Something a little different for me...

So, I went to visit Terresa's blog, she's an amazing writer of peoms and other things.

She links up to Magpie Tales frequently.

So after reading her poem tonight (which was exquisite by the way), I popped over to Magpie for the first time to check things out.

I guess the idea is that a picture is posted for inspiration and you

write a poem or something based on it.

Here's this weeks inspiration.

Well, a poet I am not. But the picture does remind me of something.

Many, many moons ago when I was a wee bit of a lass.....

Ok, I'm being a bit theatrical here no?

Anyhow, when I was in about the third grade we lived in this house in Sandy,  Utah for a little while.

We lived in most places for only a little while when I was growing up. My dad was an army man, and even after he got out of the military, we continued our gypsy sort of existence, moving from place to place every couple of years.

Well, my sister and I were playing in our room one day, and one of the things we were playing with was my moms hourglass. It wasn't just any hourglass. This was a beautiful prize my mom had won from her bowling league in Germany. Mom had a beautiful collection of crystal pieces that she had won from her leagues, and her hourglass was a part of that collection. We were certainly not supposed to be playing with it.

I don't remember how, but I broke her hourglass that day. Then I hid it under my bed.

There it remained for months.

In that same bedroom I broke a window. I had slammed it closed one day, my hand on the glass and my hand went right through the pane. Fortunately I wasn't hurt, but I was SCARED. My dad was going to kill me. I just knew it.

Somehow I managed to hide the fact that the window was broken for weeks or months as well.

So what's the point of all this?

Well, when dad found out I'd broken that window, what were his first words to me?

Certainly not what I'd been fearing. He asked if I'd hurt myself.

And when mom found that hourglass some time later, was she angry at me as I feared?

Maybe so. Maybe she was sad.

If she was I never knew it.

Apparently my parents know the true value of things, and that hourglass and that window had much less value to them than a very impertinent and disobedient eight year old.