Shock the Pink Lady

Who will show them how to pull a bleeding heart blossom apart to expose the shocked pink lady taking a bath?

How will they know to pick a dandelion and smear a friend's chin with butter? 

Will they shell a pea? Pick daisies? 

If they don't get to help plant a garden, how will they understand the natural law of sowing and reaping?

Who will make a daisy chain for them? A flower crown? A May basket? 

Will they learn how to make a hollyhock lady with crinoline skirts? 

Will they ever see a cow milked or butter made? 

Will they be able to hold a chick or gather warm eggs? 

Who will build a driftwood fire that makes rainbows in the dark? 

Will they taste a s'mores roasted on a campfire? 

Will anyone take them tent camping? 

Who will let them iron hankies?  Give them leftover pie crust to make tarts? Let them have a hunk of bread dough to knead and watch rise? 

How will they learn to sew a button on? Make jewel toned jelly? Gravy? 

Will anyone lay with them and beg for falling stars? Show them cloud pictures? 

Will they understand wheat, milk, and meat isn't bad for us, it's how we alter it that makes it so?

Will they see animals mating, the miracle of birth, and the pure sweetness of nursing young?

Will they know what words like yeast, yoke, plow, harvest, reins, and honeycomb mean? 

Will anyone care that the swallows return every year and there are places where monarch butterflies stop to rest each migration? 

People want to save the world - keep it green they say. Might as well just color it a virtual green for us children who are only virtually experiencing it. Spectating instead of participating. 

X-box, Wii, Farmville, Bejeweled Blitz, FB, Twitter, Smart phones, Laptops, and every other electronic thing is powerfully stimulating and at times addicting. Even useful! 

But soul satisfying? Refreshing? Restorative? Playful? Intimate? Satisfying? 

Excerpt

Excerpt from The Goings on of Ordinary People ~ By Tessa Overby (a work in progress by my daughter, who makes me laugh on a regular basis)


"Before trying to sound cool, I've found it's always best to watch/read the rest of the story.

In this age of movies and music, the coolness factor is measure by how much you can quote. I have always strived to be one such afficionado, only to fail on numerous occasions by a fumbling tongue and lack of lightning speed wit.

We all know how it is when you have the biggest crush on a boy. I get a hand cramp from googling the last three lines of his favorite song at warp speed. This, so he might see how witty I can be. Never mind the let down he'll get when he actually marries me and finds out what a doof I am.

Let me confess; I've seen and done it all. Sometimes you learn when you're trying to impress a guy, not trying is better.

Our country's most beloved TV show for young adults is Friends. There's an episode where Phoebe (me) changes her name to get back at her husband. She changes it to Princess Consuella Banana Hammock. I laughed so hard at this, and didn't think I needed to watch the rest. Mistake.

I smiled to myself and decided to text the love of my life at that time. He didn't hardly know I breathed the same air as him. The text message read something like this; "you may now call me Princess Consuella Banana Hammock".

There was no reply to this seemingly witty message. A side note ~ this boy I was trying hard to win was on swim team.

I decided to text the same message to one of my girlfriends to see if it wasn't as funny as I thought. She replied,"do you know what a banana hammock is"?  I said, "no". She then told me.

Nothing could ever describe how much I wanted to change my name and run to Morocco. I wish I could say I never tried to foolishly impress a boy again, but the truth is, I'm human. I am learning to watch and listen to the full episode or song before trying to seem like another Gilmore Girl with fast comebacks and witty humor.'

Play Money

Gold and silver coins. Paper money. Currency. Tradeable. Exchangeable. Highly sought. Killed for. Fought for. Greed and jealousy stick to it sometimes.

I have found another kind of currency. It may fill pockets, but always hearts. 

I count my days with this other kind of currency.  Play money for the game of life from the Banker.

Monday was a three eagle day. Tuesday looked up twice towards falling stars. Wednesday was filled with seal conversation. Thursday rained pennies from heaven. Friday startled me with a double rainbow. Saturday tripped over heart shaped rocks. Sunday gave me a swing, the hammock of His hand.

Each trip has currency. On our last trip to Hawaii, I heard the mountains roar and spit fire, melting the sea. Once in Mexico I heard the rocks sing. My eyes have taken in grandeur that my heart didn't have the capacity to fully enjoy - yet. My body has felt love that was so deep, I felt taken from earth.

This kind of currency helps me keep afloat when the load seems extra heavy. As I pick up the pack for the day, I remember all the pockets of my heart are stuffed, not with heavy weight, but helium hope. Lifters. Baby joeys wriggling away in my kanga pouch. Every now and again a foot or a head pops out so I remember life is wonderful and I am grateful. I am the recipient of great goodness. Pregnant with it. A carrier.

Yet again, I come both boldly and shyly to ask for more  ~ "Open up the vaults of heaven". Greedy. Needy.

A Good One

When I went to Westport last week, a large tote of books came with me. One of them was Where the River Ends by Charles Martin.  When a novel breaks my heart good, and causes the tears to run, it's worth passing on.

Here are a few quotes that found a permanent page in my journal, I need them:


"What you got inside you is...is a well that bubbles up from way down deep. It's sweet water, too. But, sometimes wells run empty. If you ever get to hurting and all you feel is ache ~ you reach down and find your well empty, nothin' but dust ~ then you come back here...dive in and drink deeply."


"This river's taught me a good bit. Probably why I don't leave here. It winds, weaves, snakes around. Rarely goes the same way twice. But in the end, it always ends up in the same place and the gift is never the same."


"Some live well, some die well, but few love well."


"To love well ~ that's something else. It's a choosing ~ something done again and again and again. No matter what. And in my experience, if you so choose, you better be ready to suffer hell."


"If you want to make great art, something that can reach beyond time and space, find someone who isn't beautiful and show them that they are. Paint the broken, the unlovely...and make them believe."


Not once did they (her parents) think to ask Abbie, "What are you passionate about and how can I pour myself into your vision of you."


"You don't have to be beautiful to be beautiful." "Breathe."


"But time does heal, not like we think it does, not like we would ~ from the front~ but more from the back or side or someplace we can't see it coming. It bubbles up beneath and ruses all around. All of a sudden I dried my eyes long enough to look up, look beyond myself, and discovered my pain had become the sinew that hel me together. I stood on the bank, stared out across the vast epicenter of me and faced a choice ~ do I risk the river? So I cut the water, paddled out of my own black hole and discovered that the river was not one, but many, and like it or not, they all merge. Each turn, each bend, led to something beautiful, something whole, something worth remembering. Why? How? I can't answer that, I just know that."


"Tides ebb, rivers flow crooked, and love uses pain."


"Lord, Son of David, I want to see."

Charles Martin 

Finally Barefoot

Clinched around sand
buried deep in pleasure
indulge again child 

remember freedom 

crave it enough
 to shake off pack 

rid care tied heavy
 a breaking burden

trade in for moments
when cool sand
moist at first then dry
tingles

clings
 tickles
 falls away weightless
cleansing debris free and away

nature nurtures a cure
moves upwards from curled toes 

to soften heart
 bend mind
heal soul

Never underestimate the power of something as simple as sand between your toes. Pedicures are nice, this cure is nicer. Guess how I know? 

This was prompted by Bridget's hilarious post about dual his/her pedicures. I was out at the river barefoot for the first time, horrified at my winter feet and simultaneously delighted anyways, in spite of them. :) 

Spring Scrabble

Birthday Book by Sue

Susan made this wonderful chipboard book for my birthday. 

I want to share the loveliness. 

She is an artist. Also a poet, although she doesn't know this yet. 

We have been friends since we were nineteen. We are both 50 now.

We are complete opposites in every way; this is good. 

We are committed to being girlfriends forever.