UP A MULBERRY TREE

Mulberry tree. In the middle of a chicken yard in a small Texas town. A place to hide from chores. A writing room. That's where the name of this blog comes from. Climbing to the top of the mulberry tree, Red Chief tablet and pencil in my jeans pocket, offered me the first place to write my stories. I loved the solitude. It seems that I could climb up there among those big leaves and when Mama called me to do chores, I couldn't hear a word she said.

I don't climb mulberry trees anymore but I still write--most every day. It is such a part of me that I dare say I would be the dullest, most unhappy, desperate woman in this town if I could not write. I have an addiction. Actually, more than one addiction afflicts me...the love of writing and the love of reading.

My home is going to sink into the ground one day from the weight of all the books, journals, files, and odds and ends collected to enhance these addictions. There is a stack of books between my nightstand and the bed, not to mention the roll out shelf filled with books beneath my side of that bed. In my bathroom there are two wide, deep shelves filled with books--I light candles, pour in the bubble bath and read every night. There are collections--mine and mama's--of cookbooks in the bottom of the china cabinet in the dining room and on two wrought-iron book shelves in the kitchen. In baskets beside the leather sofa and my recliner in the den, you will find--yep, books. My office has shelving built in one half of a long wall--and it is entirely filled. I cull the writing books now and then and pass them on to my students; then I turn around and buy books to fill the space. The bottom of the closet has stacks of books--and don't ask me about the plastic containers in our storage shed outback.

My already-published articles and book drafts are filed away in their own boxes in the shed. My in-process work is filed in my office in rolling files. Some of the recently published, research of interesting subjects and supplies are contained in a file cabinet on our driveway. Since we aren't supposed to have something as noticable as that on our driveway, hubby Ray painted the file cabinet the same color as our manufactured home and the shed--it fades into the background.

I don't know what would happen if we ever moved a long distance away--like to Florida as my duaghter and son-in-law would love for us to do. I'd have to really clean out, throw away papers and give away books. I don't know if I could do it as this addiction to writing and reading has a mighty strong hold on me.

TIP: You don't need a special room to write in; you can write and read anywhere. In fact, getting away from the messy desk, dirty dishes in the sink or unmade beds may be just the encouragement you need to do your best writing.

PROMPT: Write about a secret place (from family members at least) where you'd like to be writing at this moment.