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I Wrote Stephen King

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I wrote Stephen King today. I wanted to thank him for what he did for my small town in Northern Maine. For those who didn’t read my post on it, Mr. King donated 50k to my town to open up their own library. That was instrumental in getting it off the ground. . Also many libraries have received funding from him from what I am reading. After sharing this news with a few people it turns out Mr. King also donates money for people to pay for heating oil in the winter. If anyone is familiar with the coldness of Maine you understand why this is a touching gesture

Everyone in Maine knows how to reach Mr. King. His address is simple and direct in Bangor. But I wanted to make sure he got it. So finding his publisher I wrote a letter. But typing it up did not seem sincere so I went out and got some pretty stationary. I had to do this right. I wanted him to know how much it meant to me and my small town. Whether he writes me back or not is not the point of the letter. Though if he did it be AWESOME! But I wanted him to know the donation was received gratefully not just by the people involved in getting the library off the ground but from someone who was raised in this town and still calls it home.

I guess I talk about King a lot for a friend of mine has dubbed me Mrs. King and that amuses me. It is nice to have a local boy do so well and give so much back. We are proud of him.  While I’m not able to donate 50k to the library what I will do is give a copy of my book once it comes out in August. It will be my small way of helping out.

 

My town now has a library. It may only be one room now but this is only the beginning.

 

 

Family, memories, Trip

Recess x2

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I’m shipping back to Maine for a few weeks. It is time I go back and check on my mom to see how she is doing since the funeral. The family is staying behind due to school and work. So giving the blog a small break until I get back.

You all take care of yourselves while I am gone.

P.S. The picture is of Mt Katahdin, it was taken on my last visit to Maine in June of 2012

Author, Birds, Books, Fiddleheads, Jasper, Louis Armstrong

“And when I die and when I’m gone”

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There’ll be , one child born

In this world

To carry on, to carry on

A few years ago I came to terms with my death. Once I did that, the fear of it lessened. I decided then I was going to plan my funeral….in my mind. I wanted the wake to be something that represented me.

One of my favorite movies of all times is “A Christmas Story”. I could watch this movie from January to December and laugh at the same parts repeatedly. My son a couple of years ago got me the leg lamp that is presented in the movie. It is proudly in the front room and lit for people to see from the outside. The lamp would be in the foyer of the funeral home in the window for people to see as they come in. The movie “A Christmas Story” would be playing in a separate room for people to view.

My favorite song of all times “ What A Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong would be playing in the background. This song over the years has healed me in ways no other song has ever done. It reminds me of the bigger picture.

If my birds are still alive at the time, yes they would be attending as well. Anyone who knows me will know I am owned by these feathery animals. They love me unconditionally and only ask to be loved in return.

The food spread out would be foods from my home state of Maine. One would see potatoes dishes of all kind. But not potatoes from that other state, but ones that were grown and picked in my county of Northern Maine. Blueberry pies, fiddleheads, Maine lobster and pressure cooker pot roast with all the veggies would grace the tables. Also would be the foods I have grown to love in my adopted home of North Carolina. Sweet tea ice pitchers, collard and turnip greens, pecan pie and real Southern fried chicken would also be made available.

 

If anyone looked at the walls, there would be frames of pictures I have taken over the years of things that made me smile. My series of my children’s book would be on hand for the little ones to read to keep them occupied.  Flowers from my yard would be in every corner of the room from purple and white azalea, peach camellias, white Easter Lilies to my blood red roses. In one corner would be a rocking chair worn from too much usage and love with a small table next to it containing assorted books and a writing pad with a pen. On the cover of the chair would be my Bible that had seen better days with the creased binder to the pages that had been taped back together. A book that I could never replace just because it was down and out.


My family does think I am nuts to think this much about it. My reply was if they did not do the above I would haunt them.  But if a stranger stumbled in he would know what kind of person I was. Someone who tried to live her life fully with the people and things she loved. Someone from the outside looking in who hopefully would say to themselves  “Well done, you did it.”

It would be the time for someone else to carry on.