Jill Weatherholt

Pursuing a Passion for Writing


A senior what?

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

When I was a teenager, I couldn’t wait to be an adult. I’d be free to do anything I wanted. My life would be perfect.

I’d have a car to go anywhere I desired. There would be no more asking permission, and no more curfews. I’d take trips to the beach on the weekend, or perhaps the mountains.

I’d own a fancy condo or apartment that I could decorate any way I wanted. After all, I’d be making money.

Thirty plus years later, and several months before my fiftieth birthday, I’ve experienced every thing that I wished for. In addition to mortgage payments, bills, health issues, house and car repairs. All of those things that come with adulthood, but no one ever told us about.

After a recent trip to the grocery store, I was recording my transaction into my check register.  I glanced toward the bottom of the receipt to get the total, and there it was…SENIOR CITIZEN DISCOUNT. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but since I was wearing my bifocals, I knew it was true. The young cashier gave me a senior discount.

Derek said she probably gave me the discount because I was nice to her.

Hum, I wonder…

When you were a teenager, were you anxious to become an adult?


A Child’s Plea

Image Courtesy of morguefile.com

Image Courtesy of morguefile.com

Dear Mom,

I feel so much better today my throat doesn’t hurt and when I cough it is not crupy anymore, aren’t you glad! I know you will say no but can I go out in the snow please! Let me cough for you and show you it isn’t crupy! Please!

Love, Your Better Kid Jill

P.S. This will probably be the only good snow we have all year!

P.S. I Love You!! Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

During my parent’s recent move, I found this note. I wrote it when I was eleven years old. Aside from misspelling the word ‘croupy’ and the use of exclamation points, rather than question marks, I think I stated my case rather well.

Discovering this faded note brought a smile to my face. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get a very good photo.


Have you ever discovered something from your past that triggered a flood of memories?


Silly Wabbit

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

When I was a child, I was very shy. I had friends, but I was much better one on one, than in a group situation. “Jill gets along well with others, but she’s very quiet and shy.” This was a comment written on my report card by my first grade teacher.

I think one reason why I was so quiet was because I had a speech impediment. It wasn’t anything major, but to a little girl trying to fit in, it made me very self-conscious.

My problem was with the letter R. I just couldn’t say it. Rabbit was wabbit. Roll was woll. I remember one day, I was playing outside with my sister and her friends, we were having so much fun. The fun was spoiled when my sister’s friend asked, “Jill, where do we go to get ice cream?” I replied, “At the cor-nor.” They all laughed because I couldn’t say “corner.” I ran home and cried, and wished I could talk normal.

At some point during the first grade, my parents and my teacher decided I needed speech therapy. I recall the giggles from my classmates when the therapist came into the room to take me to my session. “She has to learn to talk,” was whispered by one boy, but loud enough for me to hear.

I don’t remember a lot about the sessions, but I do remember one speech exercise in particular. I put my tongue in the middle of the roof of my mouth and rolled it, to make the rrrrrrrrrr sound over and over. I also read flash cards with words containing the letter R.

In time, I learned to pronounce words with the letter R just like everyone else. The teasing stopped, but my shyness remained.

Did something make you self-conscious as a child?


A New Day

Image courtesy of morguefile.com

Image courtesy of morguefile.com

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who discovered books could take her to faraway places. She could meet people and animals that she could never meet in the real world. She would go off to her room with a book, and experience exciting adventures.

As she grew, she realized she could create her own stories. Her joy of writing blossomed. Writing for pleasure provided peace, in a hectic world. One day, she decided to submit her writing to a contest. The results were encouraging, so she continued to write.

Recently, questions flooded her mind. Why was she writing? Why was she blogging? What was the point of it all? Yes, she loved to write, but she was feeling overwhelmed. Her peaceful writing world was slipping away. As her peace diminished, self-doubt took hold and began to steal her joy.

Yesterday, that girl received an e-mail from an editor. The encouraging words within the e-mail reminded her of why she wrote. The perfect timing of this email was an answer to all of her questions. She was ready to walk away. Instead, empowering words from a stranger, told her to keep writing.

Self-doubt can paralyze our creativity. Our dreams and goals are uniquely ours. Continue to do what gives you joy and push away the self-doubt, and it will make you stronger. And most importantly, surround yourself with people who constantly encourage you…thank you, Derek, Mom, Dad and Jan.

I’m curious, what’s your secret weapon to deal with self-doubt?


Penny Candy

Image courtesy of morguefile.com

Image courtesy of morguefile.com

Growing up, Saturday was haircut day for my father. My sister and I loved to tag along to the Barber Shop. We didn’t go because we liked to hang out with a bunch of old guys, we went because Ben Franklin was next door and they sold penny candy. If you’re not familiar with the concept, penny candy was sold as individual pieces, rather than a larger package.

The cashier provided me and my sister with a brown lunch bag. Once my father gave us each fifty cents, we were set. I remember the excitement I felt as I strolled down the aisle. My eyes scanned the bins that held a variety of candies, so many choices for a child.

One of my favorite candies was the Jolly Rancher. It was a hard and somewhat sticky candy. It came in a variety of flavors of grape, apple, cherry, watermelon and raspberry. Cherry was the best.

Smarties were another favorite. The small pastel colored wafers tasted sweet at first, but then they tasted tart. The great thing about using one penny to purchase Smarties was that each roll had around fifteen or so wafers. Even as a child, I was a smart shopper.

Despite all of the mouth-watering and cavity causing candies to choose from, the majority of my fifty cents went toward my all-time favorite candy, the Atomic Fireball. This candy would set your mouth on fire. I remember having contests with my sister and friends to see who could hold it in their mouth the longest. To say Fireballs were hot was an understatement, but if you could survive the heat, you arrived at a sweet layer of rock hard sugar.

The days of penny candy have long passed, but the memories remain. I still enjoy an occasional Fireball now and then, but they don’t seem as hot as when I was a kid.

Did you have a favorite candy as a kid?


Nice to Meet You

Image Courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Image Courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

I always love to hear stories of how couples met. My good friend met her husband years ago through a personal ad in the newspaper. This was long before Match.com or other dating websites. They’ve been together for over twenty years.

My parents met while on a double date. My father was actually my mother’s friend’s date. When my mother tells the story, my father was driving and as she and her date sat in the backseat, my father kept giving her the “eye” in his rear view mirror. Of course my father’s story is different, she was eyeing him.

Derek and I worked in the same building for over three years before we met. He was one floor above, working as a loan officer. I was below, working for a law firm. We never met. I always took the stairs and he rode the elevator, so there was never an opportunity for a chance encounter.

One night, my girlfriend and I went out to a local bar to listen to some music. When I spied Derek walking by I mentioned to my friend that he looked like my high school crush. Sometime later, Derek approached me and we talked until the bar closed. He asked for my phone number and as they say, the rest is history.

Meeting in a bar doesn’t make for the greatest, “How we met story.” I do think it’s interesting that Derek worked one floor above me for three years without us ever meeting until that night.

I would love to hear your, “How we met story.” Let’s share how we met our husbands, wives, partners, significant others, best friend, etc.

Happy Valentine’s Day!


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