Becky's Greatest Hits Vol. II

 We have been suffering a drought in the Southeast this summer.  It has been hot, dry and generally miserable for a few weeks now.  Usually we have until about mid-July before this phenomenon ruins our lives.  Ruination came early this year. The word "drought" has so many connotations in our lives.  Obviously, it usually  means a lack of rain.  But it can mean a lot of other things.  Probably most often people associate it to a lack of sex.  But it could be a drought of the mind, of friends, of fun escapades.  I'm here to tell you, no matter what you're lacking, it does tend to make you feel dried up and near dead.  Be it body or grass. Today, it started to drizzle just a bit.  It didn't last long, but it was such a welcome site outside my office window.  My coworkers were marveling over it.  Everyone was anxious to walk out into it. And I had a memory.  A memory that probably comes to me every time it rains in the summer. Back when I was a young bride (for the fi

 I started writing when I was a young girl.  In elementary school I wrote poems and stories and some of them were even published locally.  I had a wild imagination, but in my heart I wanted to be a reporter some day. I blame Kurt Vonnegut. When I was about 15 I read my first Vonnegut book, Slaughterhouse-Five.  And it's wild and brilliant and insane and we all know it's a classic.  But the thing I remember most was what Uncle Kurt said about the female reporters during WWII.  He said they were the best.  Relentless.  That they worked way harder than the men and were way better.   That's what I wanted to be.  I wanted to go to NYU and study journalism.  I wanted to be Christiane Amanpour, Barbara Walters, Lois Lane!  I wanted to know all the things before anyone else knew.  I wanted a sign-off on the nightly news like Walter Cronkite......"and that's the way it is." Well......needless to say......all that did not happen. My parents didn't want me to go all