Sea BreezesThoughts move through my head like leaves scattering in the fall. I think this is something all writers experience when they are away from paper and pen or computer. I am starting to think of myself as a writer. It is an odd title to give oneself, being as so many people aspire to be a writer. I don't want to have a career as a writer. I have already had two careers, motherhood and teaching. Now that 61 has come about, I can suddenly call myself anything I want to. I am a rider of horses, and a darn good rider. I am a grandmother, which I cherish. I am a wife of 39 years. I am a follower of Christ, I am a writer, I am a dreamer. Today the Glory of God washed over me and for the first time in a long while I feel set free to pursue my dreams rather than count my days on earth.
I will get my work published. I will get my farm and my farmhouse. I will get my pony and ride. I will write about my farm experiences. It is my heart's desire to make others happy, smile, be rinsed with nostalgia, think harder, laugh louder and question. I can do that. God has given me this talent and I do not take it for granted. I am no Thomas Wolfe or Charles Dickens. I am Phyllis Sartin, writer of the simple things in life that we take for granted. My blog has been a great help to me for organizing my thoughts. I wish I wrote in it everyday. Those are my thoughts for being 61. Yesterday, against rules, I dove into the Y pool and was chided by the lifeguard. I apologized, but I explained that I just had to dive into a pool, and I did. I don't think she understood, but then she is 15 and I am 61.
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