Little Free Libraries: Mapped!

registerMapExampleThis post came about from one of the Writing 101 assignments which directed us to use a map to inspire.  I hope you enjoy!

Have you ever stumbled across a curbside free library? Aren’t they awesome! I saw one during my travels this past summer. I was travelling and didn’t need a book, but I did rifle through the selection just for the pure pleasure of it.

Turns out there’s a website where you can find these little treasures. It is called, Little Free Library (it’s a dot org). There’s a world map that you can utilize with zip codes, locations, “near me” or even, if you know it, the library steward’s name! I think that’s very cool.

Today seemed to be all about the little free library on my Facebook feed which is what led to this post.  First, a friend from where I moved from 3 months ago posted a local video that is super cool.

This is my friend's library.
Elise’s library: Each member of the family painted a side and their wonderful personalities shine through!

And then a new friend I am making in this state, Elise, posted that her Free Little Library is now up and running and she posted the link to the library map.  There is so much on that website!

I feel inspired. I’d like to steward one or create, prepare and gift one in a family or friend’s neighborhood at least!  The website has tips and hints for building your library (with wood).  Of course if you don’t want to build one they’re happy to sell you a design finished or unfinished. And if you’re a millionaire maybe you’d invest in The Simpson’s little free library with the signature Simpson Yellow and  original Matt Groening artwork and lettering.

By the way, Little Free Library is a registered organization and name.  If you want to utilize their logo, slogan (Take a Book. Return a Book) or name with your lending library you must register… but then you’re mapped and that is awesome for all of us potential patrons!

If you know of a curbside library, check the map and see if it’s listed. If not approach the Library Steward or leave them a note suggesting they get chartered and mapped! It’s kinda like geocaching, but with books!

Your news hit us like a tornado!

Writing 101 wants us to focus on a single 24-hour period of time with no backstory, flashbacks or foreshadowing. And right now, you still remain my most recent trigger so, Baily, this one is again inspired by you.

The winds were howling like nothing I’d seen in Seattle before. Sure, I had witnessed tropical rains and storms in other parts of the country but this storm, this felt different. The row of tree trunks just 12-feet’s reach from my porch swayed to and fro. Oaks, huge solid oak trees and a single unexpected Redwood, their trunks stretching first to the right and then to the left a good four feet from center while enormous branches broke and crashed to the ground’s floor, the smaller branches and leaves taking flight in the whirling winds that screamed their anguish through our ears. It was frightening but more than that it was awesome. Not awesome in the cool way. But awesome in the powerful way that leads to devastation. We were stunned into silence watching the fury of nature. I stood there staring and wondering which tree would rip the roof off of my life. As it turned out, only one tree fell with explosive concussions. The tree that ripped the roof of our house that day came only moments later, in a telephone call.

“Is this Memee?”

It was only three words, yet something didn’t seem right. It didn’t feel like an unsolicited sales pitch, a bill collector, or a survey taker. With weary I replied.

“Yes, who’s this?”

I didn’t catch her name. Did she even tell me her name? I’m not sure. I just felt sick and didn’t know why. I heard her words, “Joan’s sister.”

I panicked. Joan, my best friend, oh my God why was this woman calling me?

“Joan! Oh my God, is she okay?” (Joan is my best friend and I love her like a sister. She is family. Her sons are my son’s brothers. Our oldest boys best friends.)

“It’s Baily.”

I immediately sobered up unaware for the first time of the massive storm wailing around me.

“Let me turn off the music.”

I was stalling. I needed to sit down. I knew I had to sit down before she said what she called to say. My son, standing just five feet away standing still as a reinforced cement freeway stanchion, a blank stare on his face. He wasn’t on the phone with me but he felt it. He already knew to his soul the words I was about to hear. The music off. I took a deep breath with a prayer in my heart.

“Okay.” I said.

“Baily killed himself.”

The words tore through me as if it was my own son, the son I could see standing before me. In that instant I broke into five billion pieces and then some. I held it together for this woman on the other end of the phone. This woman that was tasked with spreading the news of her beloved nephew’s heartbreaking fate. When I hung up, I looked at my son standing there just steps away knowing yet not knowing. How would I tell him that the person he is closest to in the world would not be his roommate next year in San Francisco, would not be joining in the Mongol Rally they’d been planning for years, would not be standing beside him at his wedding, would not laugh with him or cry with him ever again.

I looked up.

“It’s Baily. He’s dead. He killed himself. I’m so, so sorry, baby!”

And then we brokedown and cried. And cried. And cried. We still cry. We will always cry for your loss and for ours. We miss you.

Baily attended Washington State University where he was majoring in Nuclear Forensics and hoped to help maintain global stability through his work. Always known for his ready smile and gentle demeanor, he was forever ready to lend a hand to anyone in need. He will forever be missed by those that were lucky enough to befriend him and served as a role model to his neighbors and classmates. His strong work ethic was witnessed by all those around him during his 8 summers spent processing fish in Alaska –

Please don’t take your life. Isolation is deadly. Call someone. And if you’re scared to call a friend or family member, please call a hotline or text one! Please do not try to get through “it” on your own. There is no shame in your anguish, pain, and distress.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 24/7: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
Veterans they understand your experiences are different. Press 1 for a line dedicated just to you.
GLBT National Youth Talk (afternoons & evenings M-S only): 1-800-246-7743
Crisis Text Line 24/7: Text “Go” to 741-741 to get started

If you were touched by this post, perhaps you will see it in your heart to go to the family’s Go Fund Me account and make a donation to fulfill a dream that Baily shared with his younger brother Ben. Baily & Ben’s Bee Sanctuary. Funds will be spent on hives and organic fields for bees to recover from their exposure to toxins, planting organic flower gardens, and providing a place for visitors to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

A Thanksgiving List

A Thanksgiving List | Memee's Musings
Photo by Brooke Cagle

We come together from far and near a day like none other for this is clear.

Rhubarb pie so tart and sweet, ice cream atop I’m eager… let’s eat!

Innocent babes dressed in tiny suits and sparkly gowns with nothing to do but be passed ’round and ’round.

Television commentators giving the play-by-play because the tv screen is much too far away.

Everyone’s happy and eager to help but the men all they do is whine and yelp!


A big basket of rolls fresh from the oven… please pass the butter before there’s nothin’!


Lingering flavors perfume the air, but loving moments are the contagion that’s there.

Infectious laughter spreads throughout the house as each woman hears the snore of her spouse!

Sleeping angels, old and young, now the juicy gossip has begun!

The cornucopia of thanks and blessings we’ve shared replenishes the fruit of our souls. Goodbye! So long! It’s bittersweet, and as we walk to our cars we’re already eager for next year’s Thanksgiving tradition repeat!

#WCW Hook ’em with a quote

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”
― Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt

It is Words Crush Wednesday once again and I find myself busy with the Writing 101 course that is put out by Blogging U.  So last week when I saw that one of our assignments was to “Hook ’em with a quote” I knew immediately I’d be putting that assignment on hold until now.

The quote I have chosen jumped out at me as

  1. Fun
  2. Relevant
  3. Timely

And here’s why:  I had just moments before been reading through my classmates submissions for the day and ran across Jim’s post entitled, “Writing 101, Catching Up, Day 3 and Day 4.” Like Jim, I didn’t get started on my assignments on Day One, however I feel no rush to “catch up” with my peers.  I have been doing the assignments out of order when they appeal or inspire me.  I have always wanted to do things my way.  A scrapbooking class?  You bet, I’m there; can’t wait!  Thanks for the materials… Ah look, how cute, you all did the exact same page!  Nope, not me.  I gotta be uniquely me.  My vocation requires strict adherence to guidelines and deadlines so when it comes to my avocations I just gotta let my hair down and swing from the trees like Jane.




If you wanna play #wcw with me, here's your badge!
If you wanna play #wcw with me, here’s your badge!

If you’d like to play along in Words Crush Wednesday (#wcw) just cut/paste and follow these simple rules:

(1) Pingback to the site you discovered #wcw on with every Words Crush Wednesday post. In this case, that’s me:! (you’ll want to switch out my name for yours)

(2) Use the badge they’ve created just for you – size doesn’t matter

(3) Tag your post #wcw so other players can find you

(4) Optional: When you are ready, create your own badge for those you inspire to play Words Crush Wednesday. If you do not create your own badge then your inspirees MUST use the badge from the blogger who inspired you, so be sure to make it easy for them to find.

That’s so super simple, you just might want to do it too!

* To see the badge I earned, visit my very first #WCW post. And, here’s my pingback: Rebirth of Lisa

Dear Abby,

You’re right, drunk tattooing always leads to huge regrets. Personally, I didn’t realize a tweet could be taken back so I guess you are lucky that Twitter is your addiction and not ink. Curious, I decided to see what tweets you felt you could live the rest of your life with and thought I’d pair them up with correlating tattoos. Your tweets do, after all, leave their mark on who we think you are and how we see you.

I hope you are ready, Abby. This is you:

Dear Abby | Memee's Musings

Fight Club soap tattoo
Abby’s Soap Tattoo

Image courtesy of Tattoo Failure
Image courtesy of Tattoo Failure

save me I'm fine

lip tatt

Dear Abby | Memee's Musings

These tattoos represent 6 of your most recent tweets out of nearly 14000! Well, what do you think? Do these tattoos accurately reflect the woman you are? I really do want to hear what you think of these tatts and wonder if not these then which tweets would you represent in tattoo and how would they look?

Thanks for the inspiring fodder,


Be a Better Minion: Take the Poll

So I am finally taking the Writing 101 course over at Blogging University though you’d hardly know it because I didn’t start on day-1 and I am not posting the assignments in order. However it is important that I post this one right away, like tomorrow, because the poll is a requirement for a future assignment. So, minions, I need your help. Please take the poll and let me know what you’d like to see more of from me. You can even “fill in the blank” if you’d like or shoot me an email via the comment form on my Disclaimer page.

Now, then next part of this horrid* assignment: Where do I write?

In bed. These days I write in bed. Today I am writing in bed with a fluffy soft hat, fingerless gloves and hand-knit slippers. It hasn’t always been the case, though it did start off that way. In the beginning — I didn’t mean to sound like the voice of God there; or was that just how it came across in my own head? — it was this same time of year and I was very, very depressed. I hadn’t been out of bed for a couple weeks so I had a great excuse then. I was however, finally, being productive, creating a blog and releasing my thoughts through my typing fingertips.

Things are different now. I live in a totally new state (and today is the 3rd cold day since I’ve gotten here). I am not borderline suicidal. I am still averaging about 6 hours a day “blogging”. The thing here is that I moved in with people who own a lot of stuff and every day there is more stuff. They are not home — which is why I am here — but for sleep. I am not here to be their maid and they need one. So, I pretty much avoid the rest of the house and hang out in my room. It’s small but very bright and free. The windows are huge so it is either sweltering turn-the-fans-to-maximum or freezing, bundle up with hot cocoa and ignore the mists exhaling from my body.

So, basically, it’s comfy and convenient. And so, minions, know you can picture me all bundled up in my bed (the comforter is white, the walls are blue) writing these posts that may reach out and touch you in one way or another. Let me know what I can write to keep you coming back for more. I’m listening.

*I said horrid because I was hoping this would be a course on writing stories and such and so far it’s not been very interesting, at least not to me.