rooms, and the loving arms of grandparents not seen nearly often enough.
I am from geography-opoly, long Bible passages and library-sharing day. From fishing boats, Arnold’s, and bluff-jumping. From card games, Sega, and Big Splash. From love that never fails.


I encourage you to write your own poem (and then let me read it!).

And, since no blog is complete without a picture I leave you with a picture of a guy I saw a lot growing up
The Golden Driller