Blog Challenge #1: 100 Things Challenge

So, I'm kinda late to this party but I figured it can't hurt to start it but not sure what to post about so I'm keeping my 100 things to various sundry and whatever strikes my fancy. I may post about movies, books, music, coffee, traditions, cultures, photos (could put my Pinterest account to good use then), quotes, fandom things or dog pictures. You just never know what you're going to get with me. I'm going to call it 100 Things Important To Me.

If you'd like to participate as well, click on the banner below to get started.




{Take the 100 Things challenge!}


My first post:

with baby sary


My grandmother, as some of you know, was (and continues to be) the most influential woman in my life. When I think of everything she endured and lived through in her lifetime (1922-2007) and the way she embraced being a human being, not just a GENDER, I'm humbled to be part of her legacy. I've started writing about her life and fictionalizing a few things I'm not 100% sure of especially since those who would have known about facets of her life are no longer living or were not around in her youth.

Here's one excerpt:
Sarita climbed the tree in record speed doing her best to avoid being seen by her older siblings as they walked home from school with a few of their friends. Being the youngest of four and still a child while the rest were teenagers was a blessing and a curse. She was either ignored by her siblings or a burden to them when their parents needed a "baby sitter" for the night. She wasn't a baby! She was almost double-digits and she already knew how to heat her own meals, patch up her torn pants, sew buttons on the blouses her Momma insisted she wear ever Sunday for church and she could climb trees all by herself. She didn't need a baby sitter!

Her brother Efrain stopped to light a cigarette right under the tree she'd hidden in and the smoke was starting to make her eyes water but she wasn't going to move from her perch. She needed to hear their conversation and she knew her brother would start talking to her sisters about it soon. She'd heard him tell them they would "talk about it after school" while she was still in bed that morning. The elementary school she went to had cancelled classes when the American Navy how close to the shore the building was and how easy it would be to turn it into a makeshift bunker while they waited for their orders. Sarita knew there was a war, it was all anyone ever talked about, but she didn't understand why it had started in the first place and she really didn't care. If it meant she could stay home and play with her friends on the street, she'd welcome any other wars people wanted to start.

"How many were called up in your class?" she heard Efrain ask their sister Hedda.

"Ten. All of the boys." Hedda was clutching her books really tight to her chest. Her long fingers wrapped around them so tight, Sarita could see the white knuckles.

"Cheo? Quique? Baldo?" Dalila, their sister, asked. Her voice, usually loud and gruff, was soft and almost a whisper. The last boy was one of Efrain's best friends and Sarita knew Hedda had liked him even if she always denied it.

They were silent for a moment then Sarita saw it, the yellow piece of paper in her big brother's hand as he handed it over to her sisters.

"Make that eleven."

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