I am Ellie. Wife of one. Mother of seven. Writer. Reader. Teacher. Learner. Photographer. Picture book connoisseur. Crafter of many trades/master of none. Map lover. Pacific Northwesterner. Wild space hungry. ISTP, (today at least). Urban dweller. Skeptic. Wanna-be beekeeper. Wanna-be linguist/polyglot. Musically inept. Woefully absent-minded. Board game and thunder storm enthusiast. World traveler someday. Catholic… the practicing kind. Fool… also the practicing kind.
I also write here:
THE BLEEDING PELICAN: a double entendre
The Pelican Legend:
“There were hard times in the bird kingdom. After a fruitless search for food, a mother pelican returned hungry to the nest where five hatchlings awaited her. The famished baby birds made a racket, pecked at the mother’s plumage, beating their beaks against the mother’s breast. The bird didn’t feel pain, but was gripped by only one thought: how to get food for her offspring. With sharp pecks of her own beak, the mother scored her own breast and the rivulets of blood flowed into the mouths of the hungry offspring. Their lives were saved.”
The Bleeding Writer:
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” —Hemingway