Showing posts with label #Nashville. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Nashville. Show all posts

Saturday, January 27, 2024

A Little of This... by Liz Flaherty

Happy Saturday! I hope you're staying dry and safe. No regular post today. I have writing-type stuff going on, so I'm not writing. How does that work? Not always very well. 

The picture is a Facebook game that shows what I look like as a hippie. Although I'm not sure it looks like me--even me 40 years ago--but I just like it. It's too different from how I look to use it as an author photo, but since you know better anyway...

I'm part of an all-day Facebook celebration today, with lots of authors and giveaways. Fun conversations and interesting posts. I hope you come by! The event takes place here: 


I got a lovely message today from Leah Leach, Executive Director of Gal’s Guide to the Galaxy in Noblesville letting me know my essay, The Rickrack Chronicles, will be include in the Gal's Guide's annual anthology. It is both a pleasure and an honor to be included with some very good company. You can pre-order and find more out about the Gal's Guide here: https://galsguide.org/2024/01/19/gals-guide-anthology-nourish/

My friend Nan and I are taking off for a few days to do some writing in Nashville, Indiana. It's one of our favorite places. We may stop in while we're down there and take a look at Ron Luginbill's ukuleles at
Weed Patch Music


Speaking of music, if you're looking to hear some, Lew Little and Mike Almon release weekly reports on who's playing what kind of music at which location. https://www.facebook.com/lew.little

I'll try to have more to say next week. I hope you have a great one. Be nice to somebody. 









Saturday, January 22, 2022

I Don't Talk Funny--You Talk Funny by Liz Flaherty

Let's talk about traveling. Want to? 

It's one of my very favorite things, from the first trip in my memory--Pennsylvania--to the one I just came home from: Nashville, Indiana. 

Honestly? I don't remember much about the trip to Pennsylvania--I was only five, I think. I remember sleeping in a chair that stretched out flat in a motel room, that my cousins had cool tricycles, and that there were sidewalks all over the place on Jones Street in Hollidaysburg that made riding them so much fun. I remember my grandpa advising me to watch my step at Horseshoe Curve right before he tripped and that the adults talked a lot. Why would they talk when there were so many things to do? (I came to understand this later...)


A trip with my friend Shirley and her parents to Washington, DC in 1965 deepened my love for this country and its traditions. Many, many years later, I still remember how it felt to stand in front of Mr. Lincoln in his memorial, the powerful sense of sacrifice that came with visiting Arlington National Cemetery, the pride that came along with being inside the capitol building. At the national fireworks on July 4, there were several hundred thousand people in attendance, well beyond anything I'd ever seen, much less been part of. 


There have been other trips that remain vivid in my mind. Back to DC with our kids, to Ireland in 2009, to Vermont when the sense of homecoming went so deep I still feel it, to the Blue Ridge and the coast of Maine, to Florida's white sand beaches. I have loved everywhere I've been, although a few times the only things I really loved were the people we were there to see. Texas, anyone? 

Writing retreats are some of my favorite excursions. Something about sitting in a house on the side of a mountain with laptops and glasses of local wine and/or endless cups of coffee just brings out the best words in writers. I can't explain it, but there you go. 




While home is my favorite place to be, I'm so grateful to have seen the places I have. I hope I get to see a lot more. I want to hear the accents--I don't talk funny; you talk funny--feel the social vibrations that differ from place to place, and crane my neck to look at wonders both natural and man-made. I want to sleep on beds I don't have to make and use towels I don't have to launder (even though they're always white; have I ever mentioned that I don't like white?) and eat lots and lots of food that tastes different from what I'm accustomed to and--most importantly--I don't have to cook or clean up after. 

I guess there hasn't been much point to this column. Are you surprised? But I'd love to hear how you feel about travel. About your favorite places or even about your Texas. Any advice on where I should go next or how I can talk Duane into it? 

God, I love traveling.

Have a good week. Go somewhere. Be nice to somebody.