Generally, I am not an insecure person. I try not to have a false sense of humility about my abilities either. I do, on occasion, have a difficult time accepting compliments.
Once in a while, someone comes along, and you simply have to say thank you to what they have to say. Anne is one of those people.
Meet Anne Feeney. One of maybe a thousand or so people through the door of the Victorian Motel this summer. A guest and her family who definitely fit the low maintenance category. What’s unique about Anne is her encouraging demeanor. Unbeknownst to me, Anne had been reading my blog and a few articles I had written for the local Star and Wave newspaper.
Anne is the daughter of Harry Feeney. Harry was described as the “scrappy Irish reporter” that is largely credited with the phrase: “Murder incorporated.” Upon checking in at the motel, Anne announced that she loved reading my articles in the paper. “But Anne, you live in Brooklyn,” I replied.
It turns out she subscribes to several printed publications from Cape May. Anne is from a generation of folks who only read what is in print (and selected blog posts). Newspapers are in her blood she says. Anne’s father spent most of his career at the World-Telegram in New York City. He taught Anne to read newspapers and to this day she still does, including the papers and magazines from Cape May.
Through-out June, I blogged everyday in an online challenge called the Blogathon. Lately work got in the way of the regular blogging. And then along comes Anne. Like a shot of epinephrine to jump-start things. Thanks Anne!