Where The Wild Things Grow

Wild Strawberries.  Oh, so, yummy!

The rich pungent aroma of freshly mowed hay filled my senses as I walked along the windrow.   Where the field ended, the woods began.  A small meadow was hidden deep within.

Breaking the wooded barrier, I could barely believe my eyes. Spreading out before me was a flowing sea of tall green grass topped with thousands upon thousands of blossoms in vibrant purple, orange, yellow, and dazzling white.

Hidden beneath their cover, wild strawberries waited.  They were ripe for the taking


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Down in my basement, lined neatly on a shelf are handwritten notebooks chronicling my life. After years of writing, the experience became more of a burden then an important part of my day so I quit writing. Five years later I took up writing again. This time it was in the form of a blog which gave me a place to hang out after I lost my job. From there my blog content morphed into writing about my general contractor experience building our house. As my life experiences grew so did my blog.

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