typewriter_legswtypewriter_sample_img_2As owner of JLM’s Garden, LLC I write life stories for clients and other things too (see categories/contact above). It was after my first client, years ago now, that I came to realize the value of the story within the life. Now I think of it this way: Everyone wants at least one moment on life’s stage to know they matter to a world that doesn’t even know their name.

My current project is the unraveling of five notebooks that must conclude as a cohesive creative non-fiction story of an 1800’s trapper, army scout & pioneer.

No story is a standalone and this one introduced me to a Shoshone woman named Meeteetse. Not unlike Sacagawea—who served as guide to the Lewis and Clark Expedition—Meeteetse also served: in the everyday life of the fur trappers.

As I wrote it struck me that there is a synchronicity that flows throughout the stories of Sacagawea (Circa 1787-1812) and Meeteetse (Circa 1838-1896). Two necessary Shoshone women who helped colonize what would become the United States of America. And who set the stage for other women whose names we shall never know; let alone their story.


Do you ever awaken at three in the morning with a trainload of words and ideas racing past your awareness? I do, and there is never a conductor onboard to pull the whistle warning me of the potential danger. It is from this place of disorder that I typically write my blogs. It is also a place where I sort, keep or throw away what is my past.

I find this bewitching hour forces me to look directly into the mirror and reflect back what I see. Like the story of the Widows of India (OWN – Oprah Winfrey in India). In the intrinsic way of life around the world, women are still a lesser amount of worth. I don’t quarrel with what is that I alone cannot repair. Yet, I am free to experience and articulate my place from the tongue of an American Woman. Are we blessed, you better believe it!

I also sorted, as cunning as the Sorting Hat of Harry Potter, to let go of what is not and live in what is: spiritually, emotionally and physically. I’m not 40, 50 or 60 so this requires a lot of readjusting to the mirror of my life.

The next time I awaken to a cacophony of birds and disharmonious thoughts, I’ll try to remember this blog. And My Sisters, let us never forget one another.