Seedlings in Stone

On, In, and Around Mondays: Walk in the Woods

We stepped onto the pine needles, in a slice of woods barely qualifying to be called woods.

"It's like a carpet," my girl said.

"Yes, I used to walk such woods. My sister and I. How we loved the pine needles so soft under our feet! We could go as far as the eye could see under a thousand trees. It was our secret place."

My daughters' eyes get wider. Is there such a place on earth? They want to believe it, even though we are standing only in a slice, a suggestion of the possible.

They begin to spring up and down, testing a life I can only suggest to them with my tellings.

I can tell of other woods too, like the ones in the photo above. I can give you a slice. This is what I do as a writer. I tell you something you might want to believe. I give you a suggestion of the possible.

It is up to you to go there, if I can just give you a place to spring from. We work together, you and I.

_____

On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: family stories, On in and Around Mondays, writing

On, In, and Around Mondays: The Questionable School Choice

"Sometime I want to hear how distance-learning has gone for your daughter this year," she wrote.

I am not sure what to say.

On the floor are three copies of Machiavelli's The Prince. Different versions, for comparison. My girl ordered them from the library after reading an excerpt in her history text.

We never really used texts before this year, but the distance-learning school uses them. So here we are. With the exception of Biology, it seems to me that the real learning still seems to be happening on my girl's own terms. Machiavelli, times three.

The distance-learning school assigns essays. She writes them because she has to; they are usually bare reflections of her true capabilities. And yet, last night, after she walked at sunset by herself, she came home and spent two hours in vigorous essay writing. I saw her consulting books, flipping from here to there, happily engrossed.

My girls have been home educated their whole lives, but for high school I simply didn't feel like keeping the transcripts, proving the learning, in the ways I would need to do for the girls to apply for college. Distance-learning seemed to be the happiest medium we might find.

One of my favorite librarians asked me the other day if my girl still writes the way she always did. I had to say no, she does not. She doesn't have the time. A little piece of my heart broke in the telling.

How is the distance-learning going? It's hard to say. There've been losses I find it hard to live with. Still, my girl found Machiavelli in her history text. And she says the writing is beautiful.

That's what I'm counting on, in the end. That the center she's been given all these years will help her to find the beautiful, to make her own way, even when her reality doesn't feel ideal.

_______

On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

If you could kindly link back here when you post, it will create a central meeting place. :)

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Labels: family stories, home education

On, In, and Around Mondays: Operation Memory Delivery

"We'll be there in 20 minutes," they said.

I hung up the phone.

"Can you help me move all these books, Honey?" I said to my Littlest. "They're delivering the couch very soon."

She helped me stack and restack the many books we have on the floor near the couch. This is where my Eldest camps out every day, reading, doing her school stuff, making short movies of Spock and Kirk lip-synching things like Mozart's Requiem.

When the stacking was finished, I stayed on alone, and my girl went upstairs to cry.

The delivery guys came and went. The couch looked lovely, but wrong, of course.

Where was the couch on which I'd nursed my girls, taught them to read, watched Merlin in the dark... with the curtains drawn for extra mystery? Out on the sidewalk, soaking up rain.

My girl came back downstairs and cried some more. "It's ugly!" she complained. "I'm never going to sit on it. Not in my whole life." Then she wailed, "It has no memories!"

"We'll have to make some memories."

"I wouldn't make a single memory on a thing like that," she complained again.

She just about wore me down with all her couch-mourning, and I said as much. Then I went upstairs, because it's hard for me to absorb such strong emotions after a while.

About ten minutes later, we passed each other on the red oak stairs, and she took me aside and whispered, "I stood on the arm of the couch."

I gave her one of those looks.

"Then I jumped!" she said.

"Don't tell me that. I don't want to know," I hugged her.

She hugged me back and said, "I'm just making some memories." Then she walked away, and said over her shoulder, "I might do it again tomorrow."

I shook my head and thought, what am I going to do with that girl.

_______

On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: family stories, On in and Around Mondays

On, in, and Around Mondays: When the Gift Knows What You Need

Every morning I would make tea, in an individual teapot.

Every morning, my older daughter would come by surreptitiously and steal-away with some of the tea.

"Hey, did you take my tea?" I'd say, and laugh, when I'd gone back for more tea and found my teapot wanting.

Then I received a casual teapot for Christmas. Full-sized and cheery, it sat on the counter. Until one day it occurred to me... why, yes, I could make a whole pot of tea every morning, couldn't I.

So I started to do that, and it quickly became a new ritual. And even my younger daughter now has tea every morning.

I started thinking about this phenomenon the other day—how the addition of something we didn't know we wanted or needed can change our lives in the most delightful ways. For my younger daughter, it has been not so much the teapot as her new journal. Every day, she makes clothing designs in it. This has become her new ritual.

I am not sure we can make these things happen. It's as if the gift has to arrive, for the unperceived need to become apparent.

As for me, I accept the serendipity. Especially if it comes with tea.
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On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: family stories, On in and Around Mondays

On, In, and Around Mondays: Delivering Happiness

A sense of control, plus...

A sense of progress, plus...

Connectedness, plus...

Meaning...

Equals: happiness.

Could it be that simple?

Last night it was. The girls and I decided (control) to watch Merlin together. They've been wanting me to see all the episodes. It's like our little secret. A life of story we are building together (meaning).

We pulled the curtains closed. Shut out the night (progress).

We pulled each other close on the couch, where my Littlest leaned into me (connectedness).

The music, the visions of knights and ladies, a cup of life lost, a kingdom overtaken. Together, we watched. It was nothing fancy. It didn't cost us anything but time and decision.

What would it take to deliver just a little happiness like this each day? Can it be that hard?

_______

On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: Delivering Happiness, family stories, On in and Around Mondays

On, In, and Around Mondays: Hug to Creativity

She wanted to go away. Asked me to come and watch her children.

I said yes. I rarely see my nieces and nephews.

It is good that she went away, because that meant I went too— away, to a life so different from mine.

My favorite moments were the ones with the baby. I haven't had babies for a long time. I don't particularly want the work of babies anymore.

But this.

A baby in the lap, blue eyes searching mine. A baby in the lap, playing with my mauve shawl.

"Shawl," I say to her. She pulls it open. Pushes it shut. Manages a sound something close to "sh," but not quite.

I touch her shirt. "Shirt," I say. She touches her shirt. I touch my shirt. "Shirt," I say again. She ventures another "sh."

She lifts her shirt and a white belly sticks out, baby fat. "Belly," I say. She touches her belly, then leans her head against my chest in a sweet baby hug.

We do this again and again. The eyes searching, the shawl opening and closing, the shirts and the belly. The tries at "sh." The hugs.

I kiss her face over and again, and I feel something inside me pulling apart, opening. A creative space. A loving space. Something like a shawl opening and closing around another person. And I feel full. So, so full.

_______

On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: creativity, family stories, On in and Around Mondays

On, In, and Around Mondays: Marketing to Your Sister

I am remembering an afternoon when my Littlest wanted her sister's attention.

She chit chatted, poked, whirled. Nothing worked.

So she stole away and found a Shel Silverstein poetry book. Then, she looked up an excerpt of Sherlock Holmes on the Internet and translated it into Italian (goodness only knows why! :) Then she printed the translation and carefully trimmed it, so the size would fit nicely into Mr. Silverstein's pages.

"Look," she held the book under Sara's nose.

Now this was something that warranted a glance. A book!

Sara opened Shel, and Sonia helped her flip to the Italian Sherlock Holmes tucked within.

"That is so cool," Sara said, when she realized what Sonia had done. After all, Sara loves Holmes, even, I guess, if he's speaking Italian.

I sat on my bed and chuckled. Now that, I thought, is how you market to your sister.

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Do you have an amusing event, or some simple thoughts on laughter? It needn't be laugh-out-loud funny. We would be happy to have you share a chuckle. Check out our Laughter Writing Project, at The High Calling.
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On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: family stories, On in and Around Mondays, thehighcalling.org

On, In, and Around Mondays: What's Your Geography?

"We each have a personal geography," I wrote in Rumors of Water.

I think of this today, as Sara sits at the dining room table, reading her new history book. Before reading, she looks at the pictures. That's my girl. Pictures are part of her personal geography. She's been looking closely at art since she was a little girl. She thinks in pictures, can explain the world in images. Maps are a favorite. So are diagrams.

Yesterday we went to Linsay's farm. I brought the new book along to show her, since her teapot tree and strawberries and duck eggs are part of the story I wove together. She turned the book over to get a closer look at Sonia's designs. "They look like henna!" she exclaimed. I hadn't thought of it that way, but of course they do. Sonia has seen henna designs on the hands of the women at many a family wedding. These are part of her family geography.

Today I sit outdoors to type. My yard is wild, the grass going to seed. Honeysuckle, jewelweed, and purple clover are full with bees gathering nectar. This yard has a geography that is, for the most part, characteristic of a Northeastern yard; its plants are regional, but its wildness owes a little to my own childhood geography: I traversed fields for hours on end, feeling the freedom of bent grasses and blue skies.

You have a geography too. Personal, familial, regional. Are you letting it design your words?

________

On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: family stories, Rumors of Water, writing

Rumors Together

I put the first copy in my bag, wanted to bring it along to show my sister.

About an hour into the trip, I heard my girl laughing in the back seat.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"Your book," she said.

She'd quietly pulled it from the bag when I wasn't looking. I'd been driving, listening to music, admiring the field grasses now purpling at their tips. I'd been noticing twin bright lemon butterflies dancing on air, and I'd been feeling a longing for the connection that these air-dancers seemed to speak of.

My girl read the whole way, sometimes laughing, sometimes pausing to tell me more about some story I'd told (and had only known the half of).

When I pulled into my sister's driveway and turned off the car, my girl didn't move. "We're here," I encouraged her, wanting her to put the book down.

"I'm on the last page," she said.

I waited quietly, looking out into the pines and the wild-flower yard.

"It's not exactly what happened," she said. "But it's perfect."

"I understand," I said. Then I whispered the last line of the book to her and added, "It's for you too, you know, not just for Sonia. It's my love letter to both of you."

She leaned forward and hugged me, and we sat there holding each other for a long moment. My heart, in its way, danced butterfly-bright on air.

_____

Available at Amazon Retail.

Floral designs by Sonia, 11. Sara in the car (snapped in transit... I pointed the camera backwards, clicked, and hoped for the best :)

Labels: family stories, Rumors of Water

On, In, and Around Mondays: What's Your Klout?

Last week, my High Calling team got into a conversation about Klout. I went to the Klout website to see what the buzz was about...

"Everyone has Klout. Discover yours," says the site tagline.

I thought about this a lot. Klout's definition of clout is something like... how much you tweet and Facebook and get retweeted and shared. It's about who you influence and whether someone "important" influences you. Klout can even put a number on it.

But a number can't describe depth of influence. It can't say who is actually changed by knowing me (or you). And it can't measure how.

On Sunday, because of the hurricane, I stayed home with the girls. Sara had recently told me she misses how we used to learn hymns together. I never would have known, if she hadn't spoken up.

So here we were home on a Sunday, and the logical thing presented itself to me: why not learn a hymn together?

"Could you be our researcher?" I asked Sonia.

"What do you mean?"

I asked her to find out more about the hymn writer's life, the music, the history, the symbols. I think I'll write about that over at Love Notes to Yahweh; after all, she did teach us some very interesting things, some of which I suspect she and her sister will carry forward into their lives.

Mostly, this rich hymn experience on a rainy Sunday morning reminded me that clout cannot truly be measured. Mine, Sonia's, or yours. We never know what the influence of our words, our hands, our song might be on even one heart. It cannot be tracked like a tweet or a Facebook share.

________

On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

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Labels: family stories, klout, On in and Around Mondays

On, In, and Around Mondays: When the Compass Tilts

"It's a beautiful place," I told my girls. "Antiques, flowers, classical music. A painted chess board in the sitting room."

They were intrigued.

"The tea is delicious. And the breakfast is simple but elegant."

They were ready to go.

"Because I made the reservations late, they actually threw in a room just for you girls. You'll have your own."

It would be our follow-up vacation to last week's few days in New York City. This time we'd go back to Manhattan, but to a quieter place. A place I love and wanted to share with my girls.

"She's going in for a bypass."

I got the call. We turned our car north, instead of hopping on a train south.

"We'll go to the hotel with the fun breakfast," I told the girls. (Holiday Inn Express!) "It has a pool, remember? We'll be together. You'll see your cousins."

(Bypass, six-way. It was a silent heart attack. She's a good candidate for surgery.)

I canceled the antiques, the tea, the chess table. I embraced the visits, the drive, the thought of being, perhaps, a comfort to my mother.

The girls got an unexpected invitation to my Aunt's house. "You'll love it," I told them. "It's, I don't know how to describe it. It's whimsical. It's eclectic. It's like your own personal art museum."

My Aunt taught the girls a glass-painting and transfer technique. They had cream-cheese and jelly sandwiches together. They explored the gardens and played with the collie dog.

I spent days with my mother. More than I have in years. We began in silence, as she slept and recovered. But soon she regained her color, her voice. We spoke of her growing-up times. How had I missed that she grew up on a farm? We talked about how they ate duck eggs and walked the orchards in spring. "There's nothing like the smell of all those blossoms," she told me.

I felt I'd been propelled back in time. And somehow, forward.

The days passed. We turned our car back to the south. The girls, for the first time in a long time, sang together. A round.

Artwork and Home shots taken at the house of Gail Nadeau, by L.L. Barkat.

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On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

If you could kindly link back here when you post, it will create a central meeting place. :)

This post is also shared with Laura Boggess, for...

Labels: family stories, On in and Around Mondays