Today’s reblog is the 3rd piece I posted. Please make it a beautiful day!

Writer Site

When I was four, I spent the seven-month Michigan winter playing in our basement.  Dad had built walls in opposite corners, one to create a laundry for Mom and the other for his workshop.  The open area just outside the workshop had become my playroom.  Nothing special designated it as mine. The floor was concrete, which Dad had painted with gray industrial paint.  Scotch tape didn’t hold up my drawings on the cinder block wall, and when I tried to nail a finger-painting to the gritty cement, I wasn’t strong enough and Dad’s hammer was too heavy.  The nail slipped to the floor, my painting torn.

What my playroom contained were wooden crates of costumes and dolls and books.  These served as portals to my imagination.  With the single light bulbs shining from overhead, and these possessions spread out before me, the room felt cozy and cheerful, no matter that…

View original post 530 more words

1 Comment

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Memoir, Memoir writing theory

One response to “

  1. Brings back memories, Luanne!

I'd love to hear your comments

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s