True story: I sat down at my computer to do some editing and this program (MuseScore) just opened up. I honestly don’t know how, because I don’t have it on my start page or work bar. But, remembering that I had written this last year, I put “Fourth of July” into the search box. This came up. I almost cried listening to it. It isn’t just the nostalgia. I really do love my country.
Originally posted on Susan Call Hutchison:
The Memory of a Song
Since this is my “Author Site,” I like to talk about how my poems and stories came to be. The poem I just posted on Read-Aloud, Read-Along with Susan Call Hutchison started a long time ago.
No big surprise, I was swinging at the time, in a backyard swing at my Uncle and Aunt’s. My father, mother, sisters, cousins and my grandparents were there for a Fourth of July picnic.
Dad and Uncle Bill were setting up the charcoal grill. Grandma had made her famous potato salad, and somehow Aunt Joanne was keeping an eye on all of us kids, and getting everything ready for an outdoor celebration.
My nickname back then was Skeeter. Daddy said I couldn’t stay in one place longer than…
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