A Novel Creation www.WatersWords.com

  First Snow   There is always something special about the first snow of the season. I remember as a little girl standing in the yard, my face turned up to the sky, trying to catch fluffy flakes of snow on my tongue.   Our first snow this year came a bit earlier than usual, but as it turns out, just at the right time. Mike was in town from Florida. I was able to enjoy the experience through a fresh lens.    Fortunately, the roads were clear. We planned a trip to my cousin’s house for that day. I didn’t question the notion of him driving on the snowy roads. It wasn’t bad, though. For the most part, the roads were clear. My cousin John and his wife live on a beautiful farm northwest of where I live, but still in Ohio.   John and Jewel tap the sugar maple trees in their woods and make syrup every year. It is sweet and tasty; Made even more delicious because of the love they pour into each jug of syrup. Tapping the trees starts in February so Mike and I couldn’...

  ThanksChristmas   As your children grow up and marry, you often find yourself juggling the holiday calendar to accommodate “the other family.” It can be tough.    Many years ago, after our three daughters were all married, Tom and I began alternating the hosting of our holidays. We could expect the whole family at our house for Thanksgiving one year and Christmas the next. It worked and proved to relieve some of the stress our daughters felt about trying to visit both families in a single day. It also gave us the opportunity to plan a family snow skiing trip over the break when it was our turn to host Christmas. Or, as in 2016, a Christmas Cruise on the Disney Cruise Line.   The Morphing of Thanksgiving   Somewhere along the line, we started exchanging Christmas presents the day after the big turkey fest instead of mailing them or taking them to each house later. The girls called it “ThanksChristmas.”   If you want to know the truth I kind of like Th...

  The Christmas Tree Farm   If you read my post, “Walking on Sunshine” a few weeks ago, you know I love autumn. I love the changing colors of the trees. (If you missed that post, CLICK HERE. )   It’s difficult to capture the indescribable beauty of sunshine on the red, gold, orange, and green leaves. I’ve tried to share with my high school friends in Tampa how special that time of year can be with the vibrant hues of autumn. So when Mike came from Florida for a visit during that colorful season, I expected his firsthand view of the trees to astound him. Instead, he was amazed by the blue spruce “Christmas trees” beside my driveway.    “Everybody has Christmas trees growing right in their yard!” I overheard him say to his sister. “Becky has two right beside her driveway!”   I never considered the only “Christmas trees” native to Florida are long needle pines and cedar trees. Brokers import the more traditional trees to sell on Christmas tree lots there....

  The Power of Care   I am now an official graduate of the West Chester Citizens Police Academy. There were no caps and gowns. No band. No valedictory Speech. No…nothing like that. But there  was  lasagna.       It’s been quite an experience. I have learned and done so much over these past ten weeks.       I completed a  “ride along” from 7:00pm on a Saturday night until 2:00am on a Sunday morning. (And note, I did call it a “ride along” instead of a “drive by”…an error I’ve made more than once.)      I learned the basics of  fingerprinting .      I participated in a  firearms simulator .      I participated in some basic  S.W.A.T. training .      I learned about the division of “ plain clothes ” police officers and all they do.      I learned the ins and outs of the polygraph . (Now that’s something parents of teenagers could use. Or...

  Campfire: 1984. Of  Memories and Marshmallows   Those of you who follow my blog or Facebook account know that for the past eight years, October 29 th  has frequently been a tough day for me. My husband died on that day in 2014 from injuries sustained in a bicycle accident.   It is not a day to celebrate. Though we could. We wouldn’t be celebrating losing him, but rather cheering for him in his new heavenly home.    It is not necessarily a day of mourning, either. Yes, I’ve mourned. Losing Tom was the hardest experience of my life. But over these last eight years, God has been faithful to bring me to places of healing, surround me with people I need, and teach me how to move forward a little more each day.   Through the years, October 29 has simply been a day we recognize. And remember. Some years we’ve gathered for a meal. Some years we’ve visited his grave.   This year we came together at my house. The weather was perfect for my son-i...