When I started my blog it was sort of an experiment to see if I could still be disciplined enough to sit down and write everyday, and it was an opportunity for me to share something of myself with a few of my friends.
Who knew blogging would become such an important part of my everyday life!
I just wanted to again, thank each and every one of you who have been following my story every day. I appreciate the time you take to read my work and I appreciate your comments.
I write about what is meaningful to me... I don't write to be popular, rich, famous etc. I have had some publishers tell me my writing is too real. I guess that's a bad thing in today's world of blue-faced aliens, light sabers and web-fingered characters. I'm not knocking this form of writing; it's just not MY style.
I applaud any writer and his/her efforts. Writing anything is hard work. Hours and hours of intensive mind work can be very exhausting, and in novel writing, it can go on for months even years without a writer ever being completely satisfied with their finished product. It's a personal thing; it's a part of you that once down on paper is lost to you forever.
This is why as a writer I so enjoy hearing that some have and do enjoy my work. I don't care if Random House thinks I can write, but it thrills me to pieces to know my readers think that I can.
So thank you, those who have followed and commented so generously on Winter Wheat. Because of your encouragement I'm going to start a sequel to this story. I might even take some liberties and name some characters after some of my fantastic readers... (But I'll ask you first).
Today it ends.....
Christmas came and went in much the same manner as the year before, except there were less gifts under the tree than the year before and with George gone there was one less person to join the festive meal that Annie and Emilie had toiled over for days. The weather was unseasonably mild, so the whole family was able to visit many homes of their friends in the community over the Christmas season. Karl would be returning back to the mountains to work as he had the year before, but this time he would return earlier so he could be home when his and Emilie’s first child was born.
They celebrated New Years Eve with their dear friends Annie and Fredrich, and after yet another glorious feast the two families in entirely spilled out of the house into the mild winter’s night to count down the minutes to the arrival of the New Year. At a minute before midnight, Fredrich loaded his rifle and pointed it towards the sky, and as the count down ended he fired three shots into the night air to signify the start of 1931.
As the group stood silently in reflection, everyone wondered what the New Year would bring.
Emilie’s thoughts focused on her unborn child, and the four months remaining until she would deliver the new little “Wright” into the world. Then her eyes touched on each and every one of her family gathered near, and she silently prayed for their continued good health. She said another special prayer for the safety of her beloved George so very far from them all.
Karl, as was so typical of Karl, worried about the lack of money, and the ever-worsening economy. He thought of all the articles he had been reading in the newspaper about the country’s recession, and the dire predictions that were prophesied for the coming year. He glanced quickly at his wife and was reminded that although the world around them was heading for disaster, here in his own little corner of the world, nothing could be better. He thanked the heavenly stars for that day just over a year ago when he had first laid eyes on his Emilie, and he knew that with her by his side he could weather just about any storm the Good Lord sent his way.
Annie didn’t have time to reflect this night, as she was too busy bustling around making sure her guests were well fed and cared for, anyway she reckoned that no amount of stewing would change anyone’s situation, in the end the Lord above would look after them all.
Fredrich stood as if rooted to the ground; his head tipped way back as he peered up into the night sky and thanked his lucky stars for yet another year come and gone. Life had been good to him so far, and his only wish was that he be given another year in which to carry on his life with Annie and their newly acquired family.
The children were not worried about a thing as the last pop from Fredrich’s rifle echoed through the air, except maybe that the night may be nearing an end and soon they would have to say goodbye and go home to their beds.
A New Year - and with it, new possibilities, new hopes, continued dreams, and a brand new chance to start over once again. A farmer needed that renewed chance every year, now more than ever with the depression worsening all around them.
As a group they turned and retraced their steps back into the house where Annie was waiting to serve one last helping of tea and cakes before this night came to its final close.