Until recently... notebooks discovered among the boxes in the attic of my childhood home in York, PA.  Letters, poetry, and songs, handwritten and dated summer of 1985.

A child of the 70’s, a generation preceding cable TV and the Internet, I was blissfully unaware and naïve in the best of ways. I walked summertime meadows snipping wildflowers to fill the kettle on the cold woodstove. I sang to the minnows while fishing and danced from the chicken coop to the concrete bridge spanning the creek. I played marathon games of Monopoly with my siblings and took leisurely bike rides to nowhere.

A family of many talented crafters, woodcarving, needlework, painting, sewing, crochet, I learned art in any form was to be seen and celebrated.

I often created with words but never viewed my writings as anything more than enjoyable personal expression. I purged my teenage angst riding the highs and lows on the tip of a ballpoint pen. I developed a keen sense of humor and learned early to find levity in every situation because, frankly, life’s too hard not to laugh.

Life led me to cosmetology school. My hairstyling profession developed into salon ownership and entertaining behind the chair in my York, Pa., salon became part of my signature service.

Storytelling to a captive audience for over 25 years. My clients have become cherished friends. We’ve grown up together, marriages, births, loss, careers, job changes, new homes. I’ve held wriggling newborns and later attended their commencements ceremonies.

Along the way, I became a reader but never considered writing until my brother said, “You should write.” He’s wise — and older than me — so the transition from telling to writing began.