I've been nominated for a Liebster award!

Many thanks to Joanna77 for the nomination.  It's an honor to be thought of, so thank you, Joanna77.  Here's a little more information on what the Liebster Award is all about:

‘The Liebster Award is said to have originated in Germany and translated to English, Liebster means “beloved.” The Liebster Award is meant to bring more attention to blogs with fewer than 200 followers and has four rules.

1. Show your thanks to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
2. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Bask in the love from the most supportive people on the Internet. So I have decided to nominate the following five favourite blogs:

Melinda Williams

Darian Wilk

Lisa L Regan

Tracy Krauss

Alex Djuricich (full disclosure-- Alex is my husband, and he needs more blog followers. I do like his blog, though.)

Visit these blogs and follow if you like them.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

September 11, 2001

The day dawned bright and sunny.  A perfect day to be outside.  Too bad I was stuck inside at work.  I worked in a small ER in southern Indiana, where pick-up trucks ruled and hunting was taught at birth.  The first plane had just hit the WTC when we got the call.

A man, out hunting with his buddy, had just been shot.  He had buckshot from neck to knees and was in pretty bad shape.  They were bringing him to us, hoping against hope that the injuries weren't as severe as they appeared.

Unfortunately for the man, the injuries were quite severe.  I placed a tube in his chest to reinflate a lung collapsed by the shotgun blast.  I told the man we were going to get him to a trauma center as soon as possible, and to hang in there.

We called for the chopper.  By this time, the second plane had hit the tower, and the pentagon was in flames.  Nothing could fly.  Not even a medical helicopter all the way out in Indiana.

We sent the man by ambulance, but the ride took over an hour.  By the time he got trauma center, he was already infected with bacteria from the wounds in his abdomen.  Three days later he was gone.

Why do I tell you this story?  Because 9/11 didn't just hit NYC, DC, and Pennsylvania.  It hit all of us.  Some of us were affected in big ways, others in small, but it profoundly changed the lives of all Americans forever.

I will forever remember the man I resuscitated on September 11, 2001.  I will always add another number to the accounting of dead from that day.

Take a moment today and remember those who are gone forever.

Campaign Assignment Numero Uno

Here's my first assignment in the Rachel Harrie Campaign, something I've never tried before-- Flash Fiction! Here's the actual assignment:


Write a short story/flash fiction story in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, including a poem. Begin the story with the words, “The door swung open” These four words will be included in the word count.

If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional), use the same beginning words and end with the words: "the door swung shut." (also included in the word count)

For those who want an even greater challenge, make your story 200 words EXACTLY!


 I don't know how it'll turn out, but I had fun doing it.  I managed to complete all three aspects of the challenge, all before having coffee, which is pretty incredible for me.  So, without further ado, here it is!

The door swung open, revealing the chaos within.  No light existed in this vacuum, the light from the hallway bulb fighting to illuminate the space.  The stench of something long forgotten wafted up from the floor, assaulting nostrils and offending sensibilities.  I feared what I might find as I contemplated the unthinkable: entering.

Perhaps I was over thinking things.  As far as I knew, no one had entered the door and failed to return.  All I had to do was go in, complete my task, and get out.  Simple, right?

But I didn’t do well with small, enclosed spaces.  I didn’t do well with manual labor.  And this job combined the two in a place that scared me.  It needed to be done, though.  I rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath, and entered.

I looked around the area.  Games were on the top shelf, clothes were stuffed into every conceivable corner, and an old bowling ball of my dad’s threatened to fall off a shelf in the corner.  One small bump is all it would take.  It would land on my foot and break it.

Enough.  I was out of this closet.  Behind me, the door swung shut.

That's it.  Questions?  Comments?  Ways to improve?  All are welcome.  My entry is number 17-- don't forget to "like" it if you do, in fact, like it.