It is amazing how someone can be so big. So black. So powerful. And, yet, move so quietly through the world, like a shadow. His eyes are deep. His silence, deeper. It is not hard to walk right past him without speaking. He will let you. Every time.
But, if you do choose to speak, smile, say hello, you will be surprised. From the shadows comes a ray of light that is his smile. His eyes twinkle and his soul shines with goodness and kindness. He is genuine. He is thankful.
I want to know what he thinks about. I wonder, and imagine, what his ol’Louisiana home was like.
Would he, like Johnny, and Little Johnny, and others beside them, have taken their lunch in my grandmother’s kitchen, while we dined in the other room? Might he have driven into town on errands for her? Could he too have moved furniture, cut grass, cleared plates, and loaded trucks and trailers to her order?
And, would he too have held and admired my babies? Smile at how they’ve grown? Felt the love of an entire family from arms length?
Would he, too, not believe his image in photos to be true?
Quiet. Loyal. Working. Proud.
These are the men in the shadows.
This is written as a part of the {W}rite-of-Passage Writing Well Challenge #1.
Find a person and study them. Build them into your own short piece.
**Note – Quite honestly, after reviewing more pieces in the challenge, I think I’ve done this wrong…but I’m posting this anyhow. I’ll take another stab at it this week…
FireDaddy and I have planned a Hillbilly Holiday trip.
What was I thinking?
The current plan is to shove off from Point A immediately after school on Tuesday of next week.We will drive to Atlanta and crash with some friends for the night before it’s on the road again in the morning to complete the long journey to the back hills of Kentucky.
And when I say “back hills”, I mean it.
No internet.No mall.The nearest Walmart is more than 30 minutes away – and you practically need a compass to find your way.Cracker Barrel is known as a “Big City Store”.
The last time I visited Kentucky (which was also my first) I realized near the end of the trip that I had not eaten fruit the entire time we were in Kentucky.
It is like travelling back in time.
Now, I need to clarify – these people are the sweetest, kindest, most loving people on the face of God’s great planet.They love, love, love you all like family – even before you’re family.On that trip, my girlies and I met for the first time FireDaddy’s eldest aunt (who still lives in the same house in which she was born – the home that did not have indoor plumbing until FireDaddy’s Daddy was grown, in the Army, and PAID for the plumbing to be installed in his Mammaw’s home), and she sent them both home with two 15-inch collectible dolls from her den just because.They just do that kind of stuff.FireDaddy’s uncle routinely takes him out to the shed, or hat closet, or wherever he keeps his crazy stash – and gives him a new Kentucky Wildcats hat every time he sees him.Every meal, when you visit, is like a feast, complete with pies and cakes and gravy and all the fixin’s.These people love my husband, they love my babies, and they love me.And, for that, I am immensely grateful and touched.
However, when we get right down to it – I AM A CITY GIRL.I am spoiled.And, to top it all off, I am a FLORIDA city girl.I don’t do cold very well at all.I’ve had trouble dressing my darling girlies this year on the few “cold” days we’ve had (high in 50s) so far – much less clothing them for a week of wet, cloudy days with temps in the 40s and 30s!So, that’s one panic…
Another is, OH. MY. GOSH!This is happening NEXT WEEK, PEOPLE!!!NEXT WEEK!!!!
My mind is racing with all the things I need to do before then – and only have one weekend left to accomplish.Things like:
1.Tear my house apart looking for the portable DVD player (which I haven’t seen since the summer months) that will prevent FireDaddy and I from strapping our girlies to the roof of our car all the way between Georgia and Kentucky.
2.Purchase and pack a week’s worth of chocolate pop-tarts, gummy snacks, apples, Wheat Thins, Diet Dr. Pepper, CapriSuns, Oreos, and other “survival basics” for the car ride (and sneaky snacks while we’ve there).
3.Refill every prescription known to man – Ibuprofen 800, Prozac Weekly, Prozac daily, muscle relaxers, and anything else you may be able to suggest - that will help me survive being trapped in a Pacifica with FireDaddy and my babies for like a gajillion miles.FireDaddy and BabyGirl don’t always see eye to eye…especially in the car.
4.Sew and wrap presents for the family we’re going to see there….because, have I mentioned? I’m doing a handmade Christmas this year…(i.e. more evidence supporting my claims to insanity)
5.Print photos to insert in my Christmas cards so I can mail them before we high-tail it off for a week.
6.Find a loving, temporary home for my two darling four-legged children….because if they were going too, I might elect to stay home.
7.Get those same darling four-legged children groomed so their winter camp counselors, whomever they wind up being, don’t think I’m a neglectful mother.
8.Wash the twenty-five loads of laundry that has accumulated in the last week at my house.
9.Find an adorable dress suitable for LittleGirl to wear to school all day and straight into her holiday program TOMORROW NIGHT.
10.Continue to plan for and survive the remaining 5 days of the 2009 school year, including (but not limited to) writing detailed sub plans for the last day of school prior to the holiday break (for which, I will not be present), feed my family, and generally go about my life as expected by the world around me.
11.Fight off this sinus infection that is threatening to attack me any moment.
12.Continue to work towards producing and packaging the other handmade gifts I’ve planned for my friends, family and my daughters’ teachers.
What was I thinking?
Scratch that. I know what I was thinking.
I was thinking that these people - this family - are important to FireDaddy and our girlies and I.These are people that aren’t getting any younger or healthier as time wears on, to say the least.These are people that are worth the hassle and heartache that accompanies traveling long distances in a car with short people.These people are part of my daughters’ heritage, whether they understand this or not, and they need to know them.They need to know where they came from.And so does FireDaddy.And so do I.
In the long run, these are small prices to pay for the memories that will be made.
Perhaps I should focus on the feeling that overwhelmed my whole being the moment I stepped foot in that 1920-something home that Auntie and Uncle have owned since their own youth.The feeling that brought tears to my eyes so boldly that I could not stop them from falling down my cheeks.The feeling that instantly, gently, amazingly carried my soul hundreds of miles away to a little home in Louisiana where my own family member had lived.The feeling that said “home”, even though it was all new to me.
Perhaps I should focus on the pictures of babies frozen in time.And brides blushing beside their grooms.And Olan Mills portraits of wrinkled eyes and smiles.The creak in the floorboards.The slow, soft sound of tired feet shuffling to the kitchen to set the morning pot to brew.The cheery yellow wall hangings in a tiny, tiny kitchen.The kitchen stove that doesn’t know the meaning of a day off.
You know, I was just thinking the other day, “I’m bored.There’s nothing to do this time of year…”
I know you were probably thinking the exact same thing, right?
Since my imperfect conclusion to NaBloPoMo back in September, I’ve been pondering the possibilities.Shall I have a “do-over”? Shall I leave well enough alone? If I were to do a “do-over”, when would be a good time? Now? Later? Never? I guess all I ultimately decided was that it’s rather like having another baby.For one, there is NEVER a perfect time.And two, if you can’t ever resolve that you’re done for good, you probably aren’t done.
Then, amidst my noncommittal self-talk, with a stroke of serendipity, I stumbled upon this lovely little project called Holidailies.It is a project I can’t refuse.So, lucky you, you’re in for a treat.The rules say I have to post a minimum of 20 times between December 7th and January 6th, with the goal of one post per day in mind.I think I can hack it, even given the possible trip to the hills FireDaddy and I are planning for the holidays.
I hope you’re ready for this…because December has already been a bit of a rocky ride for me, folks.Within the first week of December, I have already: sustained back pain that interfered with my ability to function in the world, nursed sick children with dangerously spiking fevers, decorated the interior of my home for the holiday season (and managed to drag it out over the course of a week), moved furniture, bought paint for FireDaddy to repaint my kitchen, began searching for new paint colors for my office and den, continued to very slowly create handmade gifts for family and friends, taken approximately 1000 pictures, watched my beloved Old Boys of Florida stumble in defeat, and eat my weight in banana pudding.Ladies and gentlemen, I’d say this should be an interesting month.
While this is definitely the most cumbersome of all decorating chores, it is also one of the most sentimental. Ornaments on our tree, like many of yours, tell the tale of who we are and where we’ve been.
There are faces on our tree. Lots of little smiling faces. Every year, we watch the faces grow older.
Ornaments mark milestones in our family’s story. Our first Christmas together and my babies’ first Christmases.
Some ornaments were handmade by family, friends, and even a few former students.
Of course, there are lots of firefighters and fire trucks, too.
Many ornaments came directly from the childhood trees of Little Girl Mommy and Little Boy FireDaddy.
Some of my newest favorites are more playful in spirit, reflecting my love of the beach and water.
Our ornaments represent our heritage,
the contents of our hearts,
and the child inside each of us.
And that sounds just about right to me. Isn’t that what Christmas is all about?
Christmas, if you ask me, is best seen through the eyes of a child. I love watching my little girlies experience the magic. So, naturally, some of my most favorite Christmas decorations are the ones centered around my babies.
One of the earliest traditions began as a gift from a secret Santa [My brother and sister-in-law]. Before BabyGirl was with us, a box containing this advent house appeared unexpectedly on our front porch. This beautiful house brings so much excitement to our family throughout the entire month of December. Every night, we open a door and discover the treasure is hiding inside. Hair bows, bath fizzies, candies, “grow me” pets, coin purses, stamps, stickers, play dough and more. As BabyGirl has grown and taken a more active role in holidays, they take turns opening doors each night. BigGirl opens all the odds, BabyGirl opens the evens. Some doors contain items to be shared, while others hold something for each of them. In years past, some treats have been a little larger than these little doors can handle. In those cases, our little elf has been known to leave clues guiding the way to their daily dose of Christmas cheer.
Last year, we welcomed a brand new tradition to our home: Elway, the Elf on the Shelf. Elway and his friends have become quite the rage all over the land of Christmas, it seems…but that doesn’t make him any less special to us. I laughed this year as BabyGirl said to me, “Mommy. He watching me. I don’t want him watching me.” (Guilty conscience, my dear??) This year, it was apparent that Elway brought the house with him on his long trek from the North Pole. And…he brought with him another mysterious box…with no return address.
Elway also brought with him this adorable pink tree. We found the perfect home for it on the tea table in the girlies’ room. We’ve begun slowly decorating it with knick-knacks and homemade ornaments. And (more evidence that the Big Man from the North had something to do with all this Christmas goodness), two consecutive doors in the advent house revealed supplies to make angel ornaments! Who else would have known but the Big Man himself?
There are also child-sized, unbreakable versions of Christmas favorites throughout my house. I fell in love with this children’s nativity set (seen here as arranged by BigGirl) from Bombay Kids, (R.I.P. Bombay Company & Bombay Kids. You are missed...)
… and this stuffed Hallmark Christmas tree with buttons for hanging felt ornament sets. (The ornament sets came with little board books telling holiday stories, too! Even better!)
And, this year, our traditions have even been enhanced by the blogosphere! Thanks to Elsie Marley, the girlies and I are making advent coloring books, one day at a time. Well, BigGirl wants to compile her art into a collection. BabyGirl wants to hang hers on the wall over her bed. (I think I’m going to hang a string and clip them, a la clothesline, as we go.) It’s amazing how much fun it has been…just simple paper and crayons! And, it’s free!
I was to interview Laura at Word Grrls. First, like any good reporter, I did my research…which was A LOT. Laura wears many different hats, ranging from advice guru, to writing “coach”, artist, explorer of rural lands, and more.
After writing my questions (which was tougher than I thought), I anxiously awaited her replies.
Today, they arrived!!! I am so pleased to share with you a little about Laura, in her own words.
1. Many of us are moving towards living more "greenly". What is the next big step you'd like to take to improve your mark on the Earth?
I'd like to do better with recycling, especially paper. It bothers me to have so much paper with everyday stuff. Funny how we thought having computers and the Internet would mean using less paper. I think it generates more in some ways. But, on a personal level, I could do better at recycling those poor ground up tree parts.
2. You wrote a post about "vacuuming out our brains". If I were to dump the bagless canister into the garbage, shortly after you vacuumed your brain, what might I see?
For my brain you would need to empty it a couple of times. I carry around a lot of clutter. There would be ideas for recipes, mostly holiday cookies at this time of year. There would be a lot of half formed ideas for blog posts. Ideas for starting my own blog network. Ideas for writing a paranormal romance book. A few dead batteries from brain cells that are just tired of listening to me. Diet coke cans, coffee cup circles on masses of paper I've written notes to myself on. A Raggedy Ann doll which is almost half way sewn up, her face nicely embroidered by hand (a few years ago). A pair of boots for mucking around at old houses which were only worn once cause I remember to bring my map but never actually change my footwear, it was a good idea at the time. Something sharp that broke and might be dangerous if it snags the vacuum hose. At the bottom of the canister would be a pile of sludge from guilt, hurt feelings and disappoints. In the light bits of dust flying around would be all kinds of good things I've thought of, experiences I've been proud of, happy with and people from my past who I was glad to know but don't think of very often.
3. Your blog, Word Grrls, is filled with advice on writing and blogging. Do you have a writing/blogging mentor? If so, what do you admire about them?
At first I thought no. But I do have a mentor, someone I look up to and think of as an ideal. Her name is Bev Walton-Porter. I admire her for doing. That sweet and simple. Things I want to do, she goes ahead and just does them. Makes it look easy. I also admire Deanna for the same reason, she is very accomplished in areas beyond writing too. I've known Bev longer though I've actually never met either of them face to face. Funny how that happens online.
4. I know that I, and a few of my "Bloggy Buddies", need to feel like I’m “in the mood" to blog or write. Some moods are more productive than others. What are some of your favorite moods for writing? And, tell me about when/where you write. Is it quiet, or do you prefer music or television on? Do you usually finish a post in one sitting, or save it to finish/review later?
I can write with the TV or radio on. But I can't write when someone else is in the house. Very odd. I love going out to a coffee shop and reading, making notes and sometimes even writing a few pages. But the people around are strangers and I almost feel like I am alone while being out. I fee refreshed from being out, even though I could become a hermit at times I love being out, talking to people too. It's complicated I guess. :)
My best mood for writing is being under a deadline. I tend to procrastinate and become distracted so having a deadline keeps me on track. It puts me in the mood to write.
5. I noticed on one of your other sites that you seem to have a "thing" for poppies...or maybe not. What's up with that? The flower projects are adorable. Is there meaning or a story behind them?
That is my personal blog which is a bit neglected. The poppies were posted for Remembrance Day. I really like flowers, especially crocheted flowers. It's one of the projects on my to-do list.
6. What's your sign? What aspects/traits of your sun sign do you feel most accurately describe you?
I am Sagittarius. In Chinese astrology I'm a Wood Dragon. Both fit me well. I do love to learn new things, though I am not good at sticking to any one thing. I also have the need to teach the world, even if they don't especially listen at the time. Someday they will!
7. If cost was of no concern, and the sky was the limit, but you had to choose TODAY, what would you dress up as for Halloween 2010?
I would be a Witch. Not a warty black witch but a modern witch with a flowing gown an a pointy hat in red. My witch might even have a ball gown and jewels.
8. Tell me about your favorite room. Anywhere.
Something I saw in a movie once had the kitchen kind of outside. They had an open fire pit and everyone was sitting around it. Yet it was open so smoke wasn't bothering anyone. Still it was inside so they weren't getting attacked by bugs either. You could read your book without being rained on and there was a huge window on the inside where you had a reading nook which looked out over the fire and gardens outside. I can't quite remember how it all fit together now. I liked the idea of being cosy and having the elements from outside around too.
So, there you have it! Laura in a nutshell…or something like that. :)
I rather like her! And, Laura, I have to tell you – you and I have more in common than it may appear on the surface!
Before I leave you, I thought it would be fun, since Laura is an artist and, on occasion, includes her drawings in her posts, to include a little drawing of my own.
(Drum roll, please…and no snide remarks. I teach elementary school, remember?)
Questions about my artwork and/or her responses? Leave a comment, or – better yet – visit her blog! It’s worth the trip!
Psst! Wondering about the flip side of this little project? You can check out my interview here. It’s my turn to be the “star”!
And, if you’re interested in participating, it’s not too late! Just hop on over to Neil’s blog and leave your “count me in” comment. He’ll contact you via email with YOUR assignment. And don’t forget to keep me posted!
Today’s Girl Talk Thursday topic is heartbreaks. Such a touchy topic…
As you may have gathered from previous posts, I’ve had my share of boyfriends. Which is not to say that this is a point of pride for me…
I can remember riding in the car with my mother on the way to the mall; I was in high school. My heart was freshly wounded by Some Dumb Guy. A sappy love song came on the radio and began rubbing salt in my wound. I was trying to be brave and keep my mind off the hurt and lonely feeling that comes with breakups, but this blasted song was knocking me down brick by brick. I remember softly, reluctantly asking my mother, “Can you please change the station?” She respectfully agreed, and silently honored my request. I wonder what it was like to be My Mama in that moment. Was she thinking, “I hate seeing her like this?” or “Such a drama queen…”. (Probably some of both.)
I did not choose my boys wisely, to say the least. I’ve alluded to my own issues with self-esteem here before. Here’s the bottom line: I didn’t like myself very much, so I liked just about anyone who liked me. The truth hurts, but doesn’t make it any less true.
As you can imagine, with little to no standards for Qualifying Candidates, I got burned quite a bit. Looking back, it seems like most guys dumped me when they had another waiting in the wings. (Perhaps they were smarter than I give them credit for…) That fact, of course, made it so much harder to accept. The jealousy. The betrayal.
And then, there was one guy that really was a jerk. In his defense, he had no good role models. His parents had split when he was young, young, young. His mother lived on other side of the country and he didn’t know her AT ALL until his father, who spent a lifetime freely sharing his own twisted version of love with his sons, died. So, along came the boy. He liked me. So, I considered and (of course) agreed to a date. All was hunky-dory for a while. I, in keeping with my own traditions, began allowing my entire life to revolve around Dumb Guy of the Moment.
A smart enough person learns to see this as a source of control and power…and get used to it. Often, they decide to keep things moving along the path of their choice, regardless of your thoughts. Bottom line, I got hurt. It hurt before it was over. It hurt because I let it. I was too stupid to see that I was worth more than that. I didn’t have the courage or perspective to realize I would be happier and better off without him. I was scared and didn’t want to be alone.
Then, one day, it clicked. I was done. It was over. I had had enough. I shed my fair share of tears and wallowed in my sorrow with a few supportive friends, and then, as quickly as a baby falls asleep in their pureed peas, I flushed it. Like a faucet, I turned it off.
A few days later, I met my husband. He was supposed to be a rebound. I just wanted a distraction to help me launch myself down a new road. Turns out that road was a interstate with no end in sight. Funny how things work out.
All of this “woe is me, innocent victim” talk is not, of course to say that I didn’t do my fair share of burning, as well. I never maliciously intended to hurt, but misunderstandings happen and people change. Girls are stupid in high school, as are boys. And, hindsight is 20-20. As it turns out, some girls – some “friends” – have ulterior motives behind their “advice”.
“I feel so conflicted…I ‘love’ (because, when you’re young you think it’s love) So-And-So, but I kind of like Other Dude, too. I don’t know what to do…”
“Oh, you should go for it…you and So-And-So are growing apart. Follow your heart. Go for Other Dude. Here, why don’t I help you write the break-up note…”
A few days later, guess who’s comforting So-And-So? Oh, look! Now they’re a couple! As for me and Other Dude? Yeah. That one will live in infamy forever among my family as the one to whom I said, “This isn’t going to last long.” I don’t know if I said that to him, or just to my family. But, it’s true. I said it to someone.
As an adult, I’ve decided that heartbreaks come as a result of personal expectations. (Wish I could claim credit for this profound statement, but a co-worker taught me this.) We all have expectations for the people in our lives. We have expectations for who and what boyfriends/husbands/lovers/friends/family members are and how they should behave. These expectations, though, are rarely, if ever, explicitly discussed, they are often vastly different from one person to the next. We get hurt when people don’t meet our unspoken expectations.
I expected boys would care about my feelings.
I expected they might “love” me forever - because, to me, love is forever.
I expected that they would be honorable and do the right thing.
I expected they would tell me the truth.
I expected that my girlfriends had my best interest in mind.
I expected they were being honorable, too.
I expected that, should someone truly care about me, they would fight for me. They would come to me and say, “I don’t want to lose you.”
I expected wrong.
Even today, I live with heartbreak from time to time. Who doesn’t? My husband breaks my heart. My children break my heart. My friends break my heart. My family breaks my heart. That’s life.
What I’m learning is that I must adjust my expectations. The only person I can truly EXPECT anything from, is myself, because that is the only person I can – or want to - control. I must expect more from myself than I do from others. I’ve learned that, while I continue to open my heart to the loving people around me – who, like me, are just doing the best they can everyday, I need to give myself the unconditional love that I cannot always expect from others.
And that, my friends, is harder than it seems.
I don’t like that this has been such a depressing post. So, to share a “feel good” with you…check out this video. You’ll like it, I promise!
and the child inside each of us.
