No Words Necessary

I won State with this entry this past fall.

Enjoy.

No Words Necessary

I love words.

I am a word connoisseur.

I subscribe to email services that send me a word a day. I have the dictionary.com app downloaded on my iPod for instant definition lookups.

My father thinks I talk 24 hours a day. My friends hardly get a word in during conversations. I have even been known to talk in my sleep.

But sometimes, just for a few moments in my life, there have been no words necessary, but I knew what was said.

When I have felt the blue sky tickle my toes as my daddy pushed me high on the big rope swing in our yard, I yelled for him to push me higher. But no words were needed to tell him I loved the time he with me.

No words were needed later as I hid from Mama who warned me not to get on that same swing because the rope was wearing thin. But I did. It snapped loudly and slapped my face, giving me a black eye. Mama didn’t even say “I told you so,” when she discovered me, but I knew she was thinking it.

When I have licked huckleberry juice that was running down my arms as I picked them in the Sandhole with my grandmother, Mam-o, no words were necessary to tell her of the tartness that went from my lips to my tummy. I think she knew I changed my mind after I tasted them stewed up with her dumplings drenched in sugar and milk. I grunted a satisfied “Mmm.”

When I sat at Aunt Annie Lee’s landing with Carol Lee no words were necessary to let her know that she would always be my best friend. She knew that was true when I hugged her the afternoon her mama died and told her I would always be there for her.

No words were needed at that same landing one day after school when my second-cousin Tate taunted his dog to “sic me” just to see me get mad. He knows I love him, though, from that hit on the shoulder I gave him last week.

When I spent the night at the Banks in Ruby’s and Julian’s cabin and swatted at buzzing mosquitoes in the dark stillness, I whined to inform my family of my miserable suffering. No words were spoken there, though, when we went back years later and found the scarred remains of the camp after it had been burned to the ground after the federal take-over of Shackleford in 1985.

And I didn’t need to talk when I was the only person at Shell Point a few weeks back at 5 AM watching the meteor shower. I didn’t even say “Wow!” as the blazing stars streaked across the sky. The lapping waves of Back Sound said enough as they sparkled the reflection off their salty surface.

No words were necessary during these times, but one thing is certain, I’ll never forget what was said.

My Winning Entry

I have recently won a writing competition. It is through the Twin Rivers Reading Council, of which I am a member. I have won for my writing in the past two years, as well. This year's theme was about "Bridges." I decided to write about the first thought that came to mind when I heard the topic. Here is the entry:

My Bridge

I have a bridge. It takes me home everyday. It is long and curved with paved sections that “boom-boom” as you cross over them. My memories begin to flood back like the wake of the water splashing underneath the stoic pillars bearing the weight of those coming and going.

My bridge spans the Straits leading into Core Sound separating Harkers Island from the mainland. My first trip over the bridge was when I was two days old. I wonder how my infantile brain processed the feelings of going home for the first time. My bridge was there to take me home. It has always stood to be the gateway onto my island.

When my sisters and I were little girls traveling home from a long trip we would count the sections of that same bridge until we hit the sandy earth of the Island. We would then shout happily “We on Ha-key Island, We on Ha-key Island.” It seemed silly, but we were intrinsically thrilled to be on the other side of the bridge, to be home.

That bridge has led me home with a full moon shining on the water below and when the sun has glistened off the sparkling saltwater I can taste on my lips. It has remained immovable in the strong winds of several hurricanes. Its guardrails have protected cars as they have skidded on slippery ice that has blanketed its sections. It has swung its middle spans to allow shrimp boats to slowly glide through on their way to catch the sustenance that would support their families. It has even been the place where fears have been abandoned as a few brave or fatuous kids have leapt from its edge into the deep channel below, fortunately into safety.

I love that bridge. John Denver loved his “Country Roads” that took him home, but my “country road” is a salt-washed bridge. It is my personal beacon that awaits me at the end of my long day. It allows me to leave the world of the mainland and enter the place I love: my island, my home.

Bombastically Speaking

Today I am sharing one of my favorite quotes by Abraham Lincoln:

"Property is the fruit of labor...property is desirable...is a positive good in the world. That some should be rich shows that others may become rich, and hence is just encouragement to industry and enterprise. Let not him who is houseless pull down the house of another; but let him labor diligently and build one for himself, thus by example assuring that his own shall be safe from violence when built."

~Abraham Lincoln "Reply to New York Workingmen's Democratic Republican Association"
(March 21, 1864)




I am proud to say that I never borrowed or received a grant from the government of our fine state of North Carolina or the United States. I worked my way through school to earn my BS in Elementary Education on my own. Yes, I lived with my parents. Yes, I drove an non air-conditioned car for part of that time and no, I did not take money from my parents.

I am so proud of my accomplishment. It proves to me that anyone can do the same! It only takes a determination to do so. When I hear people spue the rhetoric that everyone deserves a college education and that the little bit of money that I do now earn should be patriotically taken to help "everyone" get this promised education, I get mad...yes, mad!

True patriots will do as I have done and will work their bottoms off to make their own dreams a realization and not depend on those of us who have done so already! My decision to return to school at age 25 was not dependent on anyone else but myself! It was my duty to pay for that decision. I can only hope others can realize that I value my education even more due to the fact that it truly is mine! I encourage us all to become more self-sufficient and dependable. Let us "build up our own houses" as Mr. Lincoln stated. Make your own dreams come true. Do not leave it up to me to do it for you!

Bombastically Yours,

Melinda

Pam, An American Hero

Today while on our way to lunch, my friend Pam told us of an event that had happened a couple of weeks back.

First, let me set the scene: Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru window, Saturday morning. The following conversation took place:

Dunkin' Donuts Window Boy (who, hereafter, will be known as DD): "Good morning, welcome to Dunkin' Donuts. Could I take your order?"

Pam: "I would like (whatever she ordered)."

DD: "That will be (however much it was), please pull forward."

Pam sits anxiously in the car hoping to get the best breakfast ever. She counts and recounts her money over and over. She is sure this could be the beginning of the best day of her life! Mmmm! Only a few more moments until the delicious breakfast arrives in her area of scent! Oh the joy!

After a short wait, Pam pulls to the window, pays her money and reaches out for breakfast.

DD: "Uh...Ma'am, could you please pull forward and we will bring your food out to you?"

Pam thinks fast.

Pam: "No. No, Sir, I can't. I'll wait right here for my order."

DD: turning to the manager in the back "She said she wouldn't pull forward!"

Pam waits for a very brief time and her order makes its way into the car.

The End



Pam is one of my new heros! I can't wait to try this out!

Nighttime Necessities

I have decided that there are just some things that I cannot live without at night. These things I call my nighttime necessities. Here is my short list:

A featherbed
A down comforter
600 thread-count (at least) sheets
Soft pillows
Cool temperature in the room
Complete darkness
The hum of a ceiling fan

Without these, there is no reason to sleep.

A dear friend once told me that home is where your bed is. I'm glad my bed is identical to the one described above. For that reason, I love to go to bed and I'm headed there now!

Sweet Dreams!!!!!!!