Seedlings in Stone

On, In, and Around Mondays: Loving Like a Couch Potato

"Please?"

She's been following me around for days. Asking me to read the introduction to Sherlock Holmes. I don't really want to read the introduction to Sherlock Holmes. I keep putting it off.

The truth is, she doesn't want me to read the introduction. She wants me to read the whole thing. Both volumes. All six inches of detective capers.

I'm not much of a fiction reader. As fiction goes, I'm not much of a mystery reader. What are the chances?

Last night I settled down on the couch. Dim light played across dark green and cranberry paisley. What should I do? Sitting felt good. Maybe that's how I would spend this last hour of Sabbath-gone.

I noticed a notebook on the arm of the couch. I don't usually read my kids' notebooks— kind of a privacy thing. But this one was open. I scanned the page. It was a record of stories from Sherlock Holmes. There were lots of questions, probing questions, and descriptions of high points.

Flipping through, I discovered that the whole notebook was dedicated to Sherlock. Each story, beginning at story one, was commented upon, wrestled with, questioned, sometimes quoted. It was like an English teacher's dream.

The house was perfectly quiet. And suddenly I understood what love needed to do. I cracked open Volume I of Sherlock Holmes, paged to the first story, and began to read.

Somewhere around chapter two, I heard footsteps coming down the red oak stairs. Soft, soft. It was her. She'd been getting ready for bed, I guess, and seen the light.

Soon, her face was next to mine. She was smiling, and her eyes were bright, seeking.

"You're reading it?"

"I am."

She leaned into me, so warm, and her long dark hair fell across us both.

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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. :)

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

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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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, thehighcalling.org

On, In, and Around Mondays: Sharing the Mystery

I made a start, but I always seem to falter when it comes to fiction. She knows this about me.

"Did you ever finish?" she asked.

"I'm on chapter two."

"I can read it to you," she said.

And so she did, this weekend. On my bed. In the kitchen. On the deck at her grandparents' home.

Sometimes I would catch myself daydreaming. About work or bills. About taxes or my poets. Her voice never faltered. She laughed, sighed, caught my eye, touched my hand. Sometimes she turned to the back of the book or to the footnotes. "Chopin never wrote anything for solo violin, isn't that funny? I love these notes!"

Then she told me this is why Doyle didn't like the Holmes stories. They were inaccurate, unlike his other works which he spent far more time researching. But no one liked the other works much. Who cared about accuracy, when the Holmes stories were better?

I type these words and I suddenly wonder, "Was it taxes I daydreamed about, while my dark-haired girl shared her beloved Holmes with me? Or am I making that up? Did she really touch my hand? Or was it my arm? When we remember, we alter memories. We cannot know for sure what happened. Only approximations.

But I remember this, surely. Very surely. She took the time to read to me. I listened, I watched, and... we loved.

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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