I CLIMBED A TREE AND BECAME AN AUTHOR

Growing up on a farm in the 40's, we had few rules; one was never to go into the pig pen; and never go into the corral when the holstein bull was in there.

I had no problem with the pig pen. But there was a tree in the middle of the corral that had the most wonderful notch--just girl size--and it beckoned every summer afternoon to bring a book, or two or three, and come for a visit. 

Now, in my no-longer-young years, I'm quite sure my daddy knew of my secret reading tree, but I was never scolded for going there. Daddy was a reader, too, and I think he understood the worlds that would open for me; places he would never be able to take me.

People have often asked me--now that I can put  'AUTHOR' after my name--when I knew I wanted to write.

Well--it was when I climbed that tree!!