This post I wrote mainly for me, just to capture how I feel about my great-grandmother's house (Nanny), and the memories I've made here.

I wish I could hold onto this forever. Sitting at my great-grandmother's house. She is 97. I hate to think how many years I have left, sitting in her living room, passing the day drawing, writing, reading, or simply watching TV.

I hate to think how many years I have left to explore her house, to go in the back bedroom and admire my great-grandfather's WWII uniform, to snoop in the drawers and find the ancestry book he wrote. How many times I will stop to admire his picture and Bronze star on the wall. How many times I will make her remember her youth when I play Big Band records in the living room, and sit on her brown couch reading the "Anglo-Saxon Chronicles" that my great-grandpa bought in England.

I wish this place could last forever. I sit in her living room now, as the morning light pours through the drawn, white lace curtains above the record player on the shelf with fake drawers, and sliders on top that open to a broken 30's record player, and piles of

records and CDs. The purple chair and purple rectangle blanket sit to its left, in front of the tall shelf that I always forget about, with plants on top, boxes on the top shelf, and books I've never read in the middle. I see the Holy Bible there now. Although I cannot see it from my favorite seat by Nanny, I know the NASA book and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles are on the bottom. Someday I'll finish reading that English book. The brown blanket rests on the brown couch. This is a new couch. I remembered saying goodbye to the old one, that I sat on for years in this very spot. But you know, it's just a couch, and it was falling apart. This couch is much better. I thought maybe i could make a deep point out of this couch, but at the moment, no words are coming to figure that metaphor out.

In front of me is the table. The table my mom played on when she was little. My water in one of Nanny's small, pretty glass cups, on the coaster of the swan. That reminds me of the cups in Nanny's pantry. They have been the same as long as I can remember. When I was little, I always drank from the yellow cups. We all drank from the yellow cups, I guess because they were plastic, and wouldn't break. I used to drink milk from those cups, until one day I got tired of it, and I drank 3 cups of water. I have drunk water ever since. No soda, no juices or sprite, just water. On the desk also sits a small gray jewelry box with flowers. I don't think there's anything in there. In the middle of the table is the glass- I don't know what to call it -filled with thick, red and white mints and butterscotch, for when Nanny gets a "tickle in her throat", although she'd have a better time reaching them if they were closer.

I sit on my favorite place on the couch. I could spend all day at my grandparents at their house next door, but I choose to be here. To my right is Nanny's brown table, beside her chair. On the bottom shelf is all of Nanny's coloring books. A few years ago someone bought her an adult coloring book. She liked it, and that is all everyone got her for years. She still colors them from time to time. I remember when we had coloring competitions when I was little. There were two identical Hello Kitty coloring books in the drawer (of another table I'll get to later). When I was young and she was ten years younger too, we had competitions. We found an identical page, and took some time to color. I always declared myself the winner, because my coloring was vibrant, and hers was light. She cleaned out that drawer, and all the coloring books inside, but she left those two Hello Kitty books.

On the table beside me is the phone. Yes, a home phone. Not one that is sideways and has a circle for speaking and one for listening, but a rectangle phone sitting upright on a charger. When it rings, they all ring. There is one in the kitchen, one in the computer room, and maybe one in the bedroom. I have eavesdropped more than once. All I had to do was press the answer button on one of the other phones, and I could listen in. Usually I did this when my mom called. I usually got caught.

On the table is also a pencil sharpener, for those colored pencils on the bottom platform of the table. I empty it out sometimes. Now that I'm thinking about it, I might go ahead and empty it out today.

Beside the table is Nanny's chair. The chair has changed a few times. Right now she has a light brown chair with an electric button that moves it up and down. This is where she sits. This is her chair. She uses Facebook and emojis better than me, and drinks coffee every morning. She leaves the news on most of the time, but she likes game shows and the Andy Griffith show when I remind her they're on. Her life is amazing and historical. She married at 16 before her husband went to war (I got to read all of his letters to her during the war once), was a secretary while the men were in the war, had 3 children during the baby boom, was in the newspaper a few times, and her husband became an engineer who worked on the moon mission.

Across from her chair (to the right), is the brown recliner. My grandfather likes to sit there when he checks in in the morning sometimes. My mom also likes that chair when she comes. It is my second choice when I can't sit here. I'm sure I've hit the wall with the back of the chair multiple times. I've hid behind it and been found easily during hide and seek with my cousins as a child.

Beside the chair is yet another table (I never realized how many tables were in here until I started writing). There is another glass container (no lid) with mints. There is another lamp, white with gold decoration.

Beside this table is another- actually, its more of a desk. In front of it is a chair with a blue cushion that is tied to the rods in the back of the chair. This is the "there's nowhere else to sit" chair. the room for working on the desk is narrow, unless you pull out the (words are hard) little things on each side beneath it to rest it on. Also in this area is the drawer, which used to be filled with a chaotic assortment of coloring books and markers. I think its mostly empty now, beside the hello kitty books and a few other things. Above the actual desk there are four drawers on the left, four on the right, and two doors that open up in the middle. These are filled with a variety of things, from sticky notes and pens to pins from when Nanny was a volunteer. I liked exploring these drawers, to see if I can find anything new. On top of the drawers is a small lamp that is giving off a warm, yellow light. There is also a little black clock that has been there forever. I look at it and think "Wow, it's one already?" or "It's five, I should probably leave soon". Above all of this is a framed picture of a flower. I realize now that I haven't paid much attention to it, maybe I'll look at it later. To the left of all of this is a light switch with two light switches that turn on the fan on the ceiling and the light by the front door. These are usually off.

I sit across from the TV. It rests on top of a um, another set of drawers?. What used to be the TV box I believe, and it still keeps good time, only two minutes off, sits behind two glass panes that I took some time figuring out how to open when I was young. There is also a VCR and CD player on the shelf beneath it. A white remote sits on top of the player. Two the left and right are brown doors. There are VCRs and CDs in there. When we were little, we watched some kids show where they sang "jeepers creepers", "purple people eater", and a bunch of other things. Between the TV and the shelf thing below the white lace curtains is a yellow candle sitting in a column. I'm not sure what it's for, now that I think of it, and I don't think we've ever used the candle. On the other side of the tv is a big green plant. I also don't know why it's there. Here, the room branches out a little. There is the front door, which we never use unless I go to get the mail. Beside the door is a golden can with a black umbrella sitting in it with red polka dots. My favorite part of this "room" is the glass case, filled with little bells. We were always told to be careful. I'm surprised we never broke anything. I also enjoyed hiding on the side of the case by the wall while playing hide and seek.

There is so much else I could talk about in this house. The backdoor which leads to the lovely porch, the cookbooks in the shelf in the kitchen (one from 1942 that I got to take home) and the wind chimes behind the blinds that I "accidentally" knock just to hear their sound. There is the kitchen as a whole,and the corridor that leads to the garage door. There's the dining room that is in the same room as the living room, with a glass case with fancy silverware and plates inside, and cards in the drawers below, among other things. The table behind Nanny's chair (that I've never looked in, surprisingly), with the mirror above it. There is the white closet in the hall filled with photo albums, perhaps letters, and other things. It was the best hiding spot, if you could fit in it, but usually the seeker looked there first. There is Nanny's bedroom with the bed we used to jump on, and the beautiful bathroom with two sinks, so many light switches to turn on, a bath, a shower, and a nice walk in closet that was the most popular hiding space during hide and seek. There is the "computer bedroom" with what was normal to me as a kid and I'm now realizing is a bit old. I used to play purple place on it. If you've never heard of it, that's because now it's over a decade old. It is one of those box computers where you have to turn on the big power button below the desk. It was always satisfying to figure out how to turn in on when the monitor didn't work, and you knew you needed to light up that big button below. There's also the last bedroom, with the desk with the mirror and nothing in the drawers, the desk of drawers with the book my great-grandfather wrote, and his uniform in the closet and Nanny's 1950s dress.

I didn't get to come here last year. You'd think I wouldn't think twice and wouldn't look back at my grandparents house when the reason I missed coming here was to go to Disney for the first time for a school trip, but I love it here, and coming here this spring break feels like coming back to old memories, even though I was just here during a stressful holiday season. This was much better, much like the good old days of staying here all week, just my sister and I at my grandparents house, doing nothing all day (usually I'm always going).

This. This is how I will capture it, in my voice here, now, in her living room, on a warm Alabama day.

It is funny though that I was writing my emotions, then ended up describing every little detail of the house. Still, I wish I could stay here forever. It's my favorite place. There are so many memories here. I want to bring my future husband here. I want to bring my future kids here so they can make memories while they can. I want them to play with the toys in the computer bedroom closet, that all grand kids, great-nieces and great-nephews have played with. I want them to struggle to put the bus back together when it falls apart, annoy everyone with the siren above the fire station, and argue over who gets which little character in the little town. Words can't express how happy I am to be here, and how much I have to say, and how long I could keep writing (if I haven't written enough already). For years I've wondered if I'd be back again, and here I am. Still I have hope I can come back next summer. Maybe I'll bring my boyfriend of four years with me, to show him the rocketship nearby, and the museum.

"I have something to tell you, and you won't like it."

The grandma hobbled into the throne room, looking like she belonged there, her cane patting against the tall grass. Birds flew overhead, and the sunlight tossed sunbeams across the king's kindly, wrinkled face and golden crown.

"What is your message, my lady?" The king asked.

The old woman bowed and pulled out her parchment. "My message is this: your kingdom Eldoria and the kingdom Rivenstone have been at odds too long. Here is the command..."

The princess burst into the room, her head adorned with white lilies to match her dress white with innocence. Her dark skin made the white dress like the brightest star in the night.

"Give us a moment, Zelia."

Zelia bowed. "Of course, but may I stay?"

The king looked at the old woman. "My message is not secret," she said.

"Continue your message, dear lady."

"Here is the command: the two must come together in peace, or they shall be destroyed in discord."

"Is there any explanation you can offer us, or any presentation you are waiting to give?"

The old woman bowed and presented her basket to the gray-bearded king. The petals were black. "Here is a signet, your majesty."

She pulled the silver signet from her olive petticoat pocket. It was shaped like a dagger.

The king looked at the signet, at his daughter Zelia, then at the old woman. "I cannot do this."

"But you must."

The world is full of writers writing about how to write, but are they right? (see what I did there?). I've read my share of terrible writing books, so I'll spare you those and give you the best ones I've found so far in my journey.

Here I will give you two highly recommended books about writing:

On Writing by Steven King, and The Elements of Style by Strunk and White

The Elements of Style by Strunk and White

In the introduction to On Writing, Steven King says, "One notable exception to the b*** rule is The Elements of Style, by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White. There is little or no detectable [crap] in that book. (Of course, its short; at eighty-five pages it's much shorter than this one.) I'll tell you right now that every aspiring writer should read The Elements of Style. Rule 17 in the chapter titled Principles of Composition is "Omit needless words." I will try to do that here."

Succinct, short, cheap (I found it for a few dollars at a bookstore), accessible, relevant, and highly recommended.

It teaches grammar, structure, how to look for redundancy and unnecessary words, how to get ideas across, how to craft paragraphs, and more.

It is a no-nonsense, no-fluff guide to the keys of writing well.

On Writing by Steven King

This was first recommended to me by an editor, publisher, and author friend of mine a few years ago. It is part autobiography, part writing advice. It has interesting stories and is recommended by professionals everywhere (it is Stephen King after all).

"If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There's no way around these two things that I am aware of, no shortcut. (139)" - On Writing by Stephen King

"If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that (142)." - On Writing by Stephen King

As I discover more quality writing books, I will share them :)

Also, let me know if you want to see more content about writing well.

Eschew surplusage. - Mark Twain

Eliminate unnecessary words. There's no better way to say it.

The full Twain quote:

"The author should:

Say what he is proposing to say, not merely come near it.

Use the right word, not its second cousin.

Eschew surplusage.

Not omit necessary details.

Avoid slovenliness of form.

Use good grammar.

Employ a simple, straightforward style."

I figured I should post a writing tip, as promised. I will organize the lessons later on.

I wrote this for the fun of it and thought some of you might like it :)

Let's call this chapter 1

“I have something to tell you, but you won’t like it.”

A grandma hobbled into the throne room. She looked like a gardener grandma; flowered bonnet, long gray skirt, green petticoat. Her cane thumped the marble ground, the only sound but breathing in that hollow stone hall.

“Did you request entry?” The queen asked. She waved her hand in the dripping silvery dress, sparkling like moondust in the darkest night. Her pointed nose did not like the faint grassy stench of the old woman.

“How else would I get in?”

“What is your message. Be quick.”

“Quick?” The old woman leaned on her stick and chuckled. “Do you have somewhere to be? Are you late to you late to your date with the poor and sick? Is your husband dying of the plague?”

“Beware, old woman, your head is on the line,” Aelric, the prince, sat beside his mother in the same moondust black.

“Of course,” the old woman replied.

“Then give us your message, woman,” Aelric said.

“I prophesy from time to time, as your father would know, dear Aelric, though it seems others have forgotten,” she glared at the queen, “and in the past my inferences have been favorable. But now I have one sentence for you-”

“My, you are a slow one.” The queen’s eyes flickered.

“Slower with your interruptions.”

The queen stood up. “One more sarcastic comment and you shall never deliver your message, nor any message again.”

“I mean no ill will, your highness. My message is this:” the old woman pulled a crumpled half-sheet of parchment from her petal-filled basket and cleared her throat. “Hear, o king, what I will say. Your kingdom Rivenstone has been too long at odds with Eldoria. Here is the command…”

The queen rolled her eyes.

“...The two must come together in peace, or they shall be destroyed in discord.”

“How will you prove this?”

“Have I ever been wrong?” The grandma dumped her basket of white petals on the floor and left. Aelric wondered why the queen did not incarcerate her for her impudent words.

“What will you do, my queen?” Aelric asked his mother.

“Nothing.” The queen rose.

“But she said we’ll be destroyed.”

“She is a loon.”

“Yes, my queen,”

The queen left the throne room, the thin train of her black dress looking gray and twinkling. But Aelric stayed behind. Afraid to touch the petals in case of some poison or trickery, he looked on from his seat. “Guard, what is that gold piece there? And give me the parchment.”

The guard gave the parchment to the black-haired prince and handed him a golden leaf. Aelric looked at the golden signet, thin as a real leaf but undoubtedly real gold. The gold felt green. It wasn’t green; it felt green. Aelrich tucked it in the pocket of his black coat.

Five not-so-bright Englishmen stand on a hill talking to the Nazis (who the Englishmen think are British)

The general huffed. “I zaid, do you zink we are British?”

“I mean, who else could you be?”

“We are ZE Nazis,” he spit.

“If you’re not zees, then what are you?” Tommy asked.

The General looked at his captain, who looked at him, who looked back at Tommy.

“What?”

“What are you if you’re not Z’s?”

“WE ARE ZE GERMANS.”

“Ohh, you're... our enemies?”

“Zyes.”

“Eh, at least you’re not French.”

A fedora wear’n adventure lov’n lady wand’rin free.

She rides about through cities and towns

Looking for you and me.

She rides up hills and right through dales,

Whenever she sees someone she hails.

The world is large and full of glee,

She is whatever she wants to be.

A fedora wear’n adventure lov’n lady wand’rin free.

Her cowboy hat in Mexico turns quickly to a sombrero,

It’s where she wants to be.

Turnin' round and round and round again,

A sheriff for you and me,

A singer on a darkened stage,

She loves to laugh and shout and play,

A Ballerina for a day,

When all see her they shout, “Hurray!

Let’s see it again. Don’t go away!”

Round and round and round again,

A spaceship full of light.

She leaps around a String of Pearls,

And sings to In the Heights

Whirlin’ swirlin’ twirlin’,

Again and with a grin.

She’s come to meet so many friends,

They’ll be with her until the end,

And on them all she will depend,

And you can bet she will extend

Her friendship down to thee,

That fedora wear’n adventure lov’n lady wandrin’ free.

She’ll tell you oh so many things,

Until your ears begin to ring;

She’s passionate for the little things,

All seasons to her are like the Spring,

That fedora wear’n adventure lov’n lady wandrin’ free.

Her desire is for you to come along

To bring you near,

Show what is dear,

To paint a picture,

And make it clear.

She wants you to know,

She wants you to see,

The whole wide world,

“just for you and we”.

That fedora wear’n adventure lov’n lady wandrin’ free.

Leap up little one!

Leap up old one!

To gallop on her horse.

Ride through sunset,

Go far beyond,

Till all you know is long far gone.

Come see her world beyond the sky,

As far as your imagination will fly.

That fedora wear’n adventure lov’n lady wand’rin free

Your cowboy hat in Mexico turns quickly to a sombrero,

If that’s where you want to be.

The Fedora Wearin' Adventure Lovin' Lady Wandrin' Free represents the limitless possibilities and beauty of imagination. She rides around through cities and towns looking to share her adventures with you and me, that Fedora Wearin' Adventure Lovin' Lady Wandrin' free. Thanks for reading!