Ever trace your roots or research from where you came? I heard stories and tales, and my curiosity ebbs and flows about my ancestry. Like many, I am an American mutt…the land of the melting pot runs through my veins. My features are fairly non-descript, nothing points me to one typical line.

For a long time, I believed myself to be mostly of Irish and English descent. But I was born with slightly olive skin, eyes of coal and a midnight mane to match.

As a child, I easily tanned with freckles, but rarely a burn, but unexposed skin turned paler than pale. As an adult, my Anglo Saxon traits took over and now sun block is a must.

My mother couldn’t deny me, our faces are strikingly similar, but I didn’t get her hazel eyes, blond hair, or amazing metabolism! So, I often wondered where did the rest come from.

In his youth, my birth father was asked if he knew how to speak English when he went for his driver’s license. Imagine their surprise when that southern twang came out of his mouth, along with the raised eyebrows. His hair, dark and slicked back, and his skin darkly tanned from working in Grandpa’s garden confused many people up north.

I started tracing what I could find. I’m not ready to do the DNA thing, but still, I am curious. As I worked up and down the eastern US records online, tracing births and deaths, so many of the later generations were less than 100 miles apart, but finally, the lines started to move.

One line faded into rumors of Native American blood but no one had proof…a woman married into the family, but no one could trace her parents. The last name however is connected to French and Germanic lineages.

Finally, a few lines officially took off to Europe. Soon, in addition to English and Irish lines, Welsh, Scotch, and Germanic lines came into view. At last count, I had traced one line to thirteen generations!

I couldn’t believe my luck! One day I need to organize my findings into something more concrete and dig a little deeper. Maybe it will even stir up some exciting stories and tales!

Warm waves rolled ashore. Toes and feet sink into the sand. Facing into the wind, her linen dress flutters behind against tanned legs.

She yells out his name to the gods, to the birds, to the sea, to anything that would hear her plea. Her hands wrap around her waist and she collapses to her knees. A broken heart releases some of its pain as her cry dissipates to the sky.

She would gladly let the sea swallow her whole, but knows she can’t give in to her despair. Her face is salty from the sea and tears. The sand, usually powdery soft, is rough on her shins. Shards of shells cut into her knees as her body continue to sink into the quicksand like shore.

Finally her tears cease and she recovers. As more waves come in, the frees herself and finally stands. She brushes the water from her hands, then wipes away her sadness.

The sun finishes rising as she reminds herself, today is just another day. She survived the past, now it’s time to face the future.

Thwap. Crackle. A peal of thunder, then a boom. Lights flicker and the house goes dark.

Pounding on the roof grows louder as the storm rolls in. Scurrying little creatures slink along the floor, tails pouffed out full. A bawl echoes as the boy cries out.

I pull up the throw and soon both my babes curl in close. No room for even air between them and me. They shiver at first, but finally calm and break into purrs.

The air in the house is cool tonight and my socked covered toes remain chilled. Humidity is a double edged sword…curly hair when hot and frigid digits when cold.

At least the phone has charge and connected. I scroll through WordPress, looking over a few conversations and posts, then off to Pinterest. It boggles my mind how it selects some pins for my feed…I never looked or spoke of certain topics, although it’s in the back of my mind. Surely Pinterest isn’t that clairvoyant?

Finally the lights return and the internet connection is restored. My mate decided to find something for us to watch.

The storm quiets and my little ones once more feel safe to wander. I rest my head as scenes play out on the tv. Tomorrow is another day, and we’ll have another round of storms. Such is summer in Florida.

The whoosh of air plays with my hair as I drive with the windows down. It’s a Floridia winter day, when the skies are blue, dotted with white pillowy clouds. All I feel is freedom on days like this. I don’t feel tied to anyone, not weighed down by obligations or work. Saturdays are phenomenal!

I weave my free hand through the jet stream as the back roads of strawberry central rumble underneath my car. Rows upon rows of green mounds, dotted with white flowers and red berries, surround me all around. The light odor of berries and onions floats on easy winds.

Spying a U-Pick sign, I stop. I can’t resist. The assistant hands me a box lid and I make my way to a nearby row. The sandy soil dirties my sneakers, but I don’t care. I kneel down at a plant full of juicy, plump fruits and gently pinch the vines, picking the shiniest specimens.

As I walk the aisle, birds chirp and dance among the plants, sneaking a berry here and there. One such beauty balances on a fence and sings a beautiful song before taking flight again. I pause to watch all of them flit, swoop, and dance in the sky, then turn back to the field.

Soon, I find myself balancing a heavy box lid full of amazing berries. Their aroma is tempting, but I know I really should wait to wash them off. However, I can’t resist….just one! The juice explodes and dribbles onto my chin. I look around, however no one sees the mess. However, a tell-tale pinky-red stain on my shirt tells the whole story. I rub the juice off my chin and head back to the start of the row.

Other cars pull in and start picking as I make my way back. The field is no longer my own. The silence gives way to giggling children and smiling adults. I smile and wave hello as the assistant weighs my haul. I hand over the money, slide the berries safely into the trunk, and jump back in my car.

The ride home is restful. My legs, a little weary from bending, relax as my feet push the pedals. Luckily, home isn’t too far away.

I start to plan my list of what to do with my bounty. Some will be for breakfast in the morning, atop homemade crepes. I’ll keep some for snacking; who doesn’t love strawberries with a little sugar and whipped cream for dessert? Most however will turn into scrumptious strawberry preserves tomorrow…jars and jars of preserves. Some will be my private stock; others will be Christmas gifts if I decide to share.

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Inspired by my single days driving through the strawberry fields. I still enjoy driving through the fields to this day and get excited every winter when strawberry season rolls back around.

Years from now…

She looked at the clock anxiously. She slipped into the crimson dress she had designed for herself. The deep vee and the a-line skirt fit her perfectly. It was a splurge, but perfect for this occasion.

Silver dangles floated from her ears, while a lone pendant rested in her cleavage. She applied a finishing swipe of lipstick on her lips, kissed a tissue, then looked into her full-length mirror.

Turning sideways, she sighed, but then smiled. She’d worked hard to get here, so at least it was improved. She lengthened her height by raising her heels from the floor. Yes, the black pumps…she thought to herself. I will kick myself later, but still… Then she slipped a pair of flats into her purse, just in case.

She flipped off the bathroom lights as she walked out to the bedroom. A pair of kittenish eyes looked up at her and chirped from the bed. Softly, she ran her fingers across his furrowed brow.

“I’ll be back later. Go find your sister.”

He rolled on his back, begging for belly rubs. She couldn’t deny him; he was just too cute at times. Finally he rolled back on his side and settled in for a nap.

She made her way through the house, locked up, then headed to her car. The chimes in the car lit up as the engine turned over. Eighties music filled the cabin. Her license plate captured her life…wonder when…

She looked at her dark eyes in the rear view mirror. Suddenly, butterflies filled her stomach. Seeing him after all these years, after fulfilling their own obligations, filled her with both excitement and fear.

The weather was beautiful and her drive was eventless. Traffic lights all turned green as she neared her destination. Her path was clear, almost hurrying her along to their meet up.

Was there some sort of cosmic force at play? She mused to herself. After decades, this would be the first time they’d be face to face.

She pulled into a spot next to the restaurant. The sunset shone brightly before her. She slipped out of the car and raised her hand. A familiar silhouette stood before her on the stairs. He waved.

A giddy smile came over her face as her fears disappeared. When was now.

Her fingers trembled as her eyes tired. Youth had long left these bones, but her mind refused to accept it. In front of the cozy fire, she pulled her quilt closer. She looked up from her crossword puzzle to the mantle place.

Photos of exotic places around the world hung on the wall. She smiled to herself as she reflected on memories though the years. She didn’t get the life she wanted, but she had a good life. She smiled a half-hearted smile.

A photo of a mother monkey with her child looked back at her. She remembered putting out sliced apples for them when she visited South Africa. The encounter with these wild and free creatures was amazing. They balanced with ease on the walled garden behind the condo where they had stayed. Cautiously, they would pick up the apples and enjoy them.

Her eyes floated to other photos on the wall. In Norway, she captured the rainbow from the Bifrost, the legendary bridge to Asgard. Okay, not really, but when the light hit a waterfall up in the fjord, a brilliant rainbow appeared. It was a magical moment during a peaceful time on a turbulent journey.

Several beaches and tropical destinations brought back wonderful memories of sand, sun, and good times. She looked forward to the next time her toes would get to once again touch powdery soft sand and her eyes would look out over the turquoise waters of home.

Another sand picture, the dunes in Colorado, makes her think about what she may have missed. She loved stepping off the plane every visit, but sadness still filled her heart, wondering what might have been.

Finally, her eyes settle on a wooden carved figure from a garden in Belfast. She breathed in a sigh; this photo haunted her at times. The figure’s vacant eyes often mimicked her own, especially when she was lost in thought.

She breaks from the moment and looks away. Enough thinking and reminiscing for now. Sleep beckons her to join him once more. Real life will be back soon enough and the days will be busy. New journeys also await her, or so she hopes. She rests her head on a pillow and drifts off to dream.

Flipping through patterns and styles.

Walking through aisles of fabrics.

Turquoise and blue, trying to find that shade,

Royal blue a nice complement.

Gathering the batting and threads

The binding and templates to boot.

I’ve never made one before,

So I hope this turns out.

Now to settle on a pattern,

Cutting everything apart,

Just to sew it back together again.

Maybe one day, when it is worn soft,

We’ll find our way to snuggle beneath it.

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Furry little ears twitching back and forth,

Cool little nose bopping my arm,

Prancing in a circle then cuddling in close,

Finally settling in and the purr box starts.

I think she missed me being home,

Or maybe she’s just a little scared of the storm.

Either way, she’s soothing under my arm.

Precious little girl, how did I get so lucky?

Brake lights and squealing tires,

I-4 comes to a standstill.

Looking in the mirror, hoping they stop

Whew, that was close!

Sirens and sirens from every direction.

A swarm weaves through the cars.

Descending upon then scene up ahead.

Creeping and jockeying for position

But crawling and gawking too.

A truck flipped over, chassis up,

Garbage bags and plastic bins

Strewn every which way.

But everyone looked okay.

The rest of the drive was easy

As traffic was slow to filter through.

Let’s hope tomorrow is uneventful

As I get to do it all over again!