Stories have played a large role in this Farmgirl’s life for the last week and a half. From teaching, to reading, to interacting with people and plants, words and their transformative powers abounded enough for me to take note. I read an Orion piece in which the author, Brian Doyle, reflects, “My god, stories do have roaring power, stories are the most crucial and necessary food, how come we never hardly say that out loud?” So here I am saying it out loud: Stories have roaring power! Fact or fiction, long or short, succinct or rambling, the best stories transport us, transform us and leave us changed.
Image of a woman reading from the National Media Museum, circa 1900
nameMaureen 
Lisa 
Diana Henretty 
Thanks for the blogs Alex. Love reading them.
Here in the Missouri Ozarks, we long for rain!
Our temps have been over 100 for the past few days and so we are
hibernating thru the day time, working our gardens only in the early mornings and late evenings.
There’s lots of time for reading in the afternoons.
My daughter bought me a journal filled with beautiful thoughts for each day, then a few lines to write my own, so thats just what I do on hot afternoons, write a poem about each day!
Thanks for the cheery thoughts! Hugs, Diana
As a storyteller by professional trade I say: "Hear! Hear! Huzzah!"
Bring back oral tradition and the spoken word!
Wonderful post!
Have a truly creative day!
Mimi
The Goat Borrower
My husband is a great storyteller. He can keep groups spellbound for hours with tales of WWII, the war between the states, historical facts, etc. He also writes books and has two of a trilogy in print, check out his website above. Stories have always been a means of learning things for me. Like you say, either fact or fiction they are interesting and I am an avid reader. Thanks for your blog and the opportunity to add my comments.
It was a delight to read about you and Stories! Yes, stories do have power. I am hooked very often listening to my family and friends. I have gone to a couple of professional storyteller conferences…what an art!
Thanks for the reminder,
Laura Ann
One of my very favorite mirmoees when I was growing up, was going to the Bookmobile every two weeks. Oh, how I loved this special treat! I stayed with my Aunt Dianne every summer when I was little and this was something that I looked forward to from one visit to the next. I can remember counting down the days until its next arrival in the nearby little town of Richfield. This is where I could spend hours just reading and looking at books. I would have the hardest time trying to decide what adventure I wanted to go on next. Would it be with Tom Sawyer or the brothers and sisters from the Boxcar Children Series? Most of the time, I went with the children on a boxcar adventure. I still remember how when they first started living in the old abandoned red boxcar on the hill and how they found old metal spoons and scrubbed them with sand so that they could use them. I know I read every book in that series at least three times each summer, plus all the other books as well that I loved reading to my little brother and younger cousins. Whenever I think about the bookmobile, I can still remember that very distinct smell. All those books, in that one small space, gave such a wonderful aroma. It was like medicine for my soul. I still love books to this day, especially old books. It’s funny because whenever I find an old book, it is not unusual for me to open it up and put it to my nose to see, if just by chance, it has that wonderful smell that I still long for. This is such a fond memory for me that I talked about it all the time when I started dating my now husband. A few years ago, when he found out that the same bookmobile that I used to visit was up for sale, he tried to buy it for me as a surprise. Unfortunately, we could not afford it. Which in retrospect, I guess was a good thing, because I would have been in there all the time and never accomplished anything. I have thought many times about how I would love to give that same memory to my own two children. There will never be a more special place to me in my childhood mirmoees. All I can hope for, at this point, is that my mansion in heaven, is an old tan colored bookmobile. Until then, it will forever be in my heart!