March, 2011 Archives


New Beginnings

by Birdie in Life, Musings, The Past

I’ve been writing, seriously and diligently, since I was ten. Unless I was out wandering the forest preserve on a make-believe horse, climbing to the very top branches of our little stand of pines, or building teepees out of old branches in the bushes, you would never find me without paper and pencil. And even those times, when I was out letting my imagination run wild, I never really stopped writing. I was composing poetry in my head, or making up songs, or laying out a scene of prose all around me. Sometimes I was the heroine, and sometimes I was the damsel in distress, but there was always a story in my head, and even if I never wrote it down, I still enjoyed telling it to myself.

I can pinpoint the exact moment when I knew that writing was just something that I loved and had to do. I may not remember the day or the month any more, but I know that it was winter, and we had just had a big snow. I had composed a tiny snippet of a story in my head on the way to my childhood best friend’s house and I wrote it in my weekly journal at school. My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Johnson, was so impressed with it that she asked my permission to read it to the entire class, and asked me to write more for the next week. And every week, when I included a new snippet of writing or a new poem with my journal, she refrained from editing the spelling or grammar or punctuation and wrote only encouraging words.

In those next few months, she nurtured my writing and helped me to stretch out of my comfort zone. She introduced me to a new way of thinking, and helped me to settle into my niche and into a part of me that would become a thread of sanity and stability in my life when things would occasionally come crashing down about my ears.

Over the years, school, work, and life have all gotten in the way of my writing. I drift away and back again as the seasons turn, and each time I return to it, it’s like a homecoming. It’s like settling into a favorite comfortable armchair in a sunny nook with a dear friend. And always, I wonder why I drifted away in the first place.

So, here I am, sending these words out into the ether in hopes that, in some small way here at Suburban Bird, I can spread the joy that writing and so many other creative activities bring to me. Maybe I won’t get to be a Mrs. Johnson to somebody, but even if I try and fail, at least I’ll have left some small, positive mark on the world.

Welcome to Suburban Bird. I hope you’ll stay a while.



by Birdie in Life, Musings

Okay, so maybe this is a little morbid, but today when I was driving, my brain went into overdrive and I started wondering. If I got into a serious car accident, who would care? Who would worry about me, who would send me flowers, and who would wait by the phone to hear that I was well enough to accept visitors? Who would be genuinely worried and who would just be keeping up appearances? My family would do all of those things genuinely, of course, as would my small circle of close friends and possibly some of my coworkers. But everyone else I know?

This wasn’t just all a random thought process. A very dear coworker of mine had a stroke a couple of nights ago, out of the blue. Immediately, there was a phone tree of sorts in place to get up to date information out to everyone at our store who so adore this woman. (Thank God she’s doing okay now.) But would that happen for me?

And, I hate to even think about it, if I died, what mark would I have left on the world? Not much of one at all, I think.

So, it seems rather fitting that I officially begin this creative endeavor and adventure on this day of my birth. Today, this suburban bird is going to spread her wings and touch the world with joy through any creative means she can.

After all, the world could always use a little more color.