My Basketball Man: A Poetic Tribute

There he goes

Look at him now

Moving across the floor

Dribbling that ball

Passing it. Wow!

He just scored two more.

He’s my basketball man

Moving as fast as he can

Those rippling muscles

That flash of tan.

There goes my basketball man.

I wrote the above poem during a time when our high school basketball team was in tournaments. I loved that squeak of basketball shoes on the gym floor, the fast pace (and it didn’t hurt that some of the players were good-looking).

I didn’t show anyone the poem then. I hadn’t remembered it much until this week.

I didn’t date in high school. One or two dates the summer before my senior with someone who didn’t go to the same school I did, but I usually don’t count that. (Mostly because I feel bad for the way I ended it).

Leaving high school insecurities behind, I went away to a Christian college. There, I was asked out by a few different guys. I went out with whoever asked me, finding dating in the protective climate fun.

A college junior who was on the basketball team asked me out. I accepted. He was 6’6″ tall. I remember telling him guys back home didn’t grow that tall. He found something he liked in the country girl I was, and I became his girlfriend. The relationship never got off the ground. He ended it a few weeks later. I was hurt by the way he ended it, but I eventually bounced back.

I made some poor judgment calls when it came to dating, and I also went out with some nice young men.

But I didn’t find one that stuck.

Until I met my husband when I was 24. He was a year older. We married 10 months after we started dating.

He loved sports of all kinds.

Especially basketball. He enjoyed watching professional basketball on TV (along with every other sport).

He also played in a local league.

And with his brother and various friends, he entered 3-on-3 tournaments, some local and some with the Gus Macker games.

With him playing, I found that I enjoyed watching basketball again.

He really fit that poem I’d written in high school.

He moved fast across the court

he had skills with dribbling and shooting

and…

…well, he was tanned.

…and muscled.

A very good-looking man.

As we grew older, he quit playing basketball and started golfing, more of an “old man’s” sport.

But he never lost his love of the game.

And I never lost my love for him.

It’s been a while since I’ve watched a game in person, and I’m not much of a TV sports fan. But I have great memories of watching him.

My basketball man.

I share this because today is his birthday. He would have been 62 this year. He’s forever young in my memory.

From Country Roots to New Dreams: A Spiritual Reflection

This post was previously published in October 2024 under Sweaters and Knee Socks.

Today I’ve added an update to the original post to share how God has directed my path.

Sweaters and Knee Socks

I grew up in a family that didn’t have much money for extras. We didn’t buy name brand clothes. We shopped at garage sales before it became popular. Mom made sure we had a couple of new outfits for school each fall and new dresses for Christmas and Easter. Sometimes they were homemade.

Fashion was all about Izods and Calvin Kleins when I was in high school. I don’t think not having name brand jeans and shirts really mattered to me. But one trend I wanted to have so badly was a wool skirt with a wool sweater and knee socks. That outfit was really popular and something I yearned for.

My senior year, a cousin bought me a wool sweater for Christmas and my aunt paid me in wool skirts for babysitting her boys. When I went off to college that fall, I was ready to be in style.

Only people in college didn’t dress that way.

I had missed out on wearing the trend. Now my clothes were out of style at the small college I went to.

My country roots were showing.

(Things got better at the end of my freshman year when a settlement from a driver’s ed car accident came through, giving me spending money above what my college costs were. I bought parachute pants. {Cringe} I actually wore them!)

However, the outdated style didn’t stop me from making friends and experiencing some of the fun the conservative college offered.

One experience I remember well early on in my freshman year was a spiritual retreat. I don’t know where the campground was, but the girls’ bathroom were all open-stall toilets. Needless to say, I didn’t feel the urge to go.

There were also really tall, old growth trees. When we all took a walk through the trees, the leader told us to lay down on the ground and look up. I still remember how majestic the treetops looked from that point of view.

Experiences like this spiritual retreat helped cement the faith that I had experienced in high school and made me a stronger Christian. A sophomore year trip to Mexico gave me new confidence.

I began to walk my own path. Things that had mattered before weren’t important anymore. I had new plans, new dreams.

Forty years have gone by since my college days. (Yikes, I’m THAT old!)

I felt recently like I have finally “come into my own.” I had confidence in myself and in my plans.

Then news I hadn’t expected put a roadblock in my path and I’m not sure what the future holds for me.

I love this verse and have had it memorized since I was a teen:

Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”

As I have done for most of my life, in these moments I put my faith in the Maker of Heaven and Earth, the Father who created me and loves me. He will direct my paths. The NIV says, “He will make your paths straight.” I like that translation also.

I am praying and waiting to see what He will do, even as I take each step that I know is right for that moment. No, I can’t see ahead, but that’s okay. He will make my way straight and clear.

Now thinking back to that long-ago retreat, I realize I am not the same person. I have a deeper, abiding faith and more life experiences to know that God will, indeed, fulfill the promise in Proverbs 3:5-6. As I trust in Him, He shall direct my path.

And I realize that if I were to lie on the ground and look up at the treetops, I wouldn’t be able to get back up! (Not gracefully, anyway).

Update: February 9, 2026

More than a year has passed. I wasn’t shown a direct path after I posted the original. I tried a couple of things that didn’t work out to my benefit. One endeavor was partially responsible for a mental health crisis mid-summer. It took 3-4 months for my mental health to stabilize. I didn’t work on anything during that time.

In December, I set up a booth at a local event in the school I used to attend. From the sales that day and contacts made that month, I sold 32 books. The most I’ve ever sold in one month.

The New Year didn’t start on a very positive note, but my mental health had improved. I spent two lovely days with my sisters. Then I started to feel the depression and the wait of some of my grief coming back. I made an appointment with my counselor. However, a few days before I saw her, inspiration came to me for my writing projects.

It feels good to be inspired and even better, to see some of my dreams for my writing come to fruition.

I will publish 4-5 new books in 2026. Maybe more as God directs and finances come through.

My faith in God is stronger than ever. I feel very blessed.

Balancing Writing and Life: Tips from Allison Pearl

Good morning, today I’m interviewing author Allison Pearl.

Allison, thank you for being a guest on my blog.

Let’s start with you telling us a little bit about yourself.

Hi! I’m Allison Pearl, a Romantic Suspense and Cozy Mystery writer. I love writing about close-knit worlds in both small towns and big cities inspired by the many different locations in which I’ve lived. When not plotting fictional crimes, I run an online book club (https://allison-pearl.com/allisons-book-club/) and regularly release a newsletter (https://allison-pearl.com/home/newsletter-signup/) with bookish blog posts, giveaways, and reading updates.

What is your book about?

Battered & Torn centers on Nora, a woman hiding from a murderous family while working at a billionaire’s estate, and Archie, the guarded heir who can’t ignore his growing attraction or the secrets surrounding her. As their connection deepens and danger closes in, trusting each other could lead them to the truth or cost them everything, including their lives.

Do you have a day job? If so, how do you find time in your day to write?

During my non-fiction writing hours, I write executive resumes and social media content for professionals looking to transition to a new role. Finding time to write fiction is not easy, and based on my progress balancing both, I only have bad advice 😉 I’ve tried better scheduling, getting up earlier, and more, with unpredictable success. What works today often doesn’t work tomorrow. At the end of the day, I just try to write when I can.

Are you a night owl or morning person?

Definitely not a morning person, but not the most successful night owl either given how much I love an early bedtime. I have some concentration and attention issues that make consistency a challenge which means everyday seems like a new game plan. The older I get, the more I realize that the harder I try to put myself in a box or rigid schedule, the quicker I fail. Ultimately, I’ve learned to give myself permission to adapt day by day.

That’s great advice for all of us.

Are you a plotter or a panster?

Definitely a pantser. I have so much respect for writers who plan and wish I could be them when I grow up, but I just end up turning story plotting into procrastination and avoidance. The only reason my books get finished is because I sit down, start writing, and see what happens. Honestly, my plot twists shock me as much as they shock my readers.

Do you experience writer’s block? What do you do to get through it?

All the time. How I get through it changes case by case, but one strategy I always try when I’m really stuck is good old pen and paper. I close my laptop, sit down with a notebook, and just start writing something. I don’t know why it works for me, but something about writing that way always helps me find my way out of whatever maze I’ve trapped myself in.

Another great tip!

Do you reward yourself when a book is finished? If so, what is your favorite treat?

Sometimes, I reward myself for finishing a chapter 😉 Some days the words come easily, while other days you have to fight for every one of them, so rewards feel like a necessity. I’ll usually go grab a treat or a coffee, or sometimes even take a walk around the store.

What does your family think of your writing?

I think their reactions usually fall somewhere between pride and confusion. Let’s just say a snarky, sailor-mouthed woman revealing a career writing faith-based romantic suspense may have seemed a little inexplicable, but despite the confusion, my family has been incredibly supportive and the best marketing team a person could have.

Allison, it was really great chatting with you.

What’s next for you as an author?

Right now, I’m working on the start of a cozy mystery series about a Pittsburgh-based mobile bookstore owner who has a knack for continually finding herself in trouble.

And before we go, where can readers find you online?

Readers can find me online at allison-pearl.com, where I share book updates, blog posts, giveaways, and newsletter sign-ups, as well as on social media under my author name, Allison Pearl.

From Hiatus to Inspiration: A Novelist’s Revival

In 2018, I began a story about a hometown football player and the valedictorian meeting up at their 15-year class reunion. Then I wrote a sequel to it. I went on to rewrite two contemporary novels from the past. In 2019 I signed a contract for my first holiday novella, then for the Reluctant Billionaire. In 2021 I signed a contract for the sequel holiday novella. I wrote another full-length contemporary that my editor rejected. I understood, it wasn’t ready for publication yet.

I didn’t write any fiction for a few years.

During that hiatus from fiction writing, I volunteered in children’s ministry at my local church. I created and wrote the curriculum we used for about 2 1/2 years. Then I couldn’t do it anymore. I lost my focus. I loved the children but I couldn’t keep up.

In 2024 I wrote my Thanksgiving novella and signed a contract for it. However, the publisher closed its doors before it could be published.

Last year, in 2025, I published that book, and no others. I had covers updated for the Courage series and the Billionaire story. I made a few sales, which equaled new readers. I had also taken a break from posting on my blog.

A few weeks ago I felt myself drifting into depression. Post holiday blues, cold weather, “stuck” at home. Then a couple of weeks ago I had spent two days with my sisters. We ate together, thrift shopped, laughed and I think there might have been a few tears. It was a welcome break in the middle of a hard month.

Last week I felt the weight of the month of February with all of its memorial dates: Pat’s birthday, Valentine’s Day, our anniversary all coming up in the first half of the month. So many memories of times spent together, the love we shared and the years after my loss.

So I made an appointment to see my counselor. I will go in this afternoon. I’ll talk to her about the hard days coming up, how I’ve been feeling the blues. She doesn’t tell me what to do, but she helps me see clearly so I know what I need to do to make things better.

Then on Sunday, maybe Saturday?

Inspiration hit.

First, I finished up the edits on that story about the quarterback and valedictorian. I hope to publish it this month and have printed copies available in March.

I hired a local editor to work on the second book about the quarterback’s brother.

I also hired the cover design for the second book.

I hope to have that book published and available in April.

I pulled up a book that I wrote years ago. At the time, we had received a used computer from a friend. I wrote 72 pages in three days. Then several years passed before I finished it.

Creative writing in the 21st century is very different from the 1900s. I’ve learned many things through the editing process with my previous publisher and editor. I am so thankful for those opportunities and what I’ve been able to put into practice.

I started editing the story, The Love We Knew, yesterday and woke up this morning excited to work on it again. It is on the schedule for publication in May.

I also dusted off the beach romance that was rejected to see if I could make it better.

I’m writing a sequel to the Lessons from Garage Sales book which will be called, Contentment at Home. Something I struggled with most of my married life and child-raising years.

Life has its twists and turns, its storms and quiet times, seasons of grief and mountaintops of joy. I am thankful that God has brought me through each moment. His grace has made living my life to the fullest possible.

I’m especially grateful that the inspiration to write has come to me again, even out of the gray and depressing month that I just passed through, and knowing the difficult days that lie ahead.

Here’s a look at the cover for the story about the high school reunion:

Lessons Learned from a Winter Storm Experience

Brrrrrr.

Cold. Bitter cold hit my area this weekend. Temps were in the negative Teens.

I did what I was supposed to in the event of freezing temperatures. I ran a trickle of water in all of my faucets.

I didn’t count on our propopane furnace stopping…Stopping…Starting…Stopping…Starting.

Worried that this was a potential safety issue, I called a heating and cooling company. The first one was overwhelmed with work orders and couldn’t get to us. I felt sorry for them, to have to repair furnaces in freezing temperatures.

The second one I called fit us into our schedule. (They were able to call in extra help).

The repair tech came out and looked everything over.

It boiled down (like what I did there?) to the fact that our furnace, built for modular homes, was not intended to work in below-0 temperatures.

(Well, neither are most people.)

The repair tech left, after a bill for an emergency call (Ouch. But who can blame them? Again, freezing temperatures).

My brother loaned us a space heater and we got the temperature in the house raised. The furnace kicked in and stayed on.

In the meantime, however, the pipes to the shower and toilet in the master bathroom (the farthest away from the furnace) froze. Fortunately we have another bathroom with a working toilet and shower, but it wasn’t MY shower, and I didn’t want to use it. So I didn’t.

Then my brother (the most helpful person I know) came over and put the bullet heater on the pipes in the basement, thawing them out.

The heater worked on the pipes, unfreezing them.

This morning, I am thankful for a hot shower.

I’ve taken showers that were not hot and some that were in odd places.

Let me explain.

As a college sophomore, I went on a trip to Mexico with a school group. During our trip, we stayed in a small town and did some mission work.

The home we stayed in had a working bathroom, but you had to go through a gate into the backyard, where there were open stalls.
A privacy fence surrounded the yard, but you had to share the open space with a big pig (no lie!) and a rooster.

Needless to say, I used the bathroom for necessities, sparingly, but chose not to shower. Instead, I washed my hair under an outdoor faucet.

A few years later, I again visited Mexico, and this time stayed with a wealthy family. Their shower was tiled and open, and private. It was beautiful, but only cold water came from it. This was in the winter time, so it wasn’t pleasant.

Later, I shared an apartment in the city with two housemates. We had our own bedrooms and paid individual rental fees, but we shared a kitchenette and a bathroom with an antique clawfoot tub. No shower.

There was a shower available to us, but you had to go down the stairs, outside, into a back door, down another flight of stairs into a laundry room (that locked, thank goodness) where there was a shower stall.

All of these were odd situations, and looking back, these make me even more thankful for a private shower in my home with hot water.

At Christmas time ten or so years ago, our power went out. Family brought over a generator, on Christmas Eve, to help me out. Before they could plug it in, the power came back on, and stayed on.

We’ve been blessed in our neighborhood because the power company put in new lines a few years ago and a power outage, of more than a couple of hours, is rare.

The new reports say with this recent winter storm there were at least 7 deaths caused by weather. There were thousands of flights canceled and massive power outages. Indeed, I feel very blessed.

Wherever you are reading this from, I pray that you will find be safe, warm and have no ill effects from the storm.

Although this photo looks just like my cat, Elsa, this is not her.

But Elsa was named after the queen in the Frozen movie.

Seemed appropriate with the frozen temperatures and snow and ice.