- Illinois, USA
- January 26
- On this blog: All words (other than identified quotations) © Sharon Nesbit-Davis, All rights reserved.
You can find me on Facebook: Sharon Nesbit-Daivs, or "The Mime Writes" Logo Design by Dianaani
I work as the Education & Community Engagement Director of a Regional Arts Council which means I beg "the deciders" to fund and support the arts for everyone, not just the rich.
I am also a mime. For those that hate mimes, I understand. But you'll never find me annoying people on the street, unless I'm living there. I'm a "concert mime" ...which means you have to buy a ticket. I haven't done much mime lately...I'd rather be writing.
I've been married to my one and only since 1976. Still happy. Still in love. Two kids, eight grandkids. In college I became a Baha'i (a world religion whose main theme is unity). It keeps me relatively sane in a world gone mad.
MY RECENT POSTS
- From the Memoir: Driving
October 05, 2014 11:27PM
- My Perfectly Flawed Father
(tiny revisions with Update)
June 15, 2014 12:55PM
- Writers & Families
June 01, 2014 11:58AM
May 28, 2014 01:03PM
- My Never-Will-Do List
January 04, 2014 06:46AM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
proverb: "Happy is the father
happy with his
October 20, 2014 11:18PM
- “It cannot open soon
enough...will be looking for
October 15, 2014 02:26PM
- “write, write, write, and
then write some more.”
October 07, 2014 12:38AM
- “thanks for the
nightmares...but then you
October 06, 2014 08:34PM
- “I heard about the plot
of this...somewhere... Maybe
(reported by a calm
October 06, 2014 04:06PM
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
I used my brothers’ new crayons and wrote every letter I knew on our bare wood stairs. My mother screamed when she found it and blamed my older brothers. She did not accuse me because I wasn't in school yet. My brothers denied involvement, pointed out clues and named th… Read full post »
It is the summer before kindergarten. There is a vacation playground program at the neighborhood school. My mother lets me go with my older brothers after lunch. They take too long to eat but if I tell them to hurry they eat slower, so I wait outside to jump and twirl instead of… Read full post »
I stopped for gas on my way home and the police brought a young man out of the station in hand cuffs. Around his neck hung a student ID. They took him to the back of the squad car and out of my view.
Store workers came out for… Read full post »
I celebrated my fifth decade by performing a one-woman show entitled "Mime in Mental Pause." I wasn't there yet. But I was ready. Unrelenting pain, blood clots, and ruined panties were not fun, no matter how I adjusted my attitude. The uni… Read full post »
The week-end my parents moved from their home and into the assisted living facility near me, Mom sighed and pouted. “I wish we could both die here, right now.”
“That could be arranged.”
She cried when I said I was joking.
Later she quizzed my&… Read full post »
Growing up with Republicans, I know how vile the talk can be about Democrats. It was so bad during the Kennedy vs. Nixon battle that I cried when Kennedy won. My mother finally agreed to giving me a birthday party, and now the world was going to end. I… Read full post »
The summer before I went to Jr. High I knew it was my last summer being a kid. My next door neighbor was a year older and felt embarrassed playing with me. If her new friends from school came over she abandoned me until they left. That summer I rode… Read full post »
1961 was my Indian summer. I was nine and watched Westerns on TV cheering for the Indians to win. They didn't. I checked out the only book about Indians in the children't section of the library: “The Story of Squanto”. Most days I convinced the girl across the street to play… Read full post »
When my son was born I had a lot to learn. My experience was limited to the baby of a friend, but my friend was so thrilled being a mom she did everything herself. After several months she let me change the diaper, but both times it fell off.
My… Read full post »
"Busy people are happy people." My mother-in-law laughed when she said it. I did too because I thought she had to be joking. That was before I knew it was her mantra.
To look at her, you wouldn't think she was busy. When running late she didn't hurry. "We'll get there… Read full post »
When a spouse dies you are a widow or widower. Parents die and you are an orphan. There is no name for a parent whose child dies. It would make conversations easier when the subject of children comes up. Do we think by naming it, we give it power? Do… Read full post »
My grandson did a marathon reading of the first Hunger Games book before the movie came out. He has never done that. He prefers action...martial arts, gymnastics, hip-hop dance, football and acting. He's currently rehearsing a children’s production of Sleeping Beauty. He wanted to be/… Read full post »
When my son was a teenager, he and a friend came to a store with me. They walked ahead and I was far enough behind no one suspected we were together. Our skin colors don't match. I watched as white woman moved away, holding purses closer.
Years earlier, white women stopped… Read full post »
It’s February and that means my son-in-law, who is African American and a spoken word poet, is booked solid with school appearances. He’ll share Black History through his poetry and hope these words will alter attitudes of mind, heart and spirit. By the end of February he wi… Read full post »
My Brownie troop leader announced we were going to be famous. She may not have said those words, but that’s what I heard. Our picture was going to be in the newspaper to promote Girl Scout Cookie Sales. My mother told my relatives, and my grandfather said most people don't… Read full post »
I was five and it was summer and I had done something very bad. My oldest brother said it was so bad I was on Santa's Naughty List and there was not enough time to get off. I decided to ask the older neighbor girl to help me write… Read full post »
I was three when we moved into the tall house on Elm Street with the huge yard and high ceilings and a living room with a real working fireplace. There is only one Christmas I remember believing in Santa Claus. That year we had a tree so tall I couldn't… Read full post »
My father picked me up from the bus. I was too busy talking about semester finals and problems with my landlord to notice his silence. When we pulled up to the house, I knew something was wrong. No wreath on the door. No electrically lit candles in the windows. Inside there was nothin… Read full post »
My hometown is an hour and half up river from St. Louis. We were on the Illinois side of the Mississippi, which, according to my Chicago-born husband, should have made us Cub fans. But we weren't. The Nesbit's are Cardinal fans. We have a brick declaring that on the sidewalk … Read full post »
Clara was tall and looked like her mother. That was unfortunate. The first syllable of her last name sounded like snot and she had allergies. That was also unfortunate. The boys teased her and none of us girls defended her. Her mother said we were jealous because&nb… Read full post »
My mother gave me a book for my birthday forty years ago. She bought it at the Hallmark Store in the mall. The cover has a drawing of a brown haired girl with pigtails picking flowers. Maybe it reminded her of me. But I rarely wore dresses and never… Read full post »
Steve NilsonRead full post »
I was stopped at a long red light. A bumper sticker was on the car in front of me: "If You Can't Feed 'Em, Don't Breed 'Em!" I wanted rip it off. Fortunately the light turned green. The guy sitting in the driver's seat looked big. I assumed he was mean.… Read full post »
Post has been taken down for major revisions.
Read full post »
I knew my father wasn’t perfect. I got spanked when I didn’t deserve it and reprieved when I did. He was mild mannered with a temper that terrified. The eruptions were rare but when they happened it was ugly and he looked mean. Jesus would not have done that. So… Read full post »