A Dream Without A Plan

Sometimes You Need To Give People Something That's For Them, Not Just Something That Makes You Feel Good Giving It.

Peace Is Not Won By Those Who Fiercely Guard Their Differences, But By Those Who With Open Minds And Hearts Seek Out Connections.

. . . Jess Believed, That She Thought He Was The Best. It Was Not The Kind Of Best That Counted Either At School Or At Home, But It Was A Genuine Kind Of Best. He Kept The Knowledge Of It Buried Inside Himself Like A Pirate Treasure. He Was Rich, Very Rich, But No One Could Know About It For Now Except His Fellow Outlaw, Julia Edmunds.

Still, I Kept Writing. I Had No Guarantee That I Would Someday Win Awards For Writing. Heavens, The Only Person During That Time Who Seemed To Think I Could Write Something Worth Publishing Was My Loyal Husband. But I Always Remembered The Professor From Graduate School Who Urged Me To Write And Who Recommended Me For That First Writing Assignment In 1964. When I Protested To Sara Little That I Didn't Want To Add Another Mediocre Writer To The World, She Gently Reminded Me That If I Didn't Dare Mediocrity, I Would Never Write Anything At All.

On Decoration Day, While Everyone Else In Town Was At The Cemetery Decorating The Graves Of Our Glorious War Dead, Willie Beaner And Me, Robert Burns Hewitt, Took Mabel Cramm's Bloomers And Run Them Up The Flagpole In Front Of The Town Hall. That Was The Beginning Of All My Troubles.