An excerpt from my memoir, Pools

This fall I had set a goal to finish the first three chapters of Pools of Blessing, my memoir, by the end of September. And today, Whoop! Whoop! I got ‘er done.

Below you’ll find a little excerpt from the newly finished Chapter Three; To Be or Not to Be—A  Daddy’s Girl. 

A little background here; Growing up I was a Daddy’s girl. I followed him everywhere—many times to my own detriment. This excerpt from Pools shares two memories I have of spending time with Dad. Hope you enjoy it. 

There are many good memories I have of working with Dad, though at the time, they seemed anything but good. One Saturday, Dad wanted help cleaning out our backyard shed.  This shed also served as a dog house , though no pampered dog of ours ever actually lived there. Since I was deathly afraid of spiders and mice, it took Dad awhile to convince me to help.  

“Nic, there’s no mice in there.  You’ll be fine,” he assured me.  

I trusted him, mostly.  So I set out to sweep the inside of the pen. Thirty seconds later I was screaming at the top of my lungs, “Dad it’s a mouse, it’s a mouse! Help!”  

The little rodent and I were trapped in the same small space. I panicked. Backing myself into a corner, I held the broom in front of my face—staring the little pest down. Hearing my scream, Dad came to my rescue. He chased the mouse out of our shed, and I begrudgingly continued sweeping.   

You’d think after awhile I would figure out that working on Dad’s projects wasn’t always in my best interest.  

 

I found other ways to spend time with Dad.  In fact, following him around became a full time past time. I even went so far as to go hunting with him. 

It was dove hunting season and, when Dad asked me to go, I decided it would be fun. Well, if you can call laying in a field at  five am in the morning; peeing behind trees every thirty minutes, (hey, I had to drink something to stay warm); and watching poor helpless birds fall from the sky then, yes, I had fun.

But my sensitive side couldn't take the carnage happening all around me. When I saw the soft, warm, fuzzy little things lying helplessly on the ground, I had this fleeting idea to try mouth to beak CPR. Needless to say, I never went hunting with my dad again.

It feels good to have reached a goal that I set for myself. I’m hoping to stay on track. My goal is to have the book ready in the spring--to be professionally edited. Wish me luck!