Writer Jodi Moore (writerjodimoore) wrote,
Writer Jodi Moore

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Tap. Tap. Tap. Hello? Tap. Tap. Is this thing on...?  *clears throat*

Hi. I'm Jodi and I write for children (When A Dragon Moves In, Flashlight Press, Spring 2011) and young adults. I'm new to these parts. New to this community. New to this whole blogging thing.

I'm so excited to be here. It's taken me some time to get to this point, to work up the nerve to set up shop. You see, I've been writing for many years now, but this is my first official blog.

Oy. The pressure.

Should I try to be witty? Talk about what I write? Share my conference experiences? After all, I want to be a positive, contributing member of this community. I want to be a good neighbor.

So, with that in mind, I've decided to share a recent experience - and epiphany (love that word!) - that speaks volumes about, well, the way "me" thinks.


A lawn care professional came to our door the other day. With a not-so-subtle look of disdain at our yard, he shoved a brochure into my hand and said, "We can fix this."

I glanced at the neighbors' yards. On both sides. Across the street. All of them rich, lush, green. Impeccably trimmed, without one weed.

Martha Stewart perfect.

Our lawn is, well, not so perfect. It is dotted with weeds. Spotted with dandelions.  I took his pamphlet and slunk back into the house. The shame of it all. For a moment or two, I felt guilty. I even agonized. How could I have let our lawn go like this?

Then I remembered exactly how our lawn got this way.

What seems like only days ago (but is, in fact, years) two sweet little boys liked to pick "the pretty yellow flowers" for their mommy. And when those dandelions turned to white puffs, this mommy taught them how to make a wish and blow them into the wind so that their wishes would come true.

They shared this passion with their friends. Sometimes, there would be a blizzard of wishes in our yard.

Our boys are both in college now, as are most of their friends. I look at those pretty yellow flowers and I see little sprouts of precious memories. Each one representing a wish from the past. Wishes that I hope - for all of them - are coming true.

But if any of those kids should need them, those dandelions that cradle wishes for the future, they're still here. In our yard.

I shredded the brochure. 'Cause that's just how methinks.
Tags: flashlight press, methinks, when a dragon moves in, writer
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