Short Post

Hi! It's been two months since I posted here. I hope to be back to posting here on a regular basis after summer vacation (mid-September). In the meantime, you can read posts from my other blogs here.

My latest "stone" at The Gathering of Stones

and

a not so short "short note" at Linda's Life on the Other Side.

In the meantime, I hope you are all enjoying your summer vacation. Our has yet to begin. One more week of school. We can't wait.

Sob Stories and Rockin' the House Today

It's been two weeks since the A to Z Blogging Challenge ended. Since then I have been too busy to post, also not been feeling well, but I am back, at least for today, to post. I'll write this, post, and then head off to bed.

The sun has long slipped into the horizon in Germany, but in America evening has just begun. I look at the clock and realize the Rock 4 Rob concert at Chaplins Music Cafe in Spring City, PA, has already come to a close. I missed it. I bet it was a rockin' good time. The bands included Episode 4, No Way Out, and Sierra's Mantra and all proceeds go the the American Diabetes Association. I think that is great. I also think it is fitting that the concert is held today, May 14, because that is Rob's birth date.

Rob and I met when we were four. He lived on an intersecting street, his house just a five minute walk from mine. We went to kindergarten together and elementary school together. In fourth grade I had a crush on him. I can still remember sitting down to sign and seal my valentines for that year. We were required to give everyone in the class one. Mom bought me a super assortment pack with both girly and boyish themes. In fact, she bought me two boxes to ensure that I had plenty to choose from. If I close my eyes, I can still picture the valentine I gave him. It had a big, hairy gorilla holding a red heart in his hand. At the top, it said “I'm ape over you.” I even went as far as to buy a flat, palm-sized candy heart with “I like you” written on it which I inserted inside the envelope with a note that asked, “I like you. Do you like me?” before sealing it.

Well, you know how things work at school. Rob opened it up, some boy saw the candy, snatched the valentine out of his hand, and announced to the entire class that I was in love with him. How embarrassing! Rob remained calm though. He just looked over and smiled sheepishly. I think I blushed brighter than a red heart valentine. We walked home together that day and some days to follow, chatted on the phone, hung out. I think our romance lasted all of maybe two weeks and then we were back to being neighborhood buddies. And we remained good friends for a long time. Here is a photo from our senior yearbook. I am on the left and our friend, Audrey is to the right.  .

While I worked and attended college courses in the evening, Rob went to a college not far from us and I went to visit him on occasion to hang out and talk. When I turned 21, he was the only guy from school that I invited to my party. At that time I was dating the man who is now my husband. I really wanted Rob to meet him and it meant a lot to me that Rob liked Stefan right away. Although I already have three brothers, Rob had became like a fourth brother to me. (But, really, even better than a brother because I could be myself with him, do and say whatever I wanted, and never fear he would tattle to mom and dad. He'd just give me “a talkin' to” himself. And his advice was always spot on.) Not only had we known each other for so long, but we also shared two big common interests— music and language/writing. Rob grew up to become an editor of a medical journal and played in a band. In fact, he formerly played in all the bands that performed at the Rock 4 Rob concert today. Unfortunately, Rob died November 10, 2009, at the age of 41.

On the morning of November 11, I got an email from my cousin Bob informing me of the bad news. Though I knew Rob had been diagnosed with diabetes a very long time ago, it still shocked me. That Billy Joel song immediately came to mind. Only the good die young. I sat in front of my computer screen crying. I felt sadness, loss and guilt. Guilt because after I got married and moved and he got married and moved, we lost touch. So many years had gone by. I wanted to get back in touch with him, see how he was doing, thank him for being such a great friend during those turbulent childhood years. Only a year before I had searched for him on Facebook and Classmates, but there was no listing for him. Now it was too late.

So I did what I thought Rob might have done. I sat down and wrote. I wrote how I felt. Then I wrote a poem about death. A sonnet. Well, it followed the rhyme scheme at least, but I was too lazy to count syllables and pay attention to meter. Then I informed a few old friends of ours, drank a cup of coffee, called my mom. I thought about his mother and father. They are great parents and wonderful people. When I started my first job and had to ride my bicycle into town, they worked nearby and would give me a lift when it rained or when I woke up late . They spoke to me like a person, not a kid, and I liked that. And I always felt welcome in their home. The first thing I would do when I walked in the living room was look at the painting of a little boy that hung there. I couldn't help it. That picture drew my attention every time because I knew it was Tim, their other son who passed away at age three, a few years before Rob even came into this world. Now they had lost another child. Being a mother myself, I can now imagine the pain they went through then and the tremendous loss they must feel once again. It breaks my heart.

Earlier this year his sister Sue compiled some of Rob's early writing (stories and poetry) and coupled it with her own work to publish a book entitled SoB Stories: Writings of a Sister and a Brother. Growing up I had the pleasure of reading some of Rob's stories but I never knew he wrote poetry. I love poetry and write it myself, so imagine my surprise when Sue told me one of the poems had my name in it.

My mother bought me the book for my birthday and, of course, I went right to that poem. Though it mentions me, it is not about me but rather another girl we went to school with. It is called The Visitor and is written in three parts. And it is good. I especially like his description of her in that pink sweater she wore, the one with embroidered birds-- a girl with wheat brown waves wearing birds imprisoned by stitches-- and this line near the end-- I stare at the leaves that flutter like butterflies against a chill breeze.

I continued to read the other poems. Though sad, I couldn't help but smile with acknowledgment as I read I never knew you except for stories and the oil-painted photo quiet as stone in the living room in his poem Timothy. The wording in this poem does a good job conveying what it is like to feel a loss for someone who passed on before you were born, to mourn a brother never known, the loss of relationship that never came to be. Sue, who was 5 when Tim died, wrote her own poem for him, Blue Bleeds into Black. It is my favorite poem of hers in this collection. Written from her perspective at the age of his death, the beginning stanza drew me in immediately.

My brother's gone. My mother said. She told me that he died.

I didn't know just what to feel, despite the tears I cried.

God needs him now, she said to me. But what does heaven lack?

I need him, too. I love him so. I want my brother back.

But my absolute favorite poem is Snowflake written by Rob. I love to watch snow fall, to see it paint the tree branches in glistening white and cover fields in soft drifts of winter. So it is no wonder that this poem spoke to me. I like the imagery and particularly like this word picture:

Silently and steadily they slip,

sneakily through bough

of sycamore and spruce to nestle

like a baby bird

In the crook of my neck, or the

fringe of my wool scarf...

I find myself reading this one over and over again. It gives me the same serene feeling as actually watching a winter wonderland slowly cascade from the sky.

The majority of my blogger friends are writers; many are poets. If you like what you've read so far, feel free to purchase your own copy here. This 173 page book consists of 18 poems and 26 stories. I haven't finished reading all the stories yet but thoroughly enjoyed Sue's comical piece Psychology is My Cup of Tea which has Freud, Erickson, Paiget and the likes engaging in a funny debate as well as One Man's Armor which is like a short fairy tale or modern Aesop's fable. Rob's piece Mauby's Corner is great flash fiction and his longer story, Margaritas, took me back to my youth and reminded me of some people I knew back then.

I wish Rob were still here to spend time with his son, to share moments with Sue, his parents, and friends, to write more, to play guitar, to enjoy a bit of the goodness that life offers, because he always gave his best to others. I honestly cannot recall a single bad comment about another person leaving his mouth during all the years I knew him. He saw the good in everyone and was there to help when they were in a bad place. A real great guy. He left this world too soon. Unexpectedly. But we all, every day, live on the edge of life and death. We never know when our time is up, when those we care about will pass, when souls will cross. We tend to take people for granted. I challenge you, if just for today, to reach out to those important to you, let them know, in some way, how much you care about them. Don't wait until it is too late.

I leave you with the poem I wrote after I learned of Rob's death. He was the first meaningful childhood friend I lost, and that day I sat and thought hard about every person I ever cared about. Perhaps it is not written as well as Rob might have done, but it is all I have to offer you. Here is my attempt at an Italian sonnet, the form of which one might refer to as a semi-sonnet, since I was too lazy to follow all the rules.

The Spinning of Wool

The last time the earth swallowed me whole
was the day a choir of angels flew,
singing their welcome song for you
as they gently lifted your eternal soul
from its earthly home to that celestial pole
where you, my old friend, begin life anew.
I remain with fond memories to carry me through,
to hold on to times shared, to help console,

but mostly, I am reminded what a fragile thread
life is, how we fail to recognize that time spins
the wool continuously, always growing thinner,
ready to snap at any given moment, the dead
then wrapped in pure heavenly skins,
no longer of earthly being, no longer sinner.

Happy birthday, Rob! May the love of those you left behind reach up to the heavens today and let you know you are not forgotten.

And to Sue-- I hope Rock 4 Rob was a huge success and that all who attended had a blast.

Not the End

Today is the last day of April and I am thinking, “How the heck did that happen?” The month seemed to fly by. That means that today is the last day of the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Or maybe not. Normally I would totally fret not meeting the deadline, but I've learned to take things in stride. So what if I still have to do V, W, X, Y and Z. Are the blogging police going to hunt me down and give me a citation? Nah. So I can just not finish the race...or I can just post late, which is what I'll do. I'll just finish when I can. Life is too short to sweat the little things.

In an effort to post something today I am cheating a bit and posting a few videos for my V post.

The first is one from Robbie Williams and Kylie Minogue. I like both of them and they seem to be having a lot of fun in this video. I hope you enjoy it. Here is Kids.

The next video also includes Robbie. This time he sings with Nicole Kidman. Not only do they both have great voices, I love the story presented and the classic look.

That Robbie and Nicole video just gives you a good feeling, doesn't it? Aaah, to be in love. But what if love doesn't work out? The next video always makes me grin. I first saw it posted on my friend's Facebook page. I'd never heard of Jaron and The Long Road to Love. I am not sure if they play him on German radio or not, but this song is great.

And the last one is not one I like to watch. The first few times I thought it was interesting but now it is more disturbing. I call it Planet of the Apes meets the creator of Frankenstein. Very clever but weird. I hope I don't have strange dreams tonight.

Now that is scary! Modified ape-people. Creepy-looking things, aren't they. The mad scientist guy ain't too hot-looking either.

Oh, and I almost forgot. V isn't just for videos. V is for votes. My friend, Nikki, (who unlike the monkey creatures isn't creepy at all) needs votes. She is very close to winning the Hometown Hotties competition. You can help. Go to this site, register and vote for “that1girl”. If you do, I'll keep the mad scientists away from you and you will be blessed with good kharma. :-)

That's it for now. Maybe I'll post the rest of my letter posts tomorrow. Maybe not. Maybe I'll just spend it with the family and post on Monday. Or even Tuesday. Yeah, I am blogging deadline rebel. LOL

Not What you Expected?

The other day I posted about being three days behind in the A to Z Blogging Challenge and vowed to catch up. Well, so much for that. Even though I posted, I missed a few more days and am now four days behind. I hadn't planned on that. Perhaps my U word for today should be unplanned. That would be fitting.

For today's post, I'd like to welcome you into my world. I live in a small village in Germany. I'm not sure what the current population is but I would guess it is less than 800 people. In former times many farmers lived here, the unpaved roads saw more tractor traffic than cars, and the hills I can see from my kitchen window were once home to rows and rows of grapes. How things change. In the past few years much talk regarding the heavy traffic on the main road has been discussed. We still have tractor traffic occasionally, but these are more of what you might call hobby farmers. There is only one man that I'd consider a real farmer since he has several cows and fields, but one can no longer call this a farming community. Also, though the hills still remain, there are no vineyards there. Well, not real vineyards. There are two plots of land which have grapes planted.

For the past several years, he has been making wine. Sometimes red, sometimes white. Both were good, but I thought the white was exceptional. He only made enough for our own consumption and entertaining, and he got the grapes from a winery. You can do that here. Buy grapes, pressed, from local vintners. Then we had the great fortune of acquiring a plot of land in the hills. We noticed that another family had several rows of grapes growing, so my husband, Stefan, decided the plant some as well. Since good, inexpensive red wine is readily available in Germany (there are wineries all over Rems-Murr-Kreis and we often go for long strolls through the vineyards on a Sunday afternoon) we decided to grow white grapes, a variety called Johanniter. I am not sure of the English translation and the online translator offered no help.

If you are a wine-lover, you'll know that it takes about seven years until the vines produce grapes worthy of wine. Our young grapevines are coming along fine, and we often walk up to check on them. Once a few wild boar had trampled through our property and made a mess but the saplings were unharmed. After the first winter, two plants didn't survive. We are glad the early stages are going well.

Two weeks ago we drove the car up, a bunch of gardening equipment in the trunk. We spent about an hour working, then took a few minutes to admire the view. We have a great vantage point over the village. Then we pack our supplies and started driving down the narrow, winding paths. When we got to where the path meets the main road into town, my husband turned right instead of left. “If you're not in a hurry to get home, I'd like to show you something,” he said. I agreed, and we continued out of town, up through the next town and down some winding country roads. When we got out to the motorcycle course where we watch the International Motorcross competition each year, I started to wonder where heck he was taking me. I asked but he only replied with, “You'll see.” So I sat and wondered a bit more. As I pondered our destination, a flower field came into view. These are common in our area. We even have a small one in our own village. The owners, possibly farmers, plant a variety of flowers. When they are in bloom, you can go pick them. A small stand has a can or wooden container set under the sign indicating the price. Often a knife also is made available for cutting the stalks. Yep...I said knife. Just sitting there waiting for someone to use it. It makes me laugh a bit, because I know a few of my American friends would be screaming, “Oh, my God. They have a knife just sitting there and anyone could pick it up and use it!!!” Well, to be honest, it happens a lot. Crazy people come out and use it...to cut flowers! In the ten years we've been here, I haven't heard of any being stolen or any incidents happening.

In any case, this huge field came into view, full of nothing but tulips, several varieities and many colors. Cream-colored, yellow, mandarin, deep violet, pink. Of course, there were several shades of red-- a true red, crimson, scarlet, burgundy. I mentioned how beautiful it looked and he said, “I thought you'd like it. Want to pick some?” He pulled over into the lot, and we did just that. Two other people were also building bouquets as they walked up one row and down the other.

On the way home I sat thinking what a beautiful bunch of flowers we'd selected and how it is those unplanned moments, those little extras that we sandwich in between all the routine and common, that make life enjoyable. (It also helps to have an awesome husband, but that is another story.) Speaking of stories, here is a word of advice for all my writer friends. Don't forget the unplanned. No one wants to read a short story or book where everything the plot is predictable. Even characters shouldn't be totally predictable. A protagonist can't be bad all the time. Let the poor guy shed a tear when he thinks about that tragic moment in his past. Let him help some old lady cross the street. Heck, he could even have a dog that he treats like a King. And that main character you love so much—guess what? He or she has flaws. Let them show. Your characters need to be realistic. No one can be brave all the time or always confident or eternally cheerful. Let them test their boundaries, show their fears, make mistakes. After all, no one is perfect. The moment one of your lead subjects steps out of character is the time our interest peaks. We think, “Gee, I wasn't expecting that.”

And another thing...step out of character yourself some times. Go ahead. Have a little fun. Maybe try something new. You might freak your friends out a bit. Of course, you might surprise them in a good way. One thing is for certain. You'll learn something about yourself in the process.

In my O post, I spoke about how I learned the meaning of ornery. I learned it when I stepped out of character, and I learned a lot about myself that day. Do you have a tale about a time you stepped out of character. If so, share it will me in the comments section. I'd love to hear it. Hey, even if you hadn't planned on commenting here, I dare you. Go ahead and do it. Make me smile.

A Surprise Gift for YOU!

Do you like surprises? Let's imagine you receive a surprise. You come home one day and there it is, a package the size of a shoe box waiting for you. Don't you just love getting real mail every once in a while? And yep, it is definitely for YOU. Your name and address are right there scribbled under the canceled stamps. If it were me, I'd immediately assume it was from my mother. She sends me packages every now and then. What are thinking? Is it from a best friend? An aunt or uncle? The strange guy at work who keeps asking you out regardless how many times you say no? Why won't he just get the hint! Or maybe...maybe it's from someone you don't officially know yet. It could be from anybody.

Now, let's go back in time a bit. Instead of you being the current you, you are the old you, the you that you were way back in high school. Let's say, perhaps 16 or 17. This package with your name on it is just sitting on your doorstep waiting for you to open it. And the kicker is, there is no return address. Hmmm...quite a mystery. Now, don't worry. I know that all of you reading this were super great people at that age. Right? You never picked on the “band nerds” or told that girl with acne problems that she had more craters than the moon. Right? You never flirted with someone until they fell for you and then dropped them like a hot potato. Right? And you certainly never laughed at that nice boy who sat behind you in math class, the one who stuttered when he got nervous. Right? And if you did those things, let's pretend you didn't. Okay? You are a nice person so don't be afraid that inside this box is a bottle with homemade explosives waiting to burst in your face. You don't need to worry.

Now, let's open it up and see what's inside (rip, snip, open the lid). Aaah, how interesting! Wrapped in some packaging paper are a few audio tapes. No. Not Led Zeppelin and AC/DC. These are the ones you buy and record things on yourself. There are several of them, all marked with red numbers. It looks sort of like the red was done with...could it be...nail polish? Each side has a number. The first cassette begins with the number 1 on side A and 2 on side B and they continue in sequence up to the last tape which has a 13 on one side and no marking on the backside. Thirteen parts. Thirteen sides to listen to.

This actually happened. Not to me but to Clay Jensen. Clay is a nice guy, just like you. Clay is curious, just as you might be, so he pops in the first tape and what does he hear? He hears her voice, the voice of Hannah Baker. Hannah, his school crush, is speaking to him. The only problem is that Hannah committed suicide two weeks ago. He's still pretty distraught about it, and now her voice is speaking, like a ghost slipping out of the speakers and into ears. Sort of eery, dontcha think? Especially when he listens to her says something like "There are thirteen reasons why I killed myself and if you are receiving these tapes, then you are one of those reasons."

(gulp) Me? What did I do? Say it isn't so!!!

That is the storyline of the book Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher. I bought this book, because I noticed it won many awards. To see a list of the those awards, click here. It is actually listed as a book for teens/young adults, but I read it anyway. Yeah...I read children's literature. So what...go ahead and laugh. I don't care. I like to read books first before recommending them to my daughter. She will turn 13 this summer, and though I think this is a book every teenager should read, I think she is a bit young for it now. I will keep it on my shelf until she is a bit older. Adults might also benefit from reading it, because it list many signs to look for in troubled teens, signs that might help you prevent a child from taking his or her life.

I enjoyed this book very much and do you want to know something else? I cried when I read it. (Yeah...go ahead and call me a softy. But I tell you this: go read other people's reviews and they will say the same thing. Bit of a tear-jerker.) Even though this is/was Asher's first book (I''m not sure if he has any other books out yet, guess I should have done my research before posting), he did a wonderful job of developing his characters. As I read the story, many of them reminded me of teenagers I knew growing up. The personalities and situations presented were so true to life. The plot is presented in what we might call dueling dialogue, flip-flopping between Hannah and Clay throughout, yet allowing you to get to know the other characters in the process. By the time you've reached the end, you will know the all the reasons why Hannah decided to take her own life. It might make you sit and think about someone who did the same thing. It might make you question the way you interact with those around you. It might make you feel anger or sadness or disbelief. A few online reviews I read came from teenagers saying they still didn't know why Hannah did it, that she made a mountain out of a molehill. Personally, I think they missed the whole point of the book. Regardless of whether or not one "gets it" it is still a page-turner. It keeps you guessing what will come next.

If you want to here the author himself speak about writing the book, there is a nice audio clip of him at his website here. It is listed under the title "Listen to two of Jay's friends interview him about his book". I would post a link here but, to be honest, I couldn't figure it out. 

If you have a teenager (or even if you don't) you might want to visit your local bookstore or public library and pick up a copy of this book. You won't be disappointed. If you want to order one through Amazon, click here.

That's my T post for the A to Z Blogging Challenge. T is for thirteen.

Do you ever read literature written for a younger audience? If so, what might you recommend for a 13-year old girl? Since our local bookstores only have a limited number of English books, we usually have them order specific titles for us. Any ideas are appreciated.

S is for eggs! Well, sort of.

I know this is supposed to be a language blog, but I'm going off-topic today. This is just too neat. My S post for the A to Z Blogging Challenge is about the fountain in the town of Schechingen.

The day before Easter my family went to Schechingen to see the Easter fountain. Each year the town's fountain is a bright and colorfully decorated twist and twirl of Easter eggs. These eggs are real eggs (a combination of chicken, goose and ostrich eggs) which are hand-painted. Each egg takes from one to 40 hours to paint. Eighteen to twenty people spend up to 25 days creating these stunning eggs and then many more hours to attach them to the fountain. All together there are over 9,600 eggs!

One thing I liked about the fountain is that the eggs were often grouped according to a certain theme. Some eggs were put together based on a color scheme such as these red and white eggs.

Others, appropriately, depicted religious figures and scenes.

Then there were Hummel characters

and eggs showing different Handwerker (tradesmen).

Even eggs based on various beers or products.

My daughter got excited when she saw Hello, Kitty.

There were even artsy eggs like these. Do you know the original paintings they are based on and the artists that painted them?

 

There were so many varieties from German culture, the arts, animals, soccer, cartoon characters, and so on.

Some were climbing the green leafy arches while others were hanging; some had the viewpoint of blue sky as a background, others the clear blue water in the fountain. 

 

All the eggs were so wonderfully created, that it is hard to pick a favorite theme or favorite egg, but here are a few which caught my eye.

I liked these flowery eggs.

This ostrich egg also caught my eye.

And this egg made me laugh. It's red stuck out like a sore thumb among the blue eggs and it was the last thing I was expecting to see on an Easter egg in Germany.

I hope you enjoyed the photos. I wish I could paint eggs as nicely as these. Last year we made rainbow eggs and golden eggs. This year we colored most in pastel colors and another batch we did in turquoise with silver highlights. Each year we like to try something different. How did you color your eggs this year?

An award for me? Really?

What a surprise! I've been awarded a Versatile Blogger Award by Debra Ann Elliott. Thank you so much, Debra.

To check out Debra's blog Writing with Debra, click here.

Of course, I can't just accept the award. This award comes with rules. Who knew awards had rules? Anyway, here they are:

Rules for The Versatile Blogger Award 

Thank and link back to the person who gave you this award.

Share seven things about you.

Pass the award along to other deserving bloggers. (I've seen some rules state 15 other blogs, others say 10, some just say pass it on. I will try to pick ten.)

Contact the bloggers you’ve picked and let them know about the award.

Seven Things About Me

1. I believe in equality. When it is time for dessert, my portion should be just as big as yours
2. I believe that if people were meant to pop out of bed in the morning, we'd all sleep in toasters.
3. I believe in unicorns. They are all grey and fat and some people call them rhinos.
4. I know Kung fu and 20 other dangerous words.
5. I dream of a better tomorrow, a world where chickens can cross the road and not have their motives questioned.
6. My parents always told me I could become anything I wanted, so I became a blogger.
7. Sometimes when it is very quiet, I can hear my brain cells die. Poof! Gone.

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But seriously, I should make it a bit more personal, shouldn't I? And perhaps...serious? Okay, let's try again.

Seven Things About Me

1. I have very long eye lashes.

2. I get together with my mother every Friday afternoon.

3. I have a cat named Shadow.

4. I can speak four languages—English, German, Italian, and Japanese.

5. My children's book, The Secret Life of Mrs. Kormann, will be released in October.

6. I have trouble shopping for clothing because I am a size 5 and the selection is always limited.

7. I am lucky enough to have inherited a bit of money that allows me to stay home and write, write, write. Yeah, I know...you hate me right now.

Oh, and if I could add one more, it would be that I wish all the above things were true. Aah...delusions of grandeur...aren't they...grand? How I wish some of those things were true.

All right. Here it is. My last list. THE list. This one is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Of course, that means it is a lot less interesting than the other lists.

1. I don't like raw tomatoes.

2. I love the smell of honeysuckle.

3. I enjoy the sound of birds chirping. I am also a big fan of music composed by humans.

4. I have one sister, three brothers, and three step-sisters. Most of them have 2 or 3 children. All of them live thousands of miles away. It's just me, my wonderful husband, and our daughter here. Some days I find that good, others not so good.

5. I think I am allergic to mornings. That may have something to do with me being a night owl.

6. My middle name is Ann. I hate it. It think it is so boring.

7. Before studying to be a teacher, I worked as a secretary for a lawyer.

Now that that is finished, here are the people I feel are deserving of this award (or at least those that I read and enjoy and who don't have a kazillion of this award already).

Laurie Kolp. She has two blogs. One is called Conversations with Laurie, where she posts poetry and other writing, and the second blog is Conversations with a Cardinal, where she shares life stories.

Michelle Hed. On her blog, The Pen, Lens and Brush, Michelle highlights all her artistic talents—writing, photography and painting.

Terri French. Terri also shares her wonderful photos and combines them with haiku on her blog themullingmuse. She teaches courses in haiku and writes articles for a local newspaper (among her many other talents.)

Margo Jodyne Dills. On her blog, It's Always Something, she shares her poetry. I love popping in to see her latest work. At the moment she is busy on revisions for a novel.

Beth R+V. Her blogis Rhubarb and Venison. A North Dakota food blog? You betcha. Here you can find loads of great recipes and interesting cooking tidbits.

Katarina Hofke at the blog totallykati. Yeah, okay...I admit. She is my daughter. But I think it is cool that a 12-year old blogs on a range of subjects from make-up, movie tips, books, and friendship. She blogs in German and never seems to use the spell check (let's call it creative spelling?), but I give her a thumbs up for for creative thinking and effort. At least she doesn't just write about herself.

Greg Johnson. His blog is My Journey to Wellness. Diagnosed with MS but more likely, in his belief, aspartame poisoning, he talks about the dietary and life changes he has made on the way to recovery. These ideas are not just helpful for him, but can benefit us all. A wealth of nutritional and health information is listed.

Joyce Shor Johnson whose blog has the same name as her. What can I say about this blog? She blogs about a variety of different topics and always holds my interest. If you want to know what those topics might be, go check it out.

E.J. Wesley at The Open Vein. For the month of April he has written about various topics regarding writing but done so intertwined with humor. I came across his blog through the A to Z Blogging Challenge and am glad I did. I like his style. Always a good read.

Matt Conlon at =]V[=. He considers himself a a Bostonian father, network technician, and all around geek and writes about diversified subjects. I love this blog. He also has a beer blog. I am not a beer drinker myself but if you are, why not see what he has to say there. (yeah, I know you already have a few of these, Matt, but I think you deserve another)

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That's ten. Sure, I could think of others. I also enjoy the book reviews at Discriminating Reader and the poems at Enthusiastic Soul or The Poet Tree. I get a real kick out of The Alliterative Allomorph this month. Each day a new mystery word is defined/presented for everyone to guess. That's fun. I also like Fudge me..that's good! The title alone makes me laugh and the recipes/photos look delicious. I could go on and on and on. I am hoping someone will hand out awards to them sometime. If not, I guess they will be on the list for the next time I receive one.  :-)

Thanks again, Debra Ann Elliott, and congratulations to my recipients. Keep on blogging!