Today, while sorting family photos, I came across this picture. All I know about it is that my grandfather, Wilson Reeder, gave it my father, Harold Reeder. On the back of the photo, all that was written was my dad’s name. I know the picture was taken in Michigan, and I do know my family lived in Plymouth, but I am not sure where the photo was taken. Continue reading “Reeder Family Home”
According to my mama, I was supposed to be a June baby with a due date somewhere between the 25th through the 30th. But since I was destined to be a stubborn one, I decided to wait and then wait some more. As the month of June crept by and as July opened its doors, my grandmother, Elva Bryant Allen, and my father began teasing one another that I would be born on their prospective birthdays: my father’s birthday was the eighth while my grandmother’s was the tenth. My mother, being equally stubborn, decided that I would be born on the fourth, so that I would be an Independence Day baby. And just like that, I was born on July 4, 1961 at Ft Lewis, Seattle, Washington. Since I was an army brat, my mom only had to pay for her meals. This little firecracker cost a measly $7.50. As a child when I was told that I was their cheapest baby, I cried! Continue reading “Birthday Celebrations”
Words. I love words. I love reading words. I love writing words. Words make my heart beat faster.
By the time I turned four, my momma gave me a magical gift that literally changed my world; she taught me how to read. It all began with sight words and treasure hunts, and I can still remember running around our large Victorian home while frantically searching for the day’s treasure. Sweet notes read, “Go the lamp,” with a picture momma drew of a lamp. Next note, “Go to the….well..my treasure hunt adventure would continue until I found the note that sent me straight to my cherished gem. Some days I would discover a new set of fancy barrettes. Some days, I would find a sweet treat. Fun ways to learn words and their meanings. Continue reading “What’s the Word?”