- Linda Hesthag Ellwein
- Brooklyn, NY
- United States
Communications, Change, and Photography, Oikonomia, Inc.
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Do you have a story waiting to be told? Bring your inner storyteller and tell us a tale.
Stories weave themselves together over time and magically become the gloriously rich tale of a full life. Telling them brings the most mundane tasks or simple memories alive, reminding us how colorful and vibrant living actually is. Best of all, it allows us to see another layer of each other.
Will you tell us one? It can be random, made up, from childhood, someone else's, about your kids, a moment with your grandmother, lost love, a quirky or funny moment, poetry, a chance meeting, something that hurts...anything at all. Perhaps you wrote a story in your mind about someone you saw on your way to work, or it's the dream you had last night. Maybe it's found in a picture you recently took. It can be 10 words, 200 or haiku. We all have a story waiting to be told :)
I shared one, now it's your turn. Give it your best shot!
(If its long, just add another post in reply to continue.)
vic johnson
The hull is chipped and slivered.
The rudder's almost gone.
The sail is worn and ragged,
There's no mast to hoist it on
It didn't really matter
that it didn't float quite right.
While it’s laying on my pillow
in the dark of night.
It is shaped a little funny.
It didn't steer quite straight.
It isn't real fancy,
it was made for hauling freight
Take all the bright and shiny toys,
the kind you buy in stores.
Just let me keep my wooden boat;
it hasn't any oars.
We took a load of gold aboard,
from each pirate ship we sank.
We saved the maidens from their fate,
the black hearts walked the plank.
Adventure came on every tack
and many a storm we rode,
and beat the tides and every shoal,
'til we anchored to unload.
It 's only just four inches long,
but sturdy as can be.
It served me well and served me long
on every seven sea.
I hope that where my daddy is,
there's a block of wood around
and oil to keep his jack knife sharp
And a stone to hone it on.
I hope there is a little boy
who's watching happily.
'cause Dad was always at his best
when making things for me.
I hold it now that I am grown,
I hold it tenderly,
I hold it dear, this little boat,
my daddy carved for me.
By
Vic Johnson
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+
Clearly, this one is from deep within your heart.
Btw, there's a man here in Idaho who passed recently, by the name of Vic Johnson. He's a legend in these parts. :) One of the original cowboys...
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+
lynn eschbach 30+
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+
James van der Walt
James van der Walt
James van der Walt
http://www.ugesigold.co.za/overview/my-story
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+
This image, from a life long gone, resides in memories that once defined me and visit when I’m out at 2 am in howling wind and 20 below zero checking calves. Usually, I haven’t seen a human in days.
My new reality is a desperately in-need-of-repair log cabin, an old oak table, dogs strewn across the floor, a blazing fire in a decades-old wood stove to keep me warm, leather chaps hang haphazardly on a nail patiently awaiting their next ride. On a busy January night, you might find a just born, half frozen calf defrosting by the stove as I massage it to keep it alive. The old oak table is covered with cameras, cattle tags, tools, battery chargers, lenses, mail, and hot sauce for a dab of color. It’s not the life I imagined but it’s the life I live.
Did I mention the hundreds of acres surrounding me with no soul in sight? Idaho’s highest peaks looming large outside my door. The moose returning in spring to birth babies and raise their yearlings. The howl of coyotes waking me at dawn. The wild turkeys that know I’ve no intention of eating them for dinner. The lessons learned from locals standing by my side. Their mastered intimacy with this land, handed down through generations, is the best gift. That’s only the beginning of a life I never imagined. The challenges of living interdependently with the land came unexpectedly, and turned my belief systems upside down. I thought I knew it all in New York City - but it took no time at all to learn I didn’t know a thing.
James van der Walt
Thank you for sharing.
richard moody jr 10+
This, however, led to almost all of us dying on the farm.
My dad almost asphixiated himself from carbon monoxide poisoning digging our well with a gasoline spade.
My mom almost electrocuted herself painting an electrical outlet connected to the house.
My brother had his head caved in when a horse stepped on his head. He was also hit by a "widow-maker" squarely in the head when cutting wood; it knocked him out cold
When I was floating on a raft in the middle of our pond I fell in with green rubber boots that acted like gills pulling me under. My siblings thought i was going under for the third time when actually I was gulping for air and untying my boots underwater. I got one off and then my dad jumped into the water to save me. He also had on green rubber boots (!) and had to push off the bottom to force me to shore.
Now for the "spooky" part. Shortly before I fell in my dad, who was sleeping on the couch, had a terrible nightmare that one of us was drowing. He woke up from a sound sleep and began washing the car; shortly there after I fell into the pond.
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+
Life on a farm is so dangerous! It struck me when I moved out west. I recall telling nyc friends how safe the city is. In rural life people were hurt constantly in horse accidents, husbands running their wives over with tractors, rattlesnake bites. It was endless. It just wasn't called crime. ;) Great story, Richard!
vic johnson
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+
James van der Walt
Good luck though. :)
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+
I posted this question on my Facebook page; there were wonderful posts ranging from old cowboys and poems of passion to surviving cancer and silly rhymes within an hour. I think this is a valid venue for storytelling...to share sides of ourselves we may not otherwise have the opportunity to see. Or hear. :)
James van der Walt
Linda Hesthag Ellwein 50+