“For creative people, the opportunity to dance with the creative process is itself an experience of abundance. Abundance invites us to live the life we truly desire instead of settling for less. We are the choice-makers of our own priorities. We do indeed design our own lives.”
— Gail McMeekin; The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women Journal

Now that I have that window of time wedged open with a steel beam, I will begin my blog tour entry with the beginning of my search for creative success. It was the year 2004, and I was miserable. I had taken a job with a company of crazymakers as what I deemed to be a temporary measure, but sunk slowly into its quicksand with no vine in reach. I searched the internet for support in my makeshift cube in the back of the sample room. I found a web of like-minded creative souls via online “journals,” otherwise known as this new platform called “blogging.” With great haste I began my own blog. Aaaaaah, instant therapy. Knowing that my crazymaking boss and co-workers (his mother and wife) were un-web-savvy, I could purge my creative frustrations in a flush of stream-of-consciousness without their knowledge. What else could I do when I was not permitted phone calls or mental breaks? I cultivated an audience of new friends—young women in similar creative struggles, bum jobs, new husbands, new homes, new puppy dogs. Some of these friends are now old friends whom I have met in person, talk to regularly, or keep tabs on through Facebook (you know who you are ;D). Most of these friends still have blogs of one kind or another, and/or tweet, and have made amazing strides over the past seven years. I am so proud.

So what does all this fluff have to do with this 12 Secrets blog tour, hmmm?

During my early years of blogging, I discovered the magic of creative self-help books. I started with the creativity bible, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron (highly recommended). I learned new habits of self-care. I entertained my lost creative inner child with lunch breaks of frozen yogurt and trips to Borders, where I found more and more books. I scanned the bibliographies of the books I found, and bought the most highly recommended titles. Somewhere in this manic stream of research I found The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women: A Portable Mentor by Gail McMeekin (Conari Press, 2000). I loved everything about this book from the collage on the satin coated cover, to quick-reference quotes by famous women called out in the margins. Practically every page is still lovingly dog-eared.

I inhaled Gail’s words and the stories of hundreds of women who had been in my circumstance at one point or another. Something about the women-only focus appealed to me more than books of similar ilk which avoided giving the reader a specific gender. Knowing that some of my heroes overcame unimaginable obstacles gave me hope that I, too, could grow beyond my current situation. I began to dream bigger.

This is getting long. Fast forward to 2008. I had lived in Colorado since 2005. I was recently divorced. I lost my husband to a girl younger than my youngest sister. I gave up most of my material belongings in a fight over joint debt. Then, I lost 75% of my freelance design business from my bread-and-butter client, who had slashed their marketing budget. I have been forced to give up mountaintop living for a rent-free room in the basement of a friend’s house in Denver. Somewhere in the move, I lost many of my mountaintop friends and found myself starting over from scratch. Again. And involuntarily.

It was during this “rock bottom” that my old collection of creative self-help books became my support group. However, reading wasn’t enough. I needed to connect. I craved an interpersonal boost.

Around this time I rediscovered on my hard drive a picture book manuscript I had written back in 2005, just before my husband and I had moved to Colorado. It was called, “Time to Fly.” When I read it I cried and cried. I had written it at a time of major transition, just before leaving all I ever knew behind in Pennsylvania for what I hoped would be a better, more creatively stimulating and balanced life out West. Now mourning that loss, the words took on new meaning. Something I wrote actually moved me. I had to do something with it. That is when I contacted Gail (not really the first time, but that’s another long story). I got to know her through one-on-one phone coaching sessions. She helped me break down my once abandoned goal of children’s book publication into baby steps. Her presence gave me courage to submit “Time to Fly” to a grant competition with the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. Six months later, I was shocked to receive a Letter of Commendation. Wow, right? I attended regional workshops and national conferences in children’s publishing, completely immersing myself in its current culture. Flap, flap, flap…

BAM! Sometimes baby birds fly into windows, sometimes they fall out of the nest prematurely, and sometimes they leave the nest… only to return years later. By mid-2009 my resources had run dry. I struggled between making money and making the dream come true. I traded the Colorado basement apartment for the basement of my parents’ house in rural Pennsylvania, reunited with old friends, found new love… and began experiencing a myriad of mysterious medical conditions.

Through this last transition, Gail continued to keep in contact with me, even though I could not afford formal sessions. She remained a cheerleader for my progress, however minute my successes. Gail exhibited an infallible faith in me I did not completely comprehend. In 2010 she invited me to join her Creative Catalyst Group—a teleconferencing support group comprised of other women in various stages of goal pursuit. At least twice a month I enjoyed the vocal company of other dream weavers and those appointments alone kept me from straying too far off my own path. During that time I reached a major goal—I completed the production, design and illustration of a children’s album of lullabies called “Sing Me to Sleep, Indie Lullabies.” I organized and attended release parties in London and New York City. The album brought awareness and raised donations to The Valerie Fund, which supports the care of children’s with cancer and blood disorders. The album won two awards (NAPPA Gold and Creative Child Seal of Excellence) and was nominated for an Independent Music Award. The greatest creative achievement of my life renewed my sense of hope.

However great a creative success this album was, I was still living in my parents’ basement, unable to fully support myself, falling into further debt as my darling beagle, Maggie, suffered from glaucoma and a luxated lens which required specialized veterinary care. Thanks to the generosity of friends and family, I was able to provide her with eye removal surgery to end her pain. As soon as that was over, I began visits to orthopedic doctors for my spine and hip. Injections helped the nerve pain in my neck, but the labral tear in my hip required surgery. Symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had also emerged—panic attacks, nightsweats, extreme daytime fatigue and nightly insomnia. Everything but health went on hold and has remained paused since early autumn of this year.

All the while, Gail remained in touch. In the summer she offered me opportunities to create illustrations for her upcoming book, The 12 Secrets of Highly Successful Women. Unfortunately, due to publisher deadlines, that couldn’t happen, but Gail persisted in keeping contact and sending me morsels of hope. Gail cared and SHOWED that she still believed in me, especially when she knew my own belief waned. When I received an invitation to be a host for her blog tour, I was flattered and honored, and I accepted graciously. I reserved my slot for December 5th.

That brings us to today, which should really be yesterday. (A strange phenomenon occurs whenever I turn my attention back to creative fulfillment. I get work. Lots.) I’ve mentioned this to Gail in the past, and it seemed only appropriate that when my blog tour day arrived, I had been subsisting on an average of 3 hours sleep a day (not night) for the past 3 weeks. It’s like, “Knock knock, it is the Creative Force calling! Time to wake up and reevaluate your dream life! We sent Gail to remind you, we know she’s good for it.”

Gail’s two new books arrived in the mail with perfect timing, offering two formats (one workbook, one reader) which means that even when I only have a few minutes of insomnia left in me, I have a page to fall into. Short and sweet, blank for drawings, or in depth with pertinent information—there are lots of choices, leaving little room for excuses.

I have just begun to explore my new creative companions, and already I have dog-eared a page or two, and scribbled some sketches in the hand of my inner child, Snowbird. If it wasn’t a chronological impossibility, I might have asked Gail in her interview (below): “Any chance you wrote all of these books with me in mind?” I know the answer has something to do with like-minded creative spirits. And so my friends…

The Interview

Kate: Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions and include me in your blog tour celebrating the release of your new book, The 12 Secrets of  Highly Successful Women! I first came to know you through your prior book, The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women, while going through a creative crisis some 10 years ago. How would you say your new title, The 12 Secrets of  Highly Successful Women, essentially differs from the first?

Gail: This new book is the advanced version of my 12 Secrets program. It assumes that you already know that you are creative and are actively ready to take your creativity and your life to a new level. It also directs you to discover your own definition of personal heart-felt creative success and to figure out how to leverage your success by using your creative edge in today’s marketplace. It tackles major issues for women like low self-confidence, burnout, perfectionism,  inaccurate societal myths about women, and fear of rejection and gives you insights and strategies on how to deal with them. While I interview fewer women in this book and use more of my own business/creativity knowledge, the 31 successful women I interviewed are all passionate about their work and actively using their creativity daily, they are great role models too. There are Creative Challenges for each chapter so that you get to design a dynamite action plan.

Kate: Have any particular life experiences inspired this second book? And the first?

Gail: The first book, The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women, came about after my own recovery from CFS which led to a creative renaissance for me and a fascination about women and creativity. In my research, I noticed that much of the literature and programming on creativity only mentioned a few token creative women like Martha Graham or Georgia O’Keefe. Frankly, that ticked me off. So I set about to write a book profiling modern-day, sane, happy, creative women, like many of  the women I had as clients, and to create a roadmap for women so that they could get their creative work out into the world. In this new book, The 12 Secrets of Highly Successful Women, I took all the mentoring and training that I had experienced and wanted to share the journey with the reader so that they could take their creativity to a higher level and be well-compensated and fulfilled by it. I should mention here that at the request of my readers, RedWheelConari just released a companion Journal book to the first book which is called simply The 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women Journal and is another program for deepening your creative exploration and writing out your dreams and goals. Writing that Journal book has been a 10 year dream of mine and I am thrilled that it is finally out there to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the first book.

Kate: You speak of yourself as intimately familiar with “ideaphoria.” How did you come to discover your own ideaphoria? How did you personally learn to harness it?

Gail: I always knew that I had lots of ideas. In fact, my husband used to have a request that he have two cups of coffee in the AM before I started talking about all the things that were on my mind, as he initially found them overwhelming, and he is great listener. Now I write in my Journal in the AM so we have shifted the pattern and we talk when we are both fully present. But about 15 years ago, I got invited to take a battery of Aptitude tests at the well-known Johnson O-Conner Research Center in Boston  (they are in several U.S. locations) and I scored in the 99th per centile in Ideaphoria, which is rapid flow of ideas. What a revelation for me! It is my greatest gift. But often our greatest gifts have a down-side and when you have too many ideas for your lifetime, you have to learn to manage it. I talk alot about how to do that in The 12 Secrets of Highly Successful Women as you have to be focused in order to choose the right projects and complete them and not be scattered. So you need sorting strategies, filtering strategies, and I have developed an original FOCUS model that I use in my groups and workshops.I now use post it notes for ideas and then organize them from there.

“You cannot be successful if you cannot control your thoughts.”
— Gail McMeekin; The 12 Secrets of Highly Successful Women: A Portable Life Coach For Creative Women

Kate: One “secret” I have found most challenging in the past and present is delegation. Is this something that you have struggled with in your career? How so?

Gail: For many years I taught a program I developed called Positive Management Strategies to entrepreneurs and managers in large businesses and delegation was a key component. I also coach business owners currently in what I call the “art of delegation.” Some of that material is in The 12 Secrets of Highly Successful Women, as learning to do it well is a huge challenge for many women. Women business owners often try to hold onto way too much responsibility for too long, while men hire a book-keeper and an assistant very early on. Delegation is not dumping—it requires careful training and coaching until the person you have delegated to is up to speed. But most importantly, you have to delegate to people who have the willingness and the ability to do the job. Without those two elements, the delegation will fail. I have had virtual assistants and web designers on my team since 2000 and I feel very comfortable delegating to the right people. But there are always challenges and both parties have to keep the channels of communication wide open.

Kate: The 12 Secrets, when read quickly may seem like no-brainers upon first glance. What is the difference between knowing a Secret, and living that Secret? Can you cite an example in your own creative journey?

Gail: You know that you have mastered a Secret when you are getting the results you want and we often cycle through all 24 of them at different times. In the Success book, Secret #7 which is called “Crafting a Business Plan that Helps You to Grow Personally, Generates Prosperity, and Enhances Your Lifestyle” has been a challenge for me as my Life Purpose is Passionate Mentor, so I am wired up to help people, above all. But I have had to learn more advanced business management techniques the past few years in order to streamline and grow my business. I have the lifestyle I want and I love my work, so those parts are in good shape. But this is my year of metrics and ROI monitoring and businesses development and I was in an intensive training program last year to give me the best skills which I share in the book. Creative people are always learning and mastering new things.

Kate: Knowing what you know now having interviewed some of the most successful, creative women in our lifetime, what advice would you give yourself as a young newcomer to the work force in this economy?

Gail: Invest in a comprehensive career/life assessment with an experienced coach and choose a career path that you really are excited about where there is a need in the marketplace. I work with lots of young women and help them to find their Life Purpose, their best skills and talents, and help them to make their passions and dreams a reality. Also, stop listening to people who give you advice who have no idea what they are talking about. Women are not just supposed to be nurses, secretaries, and teachers, unless they choose to be. There is a whole world out there for us with new kinds of jobs being invented every day. Know thyself, as Socrates said, is your best guide.

“Transformation is about changing potential into reality. It’s about shifting the condition, nature, or function of our lives.”
– Gail McMeekin; The 12 Secrets of Highly Successful Women: A Portable Life Coach For Creative Women

Special thanks to my coach and mentor, Gail McMeekin, for including me in your blog tour of successful and creative women. You have been a huge part of all my successes in this ongoing journey. I look forward to forging the next path with you soon.

…and the secrets of hundreds more women who have inspired her get to that place we all dream of.

Before I can post my full entry as part of the Blog Tour of Gail McMeekin, creative coach and mentor, I must tend to a few minutes of delegation on a code red design project. Delegation is a secret I learned about in Gail’s first 12 Secrets books, and have discussed with her one-on-one in numerous coaching sessions. It has been a major challenge for me as a one-person, self-employed art department for hire.

I also need to quickly brief my client/partner in this project on Secrets Nine and Ten. When the project is over I will wrap both Gail’s books and her workbook in pretty wrap and ribbons and FedEx it to her, wherever she is in the country at this point, building her potentially highly successful business.

In the meantime, if you are not familiar with the amazing Gail and her powerful work, please visit her website and get started on the 12 Secrets to Highly Successful Women Blog Tour. I’ll meet you back here before end of day with a personal interview with Gail and some more of my experiences with the 12 Secrets.

Gail\’s Secret #2 – Sift Through Your Ideas to Get Heart Focused

"Brandywine Rapids" in progress

Sssshhhhh. Do you smell that?

Creeks swell with April rain. May flowers perfume the air and seduce the birds and the bees. *sneeze*

This Spring feels particularly springy to me. Out with the old and dusty! In with the new and lusty! The Earth stimulates my senses, whispering, “Come. Touch. Smell. Feel. Taste. Listen. Everything is reborn.”

“Now paint.”

Somewhere between February and March I made a sharp return to painting the outdoors. I missed Spring last year in the blurry busy-ness of Sing Me to Sleep‘s release. (Oh my gosh, can you believe it’s been a full year now?) This year I consciously reopened my senses to the seasons. And you know, I’ve noticed that in the simple act of noticing, paying deeper attention to the itty bitty changes in the woods surrounding my home, time slows down. The anticipation of Spring greens seemed to delay their arrival. Each bud and sprout appeared so darned stubborn, as reluctant to wake as my beagle baby nestled among my bedcovers on a grey morning.

As I draw and paint the landscape, however, time speeds up. The sun’s position shifts from one blink to the next. Photographs may remember the position of things, but it fails to record the color and quality of the light exactly as I see it.

My purpose in this painterly homecoming is to record the moment, as I see, feel, smell, taste, and hear it. Each moment is precious and fleeting as a hummingbird’s heartbeat.

(Awwwwwwwwww.)
Recent works from March thru April:

"That Trail That Seems to Go On Forever" by Kate Garchinsky, aqua crayon on paper

Study for "White Clay Creek Snow Melt" by Kate Garchinsky, aqua crayon on paper

"Brandywine Rapids" by Kate Garchinsky, aqua crayon on paper

Study for "Brandywine Spring Swell" by Kate Garchinsky, aqua crayon on paper

Follow my Facebook page updates for more works in progress and upcoming exhibits.

It took me 37 years, but I now understand just how important my natural “talents” were for my success in school. The right side of my brain carried me through with its affinity for writing, drawing and language. My memory was highly visual, and I relied heavily upon its ability to “photograph” what I needed to memorize to pass each test in the subjects I found boring or frustrating. When I couldn’t do that and was forced to reconcile with the numbers for what they were, it ended in wailing and tears. Algebra, how I hated you.

Due to my strengths in Art, English, French, Music and Geometry, I managed to completely dodge Chemistry, Trigonometry, and all but one Biology class in high school. In college I flocked to Art again, and managed to dodge math altogether. After a few semesters of flux I settled at the University of the Arts in the Illustration program. There, I became fascinated with Apple computers and the internet, which were relatively new and green with possibilities. Our design teachers didn’t even fully realize the potential yet, and insisted we learn paste-up and cut our own rubyliths. Wikipedia it if you’re younger than 30.

I thrived in an environment where I could work hard and perfect my craft. My attention to detail in illustration won me scholarship money and other rewards. My understanding of color and light translated well to photo-realism. The pressure of deadlines and pleasing professors ensured I show up and do the work, and do it exceptionally well.

The structure of school itself was a comfort, though I resented its restraints. I was late for high school buses and often paid for public transportation when I missed them completely. I still have nightmares about missing classes, forgetting my syllabus, losing my way in the long, dark halls, forgetting my locker combination, forgetting my lines in school plays. None of the most basic, regular day-to-day parts of school were easy for me. Even the parts I loved were difficult. Being an artist, I did get a “pass” in being the absent-minded type, I guess. Certain teachers understood me, and valued my talents more than they cared to punish my inadequacies. While my classmates studied or read the next chapter in Social Studies, I stapled away at holiday billboards, high above the rest on a wobbly chair, ever aware and fearful that the boys might see up my pleated uniform skirt.

What no one saw, not even my parents, were the catastrophic situations I’d imagine, the nightmares I’d live in my brain and avoid playing out in real life as much as possible. Constantly thinking, imagining, avoiding. The exhaustion of the effort. The pain of imperfection. A lingering, doomed feeling that I was not like anyone else, but I could not understand why. Not quite a brainiac, definitely not with the hip crowd, a brown-noser to most, I felt forever in between being somebody and nobody, an achiever and a poser. I tried so hard.

I always did well in school, but I am certain I worked much harder than anyone could see on the surface. Not until I had the arts at my disposal did I feel any peace, belonging, acceptance.

I feel there is an important link between mental capacity and art. It pains me that the arts are first to be cut in schools, businesses and cities when finances are strained. Art is not a luxury item. It fills an intellectual, emotional need for the children and adults that benefit from the creation of it. Beauty lies in the eye of the artist.

exhaustion [ɪgˈzɔːstʃən] n

1. extreme tiredness; fatigue
2. the condition of being used up; consumption exhaustion of the earth’s resources
3. the act of exhausting or the state of being exhausted

I love this spot. Taken by Scott McBride.

Exhaustion isn’t always necessarily bad. There’s post-exercise exhaustion. Post {bleep} exhaustion. Post-party exhaustion. Today it’s post-SCBWI-NYC-Mid-Winter Conference exhaustion. Who else is with me?

For the past three days I sat in a crowded room and absorbed a highly charged current of creativity in the electro-magnetic New York City.

I <3 NY.

Snow dustedness outside the Grand Hyatt

The mere scale of this weekend’s conference could easily terrify and exhaust any introvert. There had to be at least 1,000 people in the main ballroom. At least. All exchanging creative energy, enthusiasm, frustrations and exhaustions through conversation, presentation, body language, laughter and sighs.

*cue long sip of Rioja*

Door prize time!

I cannot possibly share it all right now. I’m not even sure it’s possible to share it all. The mere thought exhausts me. So… how about a few highlights? After that, I’m going to search for last night’s episode of SNL because Scott and I could not hear the TV audio from our two corner stools at Rosemary’s Greenpoint Tavern last night. El DeBarge had stolen all the rowdy room’s ears via jukebox.

*sip*

Weekend highlights (kind of in order of occurence):

Friday:
Making it to NYC just in time to drop off my art. Catching up with John. John Carlin and Rubin Pfeffer’s eBook session. Conversing briefly with a Mentee without realizing who he was. Fantastic Italian dinner in NoHo. Picking up my Showcase art and seeing all 20 large postcards had been snatched. Good dark ale at McSorely’s with Scott and a table full of strangers-turned-pals from NYU law school.

Saturday:
Whew. Hilarious and humble luncheon keynote by the gazillion-copy-selling author of Goosebumps, R.L. Stine. Meeting an eBook entrepreneur. Book signing party minglings. Chatting with Marilyn. Snowflakes that stayed on my nose and my lashes. Perfect vegetable dumplings at Samurai Mama. Watching Eye of the Tiger through the glass wall at the bar at the Knitting Factory. Making super secret plans with Scott at Rosemary’s.

R.L. Stine receives thanks post-keynote

Sunday:
Sara Zarr’s keynote. Sitting next to Olivia and Nadine Bouler, sharing a bird joke before I realized who Olivia was. *Birdartiststarstruckness* Following the owls and the penguins. The humor panel including Mo Willems. Making last-minute connections with people in line at the autograph party. Talking to Jane Yolen and Heidi Stemple about birding, owling. Birding and writing. More wandering around Brooklyn. Experiencing the moment. Feeling right.

The owls are everywhere, and they are very wise.

Ok. That’s all I’ve got. When I get home I’ll scan some of my notes. They’re littered with character sketches. Girls in animal masks. Penguins doing yoga. Well, trying their best. It’s not easy with those stumpy little legs.

*sip*

Penguins are also wise. They love beagles, just like me.

*snore*

Happy holidays and happy snow days! I hope the east coast appreciated the slightly-late White Christmas I wished for and delivered this past weekend.

Oh and yes, so—guess what? I opened an Etsy shop in December and neglected to mention it here until after Christmas. Oh bother. If you’re a Facebook friend or follower, you already knew. But here’s the skinny:

Items sold in my store may not only make your eyes and ears happy, but they also benefit some one or some dog in need. Right now I’m selling “Sing Me to Sleep” signed prints and CD bundles for The Valerie Fund, “Owl Dream” prints for Tri-State Bird Rescue, and water bottles and pet portraits for my beagle, Maggie. Over the past few years, Maggie developed secondary glaucoma in her right eye which has damaged her cornea and causes her constant pain and discomfort, varying in intensity from day to day. The only way to stop this fluctuating inflammation permanently is to remove the eye. There are two options here—to stitch the lid closed, or to insert a false eye. As difficult as it is for me to imagine Maggie in a never-ending wink, the first is my chosen path, as it’s less expensive but 100% effective. Unfortunately, this is an unexpected expense that will over-deplete my recession-red resources.

Maggie in 2008, prior to her most recent eye problems

Maggie now—very much lacking her typical joie de vivre

If you love dogs, love beagles, love me or love Maggie, please consider purchasing a bottle or portrait to help Maggie receive the care and relief she needs. My girl has not been herself since this year-long optical journey began.

Maggie will be posting her ocular progress on her newly revived blog (coming very soon). If you were a reader of “Me, Maggie” back in the day (circa 2004 – 2006), you can dust off her bookmark. She’s definitely ready to give out more puppy licks.

Happy New Year. Let’s make it a good one.

Today, please take a moment of silence to be thankful for birds, particularly Turkeys, without whom this day would be rather anti-climactic and deprived of the best gravy in the world.

In honor of the Turkey, and more notably, the Turkey Gram, I repost my orignal 2003 account of the Turkey Gram, made possible by my father and inventor of the tradition, Hugh Garchinsky. Thank you, Dad, for decades of Thanksgiving entertainment and walking on turkey eggshells.

NOVEMBER 26, 2003

Turkey Gram!

Thanksgiving brings back one particular memory for me; a recurring memory, an annual tradition in my family that has been celebrated since I was a little snowbird. In my childhood, Thanksgiving Eve was a time of preparation, not only for the feast to come, but also for the inevitable transformation of my father. Days before Dad starts getting punchy. It’s like he can hardly wait.

As dawn approaches on Thanksgiving morning, the house is still. My sisters and I are tucked away in our beds, dreaming of sugar plums…er, parades and pies. Dad, an early riser, begins stirring downstairs with great stealth. In my slumber I barely hear him mumble in the distance.

“Gobble gobble.”

Still in a dream state, I roll over and drift back to sleep. It’s much too early to open my eyes. It is so warm and dark and comfy in my footie pajamas, rolled up in my rainbow sleeping bag with my bear and my rabbit.

“Gobble gobble.”

Oh no. Not yet. I’m so tired!

“Gobble gobble.”

The high pitched call is getting louder. He’s closer. Closer still. Coming up the stairs. In my grogginess I try hard not to giggle.

“Gobble gobble.”

Oh, no he’s here. Though my eyes are closed I can picture him standing over my bed. I pretend I’m still asleep and hold my breath. I know my fate; I am the oldest child, so I am First.

“Gobble gobble.”

Silence.

“TURKEY GRAM!!!

Turkey gram for: KATIEEEEE!!!”

Dad tickles me as he exclaims his anthem in the loudest, highest pitched voice he can muster. For a few short moments I giggle hysterically and try to protect myself from tickle torture. Then, as suddenly as he pounced, Dad withdraws and is off to his next victim in the bed beside mine.

“Gobble gobble.”

The cycle continues until he has startled every child in the house. And although we all protest his antics, we look forward to it every year.

Dad still follows his routine, although my Turkey Gram doesn’t get delivered until I arrive for dinner at my parent’s house.

Happy Thanksgiving!