Michelle gave me a couple of blogging topics because I’ve been suffering horribly from blogger’s block. :cheesy: So, here goes…

What was the bravest thing you’ve ever done when you could’ve just walked away? And you can’t say ’submitted a story to a publisher/agent’.

This question was killing me until I replaced bravest with hardest. The hardest thing I’ve done when it would have been easier to just walk away is—this might sound stupid—apologize. You know, those big and sincere apologies for fairly big mistakes? My fear of having a heart-felt apology rejected always made it seem easier to walk away and let that person go. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that losing friendships hurts more than a rebuffed apology. And I always feel better having given it, regardless of the outcome. (Though it’s still horribly difficult for me and it takes forever to work up the courage enough.)

Your oddest job or on-the-job experience? (I worked as an archivist’s assistant in a museum, shovelled pig poop, and went on buying trips to Guatemala for the family business).

Oh, I’d love to try being an archivist’s assistant in a museum. (Although…I bet it’s not quite as Indiana Jones as it sounds. *g*)

I guess my oddest job—odd for me anyway, very odd—was milking cows, which was shortly after high school, I guess. Although I didn’t mind the milking as much as I did the bottle-feeding of the calves. Those things will latch on to anything, and once they do, they don’t let go. No, they are head-butting, sucking machines. That scene in the Cowboy Way where Keifer Sutherland and Woody Harrelson torture the guy by dropping his drawers in front of a calf? *shudder* I’m surprised there haven’t been horror movies made about hungry calves.

The husband often tries to get me to go over to a local farm to buy fresh milk, but no thanks. I prefer my milk in a plastic gallon jug, homogenized, pasteurized, exposed to light to kill the vitamins and all that jazz. :cheesy:

Coming later: Why Stephen King is driving me mad.