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Writing


    (This picture has nothing at all to do with my post, but I needed a picture and thought the cats were very funny watching the snow.  Sorry for the overexposure.  I’m still working on my camera skills and they wouldn’t re-pose once I figured out my settings.)

    As you may have noticed if you’ve been reading here for a while, I enjoy writing silly rhymes and stories.  (See some here, here, and here.)

    For years I didn’t share anything I wrote (it took a very long time to recover from being laughed at).  I have long had a dream of writing books for children, but whenever I try to figure out the Land of Publishing I lose my way.  Most publishers seem to say right on their web sites that they do not accept submissions for books except from existing authors or those with an agent.  At one point I took that as a final answer.  But then I realized – I have a blog.  I read other peoples’ blogs.  I comment on blogs.  I can write my stories, because it’s the writing that’s important, not the publishing (though that would be absolutely amazing!).

    If you look up at the top of my website, you’ll see that I added a couple of menus for easy navigating – one is for things I’ve sewn, one is for things I knitted, and the one I just added this morning – a menu to find the little things I’ve written.

    There’s one little bit that I wrote on someone else’s blog, but never saved here.  I’d like to save it, so I’ll retell it for you.

    A most amazing and very talented blogger bought a wooden horse to use as decor.  The horse was brand new and looked brand new, but she didn’t want him to look so new.  So she gave him a coat of paint, distressed the paint, added wax and more than a little magic, and posted photos of this brand new, old horse for all to see.   I thought it would be fun to give the little horse a story – to add to the character that she created.  This is what I wrote in the comments of her post:

    Once upon a time there was a little boy who wished for a horse of his very own.

    His father rode a powerful black horse, and the little boy loved to watch his father ride. His mother had a sweet dapple grey that she rode when she was visiting the neighbors. Even his big brother had a pony of his own that he hitched to the cart and drove into town on errands for his mother. The little boy wished for a horse of his very own.

    The little boy’s favorite uncle watched the little boy, and understood the wish, but as the boy was very young, a real horse just wouldn’t do. So the uncle asked a cabinetmaker in a nearby town to make a special horse for the little boy.

    A gift.

    And the boy loved the horse so!

    With his new wooden horse, the boy became a knight defending a castle. He became a farmer who had fields to be worked. He became a merchant, delivering goods to people far and wide. And the little boy lived many adventures with his wooden toy horse.

    The years passed, and one day, when the boy grew into a man, he watched his nephew longing for a horse of his own. And the little boy who grew into a man knew just what to give him.

    P.S. The horse’s name is Bucephalus. It’s a rather big name for a rather small horse, but quite fitting for all the adventures he had. You can call him Buck for short.

    You can see the original post and the original horse here.

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