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OH my Oprah

When Oprah was having her niece or grand or well, way back when she was celebrating a baby, people sent her gifts and she excepted them on T.V. and even praised such love.  Well like a dummy I sent her my book, I didn’t really expect T.V.  coverage and fame.  But thought it was pretty cute and figured maybe she’d read it or give it to the library and send it on its way, hopefully not throw it away.

  I was watching Oprah talking about a blanket sent to her and other things and then my hubby came in the house with the mail.  I got MY BOOK BACK!!!  Wow that I did not expect.  Maybe throw it away, give it away, hand it out free gift, but SEND IT BACK?  I was so sad and then a letter saying, Oprah does not receive gifts!  Ahhhhh she doesn’t? It was all staged?  Wow I sat there as she went through all her thank yous for gifts that have come in for the joy she is receiving from her fans.

The letter was signed by someone other than her, but stamped her name at the bottom,  so it didn’t pass inspection of her letter openers.  I never watched her again, I don’t think I was angry, but disappointed totally.  I had a hard time seeing compassion in her, I am sure she didn’t even know about it at all.  But I kept the letter and book together and put it in a drawer.  I am not sure why, I think she is a great lady, I just wasn’t good enough.  I hope I am understood correctly, I just felt that the show maybe wasn’t being on the up and up, but just me I suppose.

Not so long after a kid made me a clay figure of a dragon in class after I read Spiddle Spaddle Spuddle Spuff, he lov’d the story so much he made me a clay image of the dragon.  For some reason oprah came to mind and then I smiled at him.  I held onto it for years but the last time I went to look at it, it had just turned into powder. I always wondered if he remember making it.  Wish now I had taken a picture, something I will do forever more.  He was so proud of that little clay dragon and I was so proud to of been acknowledged with such a precious gift.

That is what we all want I guess, to have someone say, I love your work and keep it up.  That is a dream in itself and when someone does it I just fall in love with the idea I could do this for a living.  If I never do, I will cherish all the memories that have come my way, most of all, I will never give something back and say, 

Thank You!!!


But I have leaned with my reading issues I have finally found a way to read successfully. Holding a book with all the words in front of my eyes, just makes them bobble, but reading on my phone it puts just enough words on a sentence that I storm through books, where was my phone when I was young.  Take the world as a gift and always give back and take care. Sweet Green Grass Books!  🙂 


I would like to introduce Peggy Browning this week for Tasha Turner Coaching Virtual Blog Tour



First, let me express my sincere thanks to Dvora Swickle for hosting me on her blog this week for the Tasha Turner Coaching Virtual Blog Tour. Thank you, Tara! I appreciate your hard work and your generosity in sharing your blog!


 Our assignment was to write a Flash Fiction piece inspired by a picture. When I saw this picture, I knew I had to write about it. I write for women over age 50.  This is a picture of all my character desires: peace, love, joy. And isn’t that what we all desire, no matter what our age?


So here goes:


 I hesitated before opening the door and asked myself if I really wanted to do this.

 Oh, for Pete’s sake, I answered myself. Don’t be silly.

 You’re a grown woman. Go inside. It’s your birthday present to yourself, after all.

No one else knows you well enough to buy it for you.


No one. Not one person knew me that well, especially not Dave, my husband of 30 years.


The brass prayer bells jangled when I opened the door. It had been over 30 years since I’d last been in the local head shop. Of course, now the High Flyer had added the words “specialty store” to its sign on the wall outside to convince the police that it offered more than rolling papers and bongs.


Other than the name, not much had changed in the tidy little shop since the last time I’d visited. Funny…the last time I’d been in here I was shopping for a birthday present. I bought Dave a Pink Floyd poster for his 21st birthday.


Mellow incense wafted through the air. Hookahs were displayed on the walls behind gleaming glass counters filled with artsy looking glass pipes. Decorative swords and martial arts equipment hung neatly on the opposite wall behind the racks of tie-dyed tee shirts. Tarot cards and crystals occupied a long display case next to shelves filled with incense sticks and cones. Good marketing technique demanded that the teakwood burners were close by. Teas, cigars, and herbal remedies all had their place on the spotless shelves.


 A balding man sporting a long gray ponytail approached me when I stopped at the display of DVDs.  Embarrassed when I realized they were all rated XXX, I looked up and saw the bigger than life size dildos stored above the porn behind locked glass doors.


Well damn, I thought. Maybe some things had changed. I sure didn’t remember those from my last visit!


“Can I help you find something?” the old hippie asked.


I blushed.


“Uh…yes,” I said. “I want to buy a poster.”


“Anything special in mind?” he smiled.


“The one in the window,” I said. “I noticed it yesterday when I drove past here on my way to work.”


“It’s just the right thing to put over my desk,” I added.


“Hendrix? Yeah…that’s a great one,” he said.


“Um, no. The circle colored blue and purple and green,” I answered.


“Oh, that one!” he said. “It’s not a poster. It’s one of my originals…on canvas. Yeah. I like that one too.”


He walked over to the window, lifted the fabric backdrop and pulled the painted canvas out. He handed it to me.


My hand shook a little when I took it. Yes. This was just what I wanted. I didn’t know it until I saw it yesterday, but I had wanted this exact thing for a very long time. The circle was painted in swirly greens and blues and purples, yellows and browns on a background of pale gray. Encircling the design were the words peace, joy, intuition, love, gratitude, compassion.


These were all the things, the feelings, I wanted. I had them all once. And I wanted them back.


“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I’ll take it.”


The graying shopkeeper led me to the back counter where the cash register was located. While he wrapped the painting I listened to his partner, a man with a shaved, tattooed head and nose ring give instructions to another customer.


“So, you take this 48 hours before your physical. You can’t eat any fats or dairy products and you gotta drink at least two gallons of water after you take it…over that 48 hours,” the tattooed man explained. “Then you should be rid of all your “toxins” before you have to take your piss test.”


The customer nodded solemnly.


“That’s $81.19,” my helper said.


Oh, shoot. I hadn’t even asked the price.


“How much was the painting?” I asked.


“Seventy-five. With tax,” he said.


 I winced. I only had a twenty on me. Then I took Dave’s MasterCard from my purse and handed it to him. It seemed a small price to pay for everything I wanted.


“Thanks,” I said.


“It’s my birthday present to me,” I said. “I’m 50 today.”


“Well, happy birthday to you!” the shopkeeper smiled. “You don’t look a day over 49!”


I blushed again.



Back at home, I pulled the framed photograph of Dave and me from the wall above my desk and hung the painting in its place.


It was just a painting to remind me of all that I desired. I wanted to have it all again.


 It was just a painting, but it was a pretty good start.

Fun, Sun and Cracker Jacks!

I drove school bus for many years and I found two things to be true.  Kids love to learn, stories tend to do the trick for me.  I remember one girl not having any money for mothers day gift.  She said something to a friend and they said, “Just ask your Dad for money!”  She sat there looking at her friend and I could see in her eyes that that was not an option. She dropped her head down and starred at the floor to school. So I went home and wrote The Old Washing Machine.  In those days I would go to the schools and read stories to the children during my mid break from driving.  Most of the time I wrote stories to help someone figure something out. How to deal with an issue and be successful.  After I read the story in library time, the following week when all the kids boarded the bus she looked at me and said she had taken all her art supplies and made her mother a picture with bottle caps, pop cycle sticks, cotton, buttons and so forth.  She looked up at me with this smile that absolutely brought tears to my eyes.  She marched herself back to her seat and sat much taller that day and I knew with one simple story how much power I had with my pen and paper. My daughter had caught a bug on Friday for school on Monday and well the bug didn’t make it and she was so sad, had nothing for show and tell.  Well I wrote Bug in a Bottle for her, its good to catch them in a jar but for a short time, then you need to let them go so they can be home safe and sound. So catching the bug night before and letting it go after school is the ticket.  

I wrote stories for 10 years entertaining children but the one I remember the most was the story I wrote for a boy who shuddered.  I was not trained in this but knew how to express myself in the story Heckamor the Turtle, after I read the story he asked me for a copy. So I went home drew a few pictures and stapled it together and gave it to him.  Well after bus driving I became a para educator and in the school I was working this 6 foot gentlemen came up to me and asked me if I remembered him.  I was speechless and said, “I am so sorry, I do not, but usually I have to remind myself who I am.” We both smiled and he said, “You gave me a book in elementary school, Heckamor the Turtle.”  I was speechless, he didn’t studder and handsome man he turned out to be. He thanked me for the story and my eyes just teared up.  He said the book is sitting on his shelf all these years.  I am blown away at the idea I had such an impact and that is why I am now publishing them. If I can just do that to one child at a time, it is worth a life time of work.  Sometimes a child will not ask a question because they think it is dumb.  I was told that a million times when I was young, but I always believe any question is a good one not matter what others think.  Some kids just need to know more, with pictures, funny story, Mom being a Italian chef for tea days.  I won’t go there, but Moms and Dads have a big impact on there young’ins and I wish the world wasn’t so busy that one could stay home, but since that is not relevant, I will keep writing my short stories to give a little present in each one for each individual child. To touch one at a time for a better life is all I am aiming for and getting to read them aloud, my favorite things to do in the whole world.  Thank you for your viewing and I am blessed with a touch up from above to get a gift of myself to all the children in the world.


The Increditable Kim Mutch Emerson, “Welcome”




It’s a sad time in my life when I don’t have time to read. I feel lonely and out of place; depressed and abandoned by my dearest friend, the Book. As sad as it is, that is where I find myself right now. I hold a full time job that zaps my emotional energy during the summer months and I run a full time business promoting authors and their books. Between these two full time positions I am working furiously on a novel of my own, so the closest thing to reading a book for me right now would be flipping through the pages of my dictionary.


Oh come on, you have to admit that can be pretty darn exciting. Just flip one open and see where you land. Today I flipped to “offroad”. Now that can be an adventure waiting to happen. What if you were traveling through the dessert and went offroad into the barren wasteland. What heart stopping escapade could be right around the next sand dune?


The next page I randomly picked had the entry “William Frederick Cody”; otherwise known as Buffalo Bill Cody. I didn’t know his real name was William Frederick. I think he made a wise decision when he changed it. I mean, can you imagine the bullying that would have gone on? I can see the other rough and tumble type calling out, “hey William Frederick, hold it right there or you’re dead where you sit.”


And now see, the sparks of my imagination begin to fly! What if Buffalo Bill was up yander in the hills above the silver mines of Nevada? What if he knew there were trouble a foot and he had his pistol drawn waiting to save the day? What if the bad guys in black hats were chasing Calamity Jane through the dark and narrow pass?


I guess I am not depressed after all. The dictionary is my friend.



I would like to introduce Kim Mutch Emerson!


Author, KD Emerson was born (or is that hatched) several years ago. We won’t go into how long it has been because she has this fantasy that she is still a teenager off to conquer the world. She has a passion for the written word and assisting other writers in becoming the best they can be. She also loves to promote others and cheer them on to victory. Follow her on twitter @MstrKoda or you can find her at www.masterkoda.com and on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/kimmutch.emerson


Being a bus driver for 10 years and working as a vocational assistant I have seen bullying up front and close.  It is a hard subject to talk about because so many personalities are involved.  I have found that kids tend to take things to far on a school bus.  Everyone is cramped and one feeds off the other.  Ignoring kids sometimes is a good way to go about something but alot of the times words work best.  I am appalled at what they did to the bus monitor. But i have been in the same boat many times as a bus driver.  Some tend to think we are lower class, can’t get a job anywhere else and bottom of the barrel.  This is so far from the truth it is silly to think some think just that.  Drivers have to have there wits about them and be able to multitask and watch kids in a tiny mirror and control them along with watching traffic, turning corners, watching cross walks, dogs, cats and bats sometimes.  I began writing stories when I was a driver.  I would sit at home and write a story about something a child would be upset about. Or a story how to relate to someone else when you do not understand where they are and why they are doing the things they do. If that made sense, I hope.  I wrote Bug in a Bottle because a child brought bugs in a jar to school to show her friends at show and tell.  Well they didn’t make it, she kept them in there too long.   So I told her, its fun to catch them but you have to let them go so they can home to there families too.  I read the story to her class later on that week and she understood more what to do by a simple story.  I wrote a story about a boy who was teased and so he learned a way to put his sorrows and the kids on the street learned of his secret and changed the outcome.  Stories play a big part for kids.  I wrote them just to help a few, but as the years went by, I believe I have helped many children through a simple moral stories written from my heart to my children and to the children in the classrooms.  Fudnickle Brown was written because a child was so silly in class and clumsily.  When the kids laughed at him, he took it so hard and began to hate his classmates and began to act up. So  I wrote the story to show him, the kids were laughing with him, and just because your different doesn’t mean you can’t fit in.  In the case in the book, Fudnickle Brown just needed to be in the right school.  He went to the wrong school, he may not of fit in but the children learn to love him and accept him and were sad when he left. Even tho you are different you don’t have to think you are wrong or strange, qualities come in many different ways.  I hope someday my stories will hep kids in school be more a friend then a teaser.  I think we all just want to be lov’d even the bullies.  I found to be true one girl was so mean she created her issues.  Saying sorry was out of the question until I had a talk with her and said, “Are you afraid to say you are sorry for teasing.”  She said, “Yes, its doesn’t matter I already made the mistake.”  My heart fell and my tears welled up in my eyes and I just smiled at  her and said, “I feel where you are I have been there myself.”  I said saying your sorry doesn’t always seem as if anyone hears you or notices, but they do.  If you work enough on changing and tell people that you want to be different. Every morning when you wake up, alone in the bathroom look in the mirror and say out loud to yourself.  “Good morning, I love you and think your a great person. I am pretty!”  When I did it for the first time I felt uncomfortable but as it goes you will find you have three friends for life. Me Myself and I!  I loved driving bus, when a child would climb up onto my bus and say, “Good morning Bus Driver” or tell me something exciting that happend that weekend, my eyes just sprinkled.  Children are our gifts from god and we should do everything in our power to explain how to be kind, understand others, share love.  Well I am done, just a thought for the day.  ❤ life!

Watching and Learning

I stood in the grocery store today watching a little girl ask her mom questions about a book she was holding. I could not read the title but when she didn’t get her attention she began to tear it up a bit.  Mom then spoke scolding to her about the respect of books and how you should take care of them and she took the book away.  I stood there thinking along time about that.  It is amazing how you get so caught up in life and daily chores that paying attention is difficult and sometimes to the wrong things.  To me for the second to answer a question and look at the book smile and go on would of took less time than what did happen.  Sometimes I wish I could go back and do my child raising differently but we don’t see things till we have slow’d down and and learn to watch, maybe that is the granny stage, did I really say that.  But I wanted to go and read to her and let mom shop, it would of been wonderful. I am not saying she was wrong in anyway I was a mom too, but I did see how kids when they cannot get you on the upside they take you to the down side, hope I said that correctly.  My story about the bird and the duck, in The Duck That Didn’t Know, I really wanted to say, we do our very best as parents and try to see ahead, but as children we are also learning to be parents, really the manual is living it.  Maybe someday she will read one of my books, but I will teach her to fold the page she wants to come back to instead of tearing it out and handing it to me in pieces to look at.  hahahahaha  Have a wonderful night all.  ❤