Well before dawn on Sunday, there was a call coming up the stairs, growing closer and louder, “Who’s a skier?” Then a not too gentle knock on the door — BAM BAM BAM. And another call, retreating down the stairs, “The car is leaving in 15 minutes…”
Holiday traditions create feelings of nostalgia in all of us, young and old. Twinkling lights on a Christmas tree, the smell of baked goods floating through the air, and freshly-fallen powdery snow — all evoke the warm feeling of tradition, family, and love during the holiday season.
Our camp was boy heavy. The leader was Tony. We would follow him anywhere. He knew all the cool things to do, like leaning on trees with one foot and tossing rocks at fences. There was Luc, a tiny, quirky guy who would engineer all our imaginings into reality.
It was 2008. I was exhausted, traveling solo through the country, tired of airports already, and had only just begun this adventure. But there you were, […]
As I pulled out the GPS, memories surfaced of Nat navigating the streets of New York decades earlier. Navigating the streets of every country we’d travelled in. He always used to say he carried maps in his head and if he needed to find the right direction, he simply lifted his mind above the car, looked down on the streets and visualised the right route.
Holiday traditions are a big part of every family, regardless of religion. It’s a time to gather, hold close the ones you love, and create new memories. Our family had changed. There were some traditions we needed to let go of and others to which we held tight.
Your map represents the world your characters live in. It might be as small as a doll’s house or as large as a multi-galaxy supercluster, and that’s fine…provided you can keep it all straight.
More than a decade ago, I had the privilege of accompanying my daughter, Rita, on a unique journey. She rode her bicycle or walked from the southernmost tip of Florida, all the way to Canada.
For me, being a part of MockingOwl Roost is part of a more significant thing that needed to be done within me, raising from the dead my ability to write.
I grew up in the ’60s.I believed in Santa Claus.We had a real tree every year with tinsel – real tinsel. And putting it up was a family affair. A tradition that continued into adulthood, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.