When I was in third grade, for a period of time, my grandmother homeschooled my sister and I on the screened-in porch at her house. The porch was lake-side, shaded by a glorious camphor tree, and blessed with a constant breeze. My grandmother taught us cursive and spelling, took us on walks, and fed us lunch (pb&j with butter spread on the jelly side so it wouldn’t make the bread soggy).
I wrote a story that year. Maybe my first. It was about a little tiny turtle, “no bigger than the metal band that holds the eraser on the pencil” who had a red spot on her shell and was named Rosebud. I think she got trapped inside the lake house and rode to freedom on a blowing leaf. I don’t remember much about the story, but I remember the feeling of being a writer. It’s a good feeling.
Now the screen porch is a memory. These days, life is different and busy, but writing remains a constant. I’m working on a novel. Dabbling in poetry and micro-memoirs. Writing as a way of thinking through how we apply the Gospel to every area of our lives. And loving all of it.
I’m Allison. I’m married to Jeremy, and we have five young kids (ages 13 to 4), three by birth and two by adoption. We belong to an Acts29 church (no worries if you don’t know what that is; it’s a great network of churches), and we serve there. Jeremy works from home, and I homeschool the kids, so we’re all home all the time, which makes life loud and crazy, full of opportunities to practice living out the command to love our neighbors (in our home and across the cul-de-sac), and richly blessed.
I love to write (obviously), to read (voraciously–it’s as necessary as breathing), to be outside (in the woods, on a lake, or on the back deck), and to spend time with my people. Thank you for stopping by!