I am busy writing up an article on job options for women so I am not writing extra stuff today but my article about the Deputy Director of Parole for Utah (who happens to be a woman) is published online at Wasatch Woman today. This woman really inspires me. She reminded me that we should reach for our dreams and never sell ourselves short. You can check out the story here
Tomorrow I will update on our fun 24th of July day.
Showing posts with label Write A Little. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Write A Little. Show all posts
Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Write A Little -- A Sentimental Gardner
A few weeks ago Tom's Nana's irises started to bloom in my yard. Only some of them bloomed this year but I am happy they are surviving. Last Fall I wrote an essay on how I am a sentimental gardener. I thought I would share the portion that has to do with Nana's Irises today.
Every growing season as I turn my face to the blazing sun and plant my favorite plants, many of which are chosen for purely sentimental reasons, I am blissfully happy. Over the past two years I have had the opportunity to landscape my first yard that is all my own. Each summer as my husband hauls bricks for raised beds to my garden and my children dig their hands into the dirt, I teach and live the legacy of gardening. I call my dad and my sister for garden troubleshooting advice. I run my fingers over the lavender and remember my graduation trip to France with my father. I smile at the black-eyed- susan’s in front of an enormous boulder, remembering my mother who taught me the name of these cheerful flowers and is an amateur geologist. She is the reason I don’t mind the plethora of rocks in my yard. She knows about rocks. The three aspens near this spot are also for my mother, a reminder of a hike through a forest of aspens one autumn as a young girl. “This is my favorite tree,” she told me. It promptly became my favorite tree also.
I relish planting memories and heritage. My mother-in-law called me one day last fall and told me she had saved me a bag of iris bulbs from her 97-year-old mother’s garden. My husband’s grandma had been an avid gardener and painter before age took most of her sight and health. Her flower beds had always been envious things, overflowing with big bright blooms. So, of course, I was overjoyed at the offer to plant heirlooms of my favorite flower. I gathered this beautiful knobby dirt-encrusted gift into my gloved hands and set out with my 3-year-old daughter one crisp autumn afternoon to bury some heritage in my yard. I dug and my preschooler placed each bulb carefully. We covered them up and I told her about her Nana Ora. We spent an hour together planting them throughout the yard. A week later I had an unexpected visit from Nana Ora and my mother-in-law. I showed her the general area of her flowers new homes. She can’t see or hear very well so I am unsure of the success of my show and tell. I could, however, tell she mourned her garden. She recently had to move away from her home and all of her flowers, not just the irises, were dug up. “I can’t replace them if they don’t come up,” she told me, bittersweet at her loss. “It’s OK,” I told her. “I planted them near my other irises and I planted them in three different spots. Some of them will survive.” We all know Nana Ora’s days with us are numbered but I like to think her great-granddaughter planted a small portion of her legacy this year. I know that for many future springs we will “ooh” and “ahh” over Nana’s irises and we will remember her. They will become part of a daily walk through the yard where I touch and smell and smile at memories.
I relish planting memories and heritage. My mother-in-law called me one day last fall and told me she had saved me a bag of iris bulbs from her 97-year-old mother’s garden. My husband’s grandma had been an avid gardener and painter before age took most of her sight and health. Her flower beds had always been envious things, overflowing with big bright blooms. So, of course, I was overjoyed at the offer to plant heirlooms of my favorite flower. I gathered this beautiful knobby dirt-encrusted gift into my gloved hands and set out with my 3-year-old daughter one crisp autumn afternoon to bury some heritage in my yard. I dug and my preschooler placed each bulb carefully. We covered them up and I told her about her Nana Ora. We spent an hour together planting them throughout the yard. A week later I had an unexpected visit from Nana Ora and my mother-in-law. I showed her the general area of her flowers new homes. She can’t see or hear very well so I am unsure of the success of my show and tell. I could, however, tell she mourned her garden. She recently had to move away from her home and all of her flowers, not just the irises, were dug up. “I can’t replace them if they don’t come up,” she told me, bittersweet at her loss. “It’s OK,” I told her. “I planted them near my other irises and I planted them in three different spots. Some of them will survive.” We all know Nana Ora’s days with us are numbered but I like to think her great-granddaughter planted a small portion of her legacy this year. I know that for many future springs we will “ooh” and “ahh” over Nana’s irises and we will remember her. They will become part of a daily walk through the yard where I touch and smell and smile at memories.
Do you have any gardening memories?
Monday, May 25, 2009
Monday Write A Little
Actually since I am going to be writing a lot this week, I have an article due for Elan Magazine, I thought I would do a quick writing excercise.
I thought it was so great when Alton Brown did a couple of haikus on the Iron Chef the other night so I am going to attempt a haiku about my great Memorial Day weekend.
OK I tried and it didn't work I am much too impatient tonight for the patient laboring it takes to write a haiku so I am going to just give you this.
Friday
Gardening in the spring rain, laughing at a great movie while sharing a large family size popcorn with the 5 hugs and one aunt.
Sunday
Napping and church.
fighting a migraine and drifting off to sleep after husband makes dinner.
Monday
Gardening, gardening, vegetable planting in the cool spring breezes.
Cooking up the first corn on the cobs of the coming summer season and eating a friend's homemade butter and icecream. Laughing at neices and the chaos of friends and family.
Life is bliss this weekend. Except for that little stint with the migraine.
I thought it was so great when Alton Brown did a couple of haikus on the Iron Chef the other night so I am going to attempt a haiku about my great Memorial Day weekend.
OK I tried and it didn't work I am much too impatient tonight for the patient laboring it takes to write a haiku so I am going to just give you this.
Friday
Gardening in the spring rain, laughing at a great movie while sharing a large family size popcorn with the 5 hugs and one aunt.
Sunday
Napping and church.
fighting a migraine and drifting off to sleep after husband makes dinner.
Monday
Gardening, gardening, vegetable planting in the cool spring breezes.
Cooking up the first corn on the cobs of the coming summer season and eating a friend's homemade butter and icecream. Laughing at neices and the chaos of friends and family.
Life is bliss this weekend. Except for that little stint with the migraine.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Oh Happy Hummingbird Day -- Write a Little Monday
Last night after weeks of waiting and listening I heard the familiar high pitched buzz that promised me Spring has finally arrived. Forget the calendar or the weatherman or even the green plants popping up through the wet earth, the hummingbird is the Hughes' official spring herald. I believe these busy little jewels know something the rest of us don't. They know when it's going to stay warm enough to build a nest and take up summer residence. Yes, we may have another snowstorm, but I believe the weekly blizzards are over. This morning I saw the green little gem perched on the hummingbird feeder I put out last night and I joyfully tripped off to the nursery.
A couple years ago when I was so sick I barely had energy to move I remember watching the flickers of hummingbirds wings in March and April. I also spent a great deal of time watching these winged friends with my daughter Rebecca, and it became a mutual obsession we share. They brought me hope then and they continue to bring me hope today. I wrote the following poem for her and I am currently working on a painting that will include some of the lines of this poem.
Hummingbird Watch
Frenzied, acrobats of flight,
we wait for you
in between the manic hours of days,
she and I.
Mysterious pygmy jewels of the sky
A daily ritual
in the storm of duties and meltdowns
there you shimmer.
We discuss species, colors, your last visit,
Our speedy mediators,
strange reflections of our frantic lives.
We steal hours
meant for washing, scrubbing, folding
to watch for you.
We discover friendship, beauty, communion.
I hope she remembers.
And just in case you want to feed the hummingbirds at your house you can make your own syrup with 1 part sugar to 4 parts warm water.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Monday - Write a Little
I can't believe I only blogged one time last week and here I am on Monday trying to find a "write a little" idea. I am going to cheat. This past weekend I spoke at a mothering convention in SLC. I was really nervous and so I was afraid to say anything on the blog because I know so many people who would have been more qualified to speak than me. Still, it was something I felt I had to do. Because I was scared witless and I believe in facing my fears, I felt I had to accept this challenge. So I pulled it off ,kind of, and today I am just going to give you a mini version of my 45 minute lecture that focused on this list of ten ways we can find joy in motherhood. My topic was "Exchanging Martyrdom for Motherhood."
10 Steps to Enjoy Motherhood
CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDE -- Spend less time indulging the "poor me" attitude and find more time to find joy and peace in your role as a mother.
1. Grow a Sense of Humor – Laugh More. Laughter always changes your perspective. Always!
2. Prioritize – When they are your priorities they are easier to swallow. Remember why you chose to become a mother.
3. Make it your Dream Job – See yourself as top management. You are not the maid you are the executive. All jobs have glamourous and non glamourous aspects -- even dream jobs.
4. Recognize your Achievements – Give yourself a high five. Recognize your awesome mom days and give yourself some credit.
5. Document your Feelings – Write it, Sing it, Blog it.
CHANGE YOUR BEHAVIOR
1. Embrace your Mothering Style – Paint by number paintings don’t get in museums so embrace your unique traits as a mother, use your own mothering style to bring beauty and joy to your family.
2. Teach Don’t Do –
“We will be more effective the less we act as managers and the more we act as coaches, consultants and guides.” James D. MacArthur, PhD – Director, counseling and Career Center, BYU
3. Take a Time Out – You are a person too so Pamper, Breathe, Learn, Escape.
4. Create a Support Circle – Accept Help, Vent for Sanity, Give Back. Don't judge other mothers in your Support Circle
5. Play – Schedule a playdate with your children. This is where we get to know and understand our children and where they get to know and understand us.
Ok there is a seriously pared down version.
Also, I forgot to tell you the answer to my word wise question a few weeks ago.
The difference between uninterested and disinterested is:
Uninterested means lacking interest
Disinterested means impartial. i.e. A district court judge must always play the part of a disinterested observer.
10 Steps to Enjoy Motherhood
CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDE -- Spend less time indulging the "poor me" attitude and find more time to find joy and peace in your role as a mother.
1. Grow a Sense of Humor – Laugh More. Laughter always changes your perspective. Always!
2. Prioritize – When they are your priorities they are easier to swallow. Remember why you chose to become a mother.
3. Make it your Dream Job – See yourself as top management. You are not the maid you are the executive. All jobs have glamourous and non glamourous aspects -- even dream jobs.
4. Recognize your Achievements – Give yourself a high five. Recognize your awesome mom days and give yourself some credit.
5. Document your Feelings – Write it, Sing it, Blog it.
CHANGE YOUR BEHAVIOR
1. Embrace your Mothering Style – Paint by number paintings don’t get in museums so embrace your unique traits as a mother, use your own mothering style to bring beauty and joy to your family.
2. Teach Don’t Do –
“We will be more effective the less we act as managers and the more we act as coaches, consultants and guides.” James D. MacArthur, PhD – Director, counseling and Career Center, BYU
3. Take a Time Out – You are a person too so Pamper, Breathe, Learn, Escape.
4. Create a Support Circle – Accept Help, Vent for Sanity, Give Back. Don't judge other mothers in your Support Circle
5. Play – Schedule a playdate with your children. This is where we get to know and understand our children and where they get to know and understand us.
Ok there is a seriously pared down version.
Also, I forgot to tell you the answer to my word wise question a few weeks ago.
The difference between uninterested and disinterested is:
Uninterested means lacking interest
Disinterested means impartial. i.e. A district court judge must always play the part of a disinterested observer.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Write A Little -- Fairy /Flower project
I am giving you a sneak peek. My sister and I are writing a children's book together. No title yet but it is an ABC book with fairies, flowers and tanka poems for each letter of the alphabet. Today I thought it would be fun to give you a peek at what we are working on. Someday soon, when we are done, we will start looking for an agent to help us get it published. My sister is painting the fairies and flowers and I am penning the poems.
Here is one of my favorites:
S for Sunflower
Standing tall in the sunshine
smiling at the sky
Ssh,Look a sassy sweetheart
sharing a summertime snack.
Here is one of my favorites:
S for Sunflower
Standing tall in the sunshine
smiling at the sky
Ssh,Look a sassy sweetheart
sharing a summertime snack.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Write A Little - A New Year's Resolution
The kids' Nana made afghans for all her grandkids. Here are my kids and a couple of their cousins all wrapped up in their Christmas gift.
Ok, before I do my "write a little post" I just wanted to say how truly relaxing my Christmas was this year. I actually lost track of which day of the week it was because I was so chilled out. I got some awesome homemade gifts from my kids, jewelery from my husband (a real shocker) mixing bowls and oddly enough a flash drive (which was secretly on my "I hope Santa thinks to give me one of these for Christmas list." My parents gave me the cookbooks I have been salivating over and my in-laws gave me luxurious sheets. We got tons of fun games to play with the kids. Thanks everyone for all the great stuff but my favorite gift really was the lack of fighting between my kids for a few days. Oh, we are back to the bickering but there were a couple blissful days.
I know it's cliche to talk about New Year's Resolutions. I really do think we should be making and reevaluating goals throughout the year. But I just can't help looking back over the past year to evaluate how I measured up to my yearly goals. I'm also looking ahead to see where I want to take myself this year. I also believe we are better able to visualize and remember our resolutions if we write them down. There is something so permanent about the written word that I feel as if I am drawing up an agreement with myself.
Last year's resolutions
Stay in better touch with family and friends. Thank you facebook and blogging for helping me connect and reconnect to so many people. I really feel like I actually accomplished this goal. Mission Accomplished
Read my scriptures daily: I had a really good run in the summer when I read daily with my kids. It was a good experience for all of us but 3 months does not a year make. I am going to having call this goal a redo.
Start writing again: Two years ago I became so sick, I actually stopped writing. In a way this is how I figured out something was really wrong with me. At the beginning of this year as I continued to bounce back from surgery, I vowed to write again. I am happy to say I started writing for a couple magazines again and started a writing group. Mission accomplished.
Lose 15 pounds: Hmmm. This seems like it would have been easy. But I am an inconsistent person and I failed miserably. At least, I maintained instead of gaining. Redo
Become a more emotionally calm mother. I am not sure I accomplished this although I do feel more at peace with mothering. I have found more joy in my role as a mother even if I can't seem to keep my temper in check as often as I would like. I am going to call this a success in progress.
2009 New Year's Resolutions:
Read my scriptures or the ensign everyday. I really think I can do this if I throw a little Ensign in the mix.
Lose 15 pounds Actually, I am determined to lose 10pounds by February. Tom and I are going on a cruise and I refuse to wear a swimsuit without losing some weight.
Become a more patient person: sometimes I am really impatient. I am looking for inner calm this year.
I want to double my writing income:
I want to finish the fairy ABC book I am working on with my sister.
I want to get my basement cleaned out.
I will try something new this year. Last year I tried sushi and learned to paint. I believe we should all try something new every once in a while. It keeps our minds young and enlarges our perspective. Good luck with your goals. May you find some success and not buy too much guilt if you have to call them a redo next year.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Write A Little --A mysterious free spirit.
I have this wonderful friend who has the ability to make me rethink my perspective just by uttering a phrase. I love this about her. It is always nice to have someone who can nudge your intelligence out of a comfortable slump. Last week she asked me "Are you a free spirit? Because I think you may be a free spirit." I laughed and said "Somedays. I don't know. What is a free spirit?" And so all week long I have been plagued by this question. It followed me to bed at night, it sat next to me in church, it led my fingers to web searches. It was especially bad the first night. I could barely sleep as I asked myself this bevy of questions:
Am I a free spirit? Do I want to be a free spirit? Have I lost some of the qualities of being a free spirit? Do I want those qualities back? Round and round I have gone with this question. Later in the week, I took one of those silly quizzes that define you in one word. Apparently, I am "mysterious."
Could I be more ambiguous?
So, I willl attempt in this writing post to define why I may be a free spirit and possibly mysterious, although I think mysterious may be code for confusing or confused.
Definitions of free spirit:
free spirit definition - Dictionary - MSN Encarta
free spir·it (plural free spir·its) noun : Definition: somebody not afraid to flout convention: somebody who lives without regard to what convention dictates or what others expect
free spirit - definition of free spirit by the Free Online Dictionary ...
free spirit. n. One who is not restrained, as by convention or obligation; a nonconformist.
It's true I am not afraid to flout convention, especially when it is traditional womanly convention. I am not really embarrassed by the fact that I cannot sew or make bread or that I have had to work really really hard to be a decent housekeeper. I have other talents and I honor and admire those who posess the aforementioned gifts. I just don't feel the motivation to be good at these things just because my neighbor is an expert. I do, however, wish I was good at making bread because I really like the taste of homemade bread and I do like being self-sufficient. So I am making an effort to be a bread baker. But I will not start to iron my husband's shirts everyday or even every week. He is better at ironing than me and I really don't think this is some special woman's duty, especially if it reduces her to tears of frustration. Does that make me a free spirit? Maybe. Do I feel like people should follow their dreams no matter how different they may be from mine? Do I rebel against cookie cutter solutions to life's problems? Absolutely. I revel in the unconventional, sometimes.
As I get older I find that some conventions are necessary. Do I feel slightly fettered by the fact that I have to clean every day or always drive the speed limit. Yes, but so does everyone.
It is true I am a nonconformist. As soon as something gets too trendy, I start to shy away from it, Even if I loved it. I start looking for ways to make it original. For example I got one of those bumble watches, which I love, and I already want to have a new band made for it that doesn't look anything like a bumble watch. I am like this with everything. I don't want the same house or wall color or decor as everyone else. I start to feel uninspired if my surroundings mimic every body else I know.
I love the uniqueness of people. I am grateful for my friends' and family's different interests and personalities. For instance, I love that my Eastern friend hates the Western landscape because she loves the green of the East. It is a different perspective than mine and different perspectives keep my outlook on life fresh.
On the other hand I cannot live without regard to obligation. Nor do I want to. I am a mother and I expect order and obedience and all that good motherly stuff. I do not sleep in every morning because I have children with needs and I am their mother. I am also a wife and that is a partnership and obligation I take very seriously. Granted, I think my husband understands that I need my creative space, but I live my life very much in sync with his needs, his timetable and our relationship. I also try not to disregard friendship obligations. In the spiritual realm, I have always lived by the standards I learned from my parents. Not once have I felt constrained by these standards. I have rarely wavered from the strong belief I have in my religion and especially my savior Jesus Christ.
In general, I try not to twirl through life starry eyed and ignorant of the people around me. Although sometimes I do this unwittingly (that may be the free spirit in me trying to get loose). Thank heavens, my husband can always call me out on this errant twirling. So am I a free-spirit? I think my answer is still the same. Somedays. And really, what is a free spirit? Don't we all have a little free spiritedness that drives us to create, discover and occasionally disregard what convention expects of us?
The next word that was assigned to me this week is mysterious. I would like to think that perhaps I am a woman of mystery. I do think I do unexpected things to surprise those who know me best. I like to keep people on their toes. The Real Truth: I wear my heart on my sleeve. It is impossibly hard for me to keep my emotions hidden. If I am tired - you can tell. If I am angry - I vent or yell or let it all hang out. If I am excited -- I tell every person I know why I am excited. If I am worried -- you can see it etched all over my face. I am really not all that mysterious. I do change my mind, a lot! Like I said, I think I am just confusing.
If I were to pick words that described me I would pick words like passionate, curious, and yes, maybe even free-spirited. What words describe you?
Am I a free spirit? Do I want to be a free spirit? Have I lost some of the qualities of being a free spirit? Do I want those qualities back? Round and round I have gone with this question. Later in the week, I took one of those silly quizzes that define you in one word. Apparently, I am "mysterious."
Could I be more ambiguous?
So, I willl attempt in this writing post to define why I may be a free spirit and possibly mysterious, although I think mysterious may be code for confusing or confused.
Definitions of free spirit:
free spirit definition - Dictionary - MSN Encarta
free spir·it (plural free spir·its) noun : Definition: somebody not afraid to flout convention: somebody who lives without regard to what convention dictates or what others expect
free spirit - definition of free spirit by the Free Online Dictionary ...
free spirit. n. One who is not restrained, as by convention or obligation; a nonconformist.
It's true I am not afraid to flout convention, especially when it is traditional womanly convention. I am not really embarrassed by the fact that I cannot sew or make bread or that I have had to work really really hard to be a decent housekeeper. I have other talents and I honor and admire those who posess the aforementioned gifts. I just don't feel the motivation to be good at these things just because my neighbor is an expert. I do, however, wish I was good at making bread because I really like the taste of homemade bread and I do like being self-sufficient. So I am making an effort to be a bread baker. But I will not start to iron my husband's shirts everyday or even every week. He is better at ironing than me and I really don't think this is some special woman's duty, especially if it reduces her to tears of frustration. Does that make me a free spirit? Maybe. Do I feel like people should follow their dreams no matter how different they may be from mine? Do I rebel against cookie cutter solutions to life's problems? Absolutely. I revel in the unconventional, sometimes.
As I get older I find that some conventions are necessary. Do I feel slightly fettered by the fact that I have to clean every day or always drive the speed limit. Yes, but so does everyone.
It is true I am a nonconformist. As soon as something gets too trendy, I start to shy away from it, Even if I loved it. I start looking for ways to make it original. For example I got one of those bumble watches, which I love, and I already want to have a new band made for it that doesn't look anything like a bumble watch. I am like this with everything. I don't want the same house or wall color or decor as everyone else. I start to feel uninspired if my surroundings mimic every body else I know.
I love the uniqueness of people. I am grateful for my friends' and family's different interests and personalities. For instance, I love that my Eastern friend hates the Western landscape because she loves the green of the East. It is a different perspective than mine and different perspectives keep my outlook on life fresh.
On the other hand I cannot live without regard to obligation. Nor do I want to. I am a mother and I expect order and obedience and all that good motherly stuff. I do not sleep in every morning because I have children with needs and I am their mother. I am also a wife and that is a partnership and obligation I take very seriously. Granted, I think my husband understands that I need my creative space, but I live my life very much in sync with his needs, his timetable and our relationship. I also try not to disregard friendship obligations. In the spiritual realm, I have always lived by the standards I learned from my parents. Not once have I felt constrained by these standards. I have rarely wavered from the strong belief I have in my religion and especially my savior Jesus Christ.
In general, I try not to twirl through life starry eyed and ignorant of the people around me. Although sometimes I do this unwittingly (that may be the free spirit in me trying to get loose). Thank heavens, my husband can always call me out on this errant twirling. So am I a free-spirit? I think my answer is still the same. Somedays. And really, what is a free spirit? Don't we all have a little free spiritedness that drives us to create, discover and occasionally disregard what convention expects of us?
The next word that was assigned to me this week is mysterious. I would like to think that perhaps I am a woman of mystery. I do think I do unexpected things to surprise those who know me best. I like to keep people on their toes. The Real Truth: I wear my heart on my sleeve. It is impossibly hard for me to keep my emotions hidden. If I am tired - you can tell. If I am angry - I vent or yell or let it all hang out. If I am excited -- I tell every person I know why I am excited. If I am worried -- you can see it etched all over my face. I am really not all that mysterious. I do change my mind, a lot! Like I said, I think I am just confusing.
If I were to pick words that described me I would pick words like passionate, curious, and yes, maybe even free-spirited. What words describe you?
Monday, September 8, 2008
Write A Little - A Season for Everything
I am going to cheat a little today on this post. I didn't do my writer's prompt last week so I had to squeeze something in today. I already kind of did this prompt myself for a church newsletter. But I thought it would be fun. What is your favorite month of the year and why? Write something to commemorate your favorite month of the year.
Mine really is September. We are full swing into soccer and we also get to finish soccer. I love reaping the harvest. Tomorrow I will make salsa with a good friend, next week I will make peach jam with my sweet six year-old daughter and I have three kinds of pesto in my freezer waiting to be added to all kinds of yummy food. My Dad always had a garden and I love being able to have my own little patch of earth to grow things. I also love the weather in Cedar at this time of year. It usually stays in my ideal range of 75 to 85 degrees. To honor my "Write a Little" post I am going to share an essay/poem I wrote about two of my experiences last September.
Communion Lessons
Earlier:
“Stop yelling at your teammates or you are out of the game,” I scold five-year-old competiveness on the soccer field. I grieve the spoiled mother daughter communion. Didn’t I coach so we could remember goals together, run down the field together? I seethe against the stubborn self righteous set of her shoulders. How does the unquenchable drive for victory enflame my sweet little girl? Today, I insist, I’m more than just Mom. I’m the coach of a team full of flapping braids and flyaway ponytails trying to find their soccer groove.
Later:
We take fuzzy peaches from an overflowing cardboard box. Eager five-year-old fingers scrub away itchy film. The peach ritual begins. We plunge orbs from scalding to ice. Hers the covetous task of peeling slippery skins from golden spheres.
She exclaims:
“This one worked beautifully!” She admires rosy blush against gleaming, inviting, golden ripeness. We sneak “taste-tester bites” meant for jars. Proclaim it all beautiful. Set out amber colored peach jar rows cooling on the counter.
I regret angry disappointment on morning soccer fields, wish for more beautiful peach afternoons. Dreaming all our future angry words will peel away to glistening rosy patches of sweet memories sitting like jeweled invitations on the pantry shelf.
Mine really is September. We are full swing into soccer and we also get to finish soccer. I love reaping the harvest. Tomorrow I will make salsa with a good friend, next week I will make peach jam with my sweet six year-old daughter and I have three kinds of pesto in my freezer waiting to be added to all kinds of yummy food. My Dad always had a garden and I love being able to have my own little patch of earth to grow things. I also love the weather in Cedar at this time of year. It usually stays in my ideal range of 75 to 85 degrees. To honor my "Write a Little" post I am going to share an essay/poem I wrote about two of my experiences last September.
Communion Lessons
Earlier:
“Stop yelling at your teammates or you are out of the game,” I scold five-year-old competiveness on the soccer field. I grieve the spoiled mother daughter communion. Didn’t I coach so we could remember goals together, run down the field together? I seethe against the stubborn self righteous set of her shoulders. How does the unquenchable drive for victory enflame my sweet little girl? Today, I insist, I’m more than just Mom. I’m the coach of a team full of flapping braids and flyaway ponytails trying to find their soccer groove.
Later:
We take fuzzy peaches from an overflowing cardboard box. Eager five-year-old fingers scrub away itchy film. The peach ritual begins. We plunge orbs from scalding to ice. Hers the covetous task of peeling slippery skins from golden spheres.
She exclaims:
“This one worked beautifully!” She admires rosy blush against gleaming, inviting, golden ripeness. We sneak “taste-tester bites” meant for jars. Proclaim it all beautiful. Set out amber colored peach jar rows cooling on the counter.
I regret angry disappointment on morning soccer fields, wish for more beautiful peach afternoons. Dreaming all our future angry words will peel away to glistening rosy patches of sweet memories sitting like jeweled invitations on the pantry shelf.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Write A Little - Find a Moment
This week's writing prompt. Maybe you are a morning person. Maybe you are a night person (that would be me) maybe you are a 1:30 p.m. person. Pick your favorite time of day sometime this week. Find a favorite outdoor spot and sit for half-an-hour and do nothing. Just enjoy a moment of stillness or splendor or a view. Write what comes to your mind.
Summer Nights
Sometimes I forget how happy I am. And then I take a moment to revel in the synergy of a Southern Utah summer night. It is amazing what happens to my soul when I watch the warm breeze tousle and dance with the gray branches of bushes back-dropped by mountains crowned in a distant lightning storm. Everyone should find thirty minutes to watch clouds unscroll themselves over the mountain tops; sit still and anticipate flashes of lightning. Patience is rediscovered in the slow steady lifting of a cloud front. Stillness is found listening to a solo cricket belt out its song above the cacophony of a cricket orchestra. Perspective is achieved watching nature when all is shadowed, only to be illuminated by stars and electric bolts miles and light years away. Finally, when my mind is still, I remember how blessed I am to be surrounded by beauty, how happy I am to have a yard teeming with life, how lucky I am to have big porch with a panoramic view.
Summer Nights
Sometimes I forget how happy I am. And then I take a moment to revel in the synergy of a Southern Utah summer night. It is amazing what happens to my soul when I watch the warm breeze tousle and dance with the gray branches of bushes back-dropped by mountains crowned in a distant lightning storm. Everyone should find thirty minutes to watch clouds unscroll themselves over the mountain tops; sit still and anticipate flashes of lightning. Patience is rediscovered in the slow steady lifting of a cloud front. Stillness is found listening to a solo cricket belt out its song above the cacophony of a cricket orchestra. Perspective is achieved watching nature when all is shadowed, only to be illuminated by stars and electric bolts miles and light years away. Finally, when my mind is still, I remember how blessed I am to be surrounded by beauty, how happy I am to have a yard teeming with life, how lucky I am to have big porch with a panoramic view.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Write a Little: Try something new
On Mondays, I want to stretch my writing muscles a little bit. I am going to post my write a little prompt of the week on my Monday post.
Henry David Thoreau said "How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live." So this week go out and try something new and then write about it. If you are proud of your adventurous spirit come let me know what new thing you tried this week.
I tried sushi for the first time this year. My sushi loving husband finally got me to try it and I must say I am hooked, except I still won't eat those little orange fish eggs on top of the sushi or raw eel sushi. Still, I tried the raw tuna and I did not die of food poisoning. Since, I am also experimenting with writing Haiku poetry lately. I'm going to go silly on this writing post and do a sushi Haiku just to see if I can pull it off. Hey if you can write a Haiku about your new thing this week let's see it. Haikus are three lines of poetry. Traditionally the lines have the following syllable rythmn 5/7/5 or short/long/short
colorful fish bites
courageous pops in my mouth
cultural tidbits.
Ok I have definintely read and written better Haikus than that.
Henry David Thoreau said "How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live." So this week go out and try something new and then write about it. If you are proud of your adventurous spirit come let me know what new thing you tried this week.
I tried sushi for the first time this year. My sushi loving husband finally got me to try it and I must say I am hooked, except I still won't eat those little orange fish eggs on top of the sushi or raw eel sushi. Still, I tried the raw tuna and I did not die of food poisoning. Since, I am also experimenting with writing Haiku poetry lately. I'm going to go silly on this writing post and do a sushi Haiku just to see if I can pull it off. Hey if you can write a Haiku about your new thing this week let's see it. Haikus are three lines of poetry. Traditionally the lines have the following syllable rythmn 5/7/5 or short/long/short
colorful fish bites
courageous pops in my mouth
cultural tidbits.
Ok I have definintely read and written better Haikus than that.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Happy Birthday Mom
My sis-in-laws always pay homage to family on their b-days. I'm stealing this idea because I think it is a great idea. My Mom's b-day was a few days ago so this is a belated b-day blog. Since, I want Mondays to be my "Write A Little:" day, I'm going to put some excerpts of things I have written about my Mom over the years. But first, I'm going to share a little blast from the past. This is probably my all time favorite picture of my Mom. She is just absolutely beautiful here, 70's jumpsuit and feathered hairstyle aside. I love that I am clinging onto her for dear life too. Sorry its a blurry photo. Its a scan of a copy of a copy.
-- When we are toddlers we want to be just like our mothers. When we are in college we don't want to be anything like her. When we are mothers we find ourselves vascillating between wanting to be like more like her and trying to not be like her. Eventually we find we are very much like her.--
-- excerpts from poem "The Cradle of Your Arms" written just before I left for college.
I suppose you were proud then when you first held me in the loving cradle of your arms. And when I smiled, from reflexes the doctors say, You knew I was remembering that we had made a promise eons ago to reunite as friends. . . .
Now eighteen years of laughter and tears have added up and all the reprimands and moments sprung from misunderstanding, the victories and joys tell me to reach out once again for the cradle of your arms and smile in sweet remembrance and gratitude.
-- Excerpt from "Katarina's Water Pitcher" -- My mother’s giggle, her sacrifices, her strength, dress my mother in beauty every day, even as the years begin to take away her youth. I can never forget her daily ministrations.
I know I have written more things about my mother, I just can't find them. I do love her and think she is just adorable. I am proud to be one of my Mom's "people" as she calls her children. I anxiously await hearing her delighted giggle everytime she sees me after a long absence. My Mom is a shining example of femininity. She made me realize that being a woman is a beautiful blessed experience. I also love passing some of her little traditions on to my children. For years I sang Isaac the same lullaby my Mom sang me. It was a sad day when my son told me he was too old for a nightly song. I often catch my children off guard by saying "Guess What?" as if I have the greatest surprise of their life. "What?" they respond as I once did and still do. "I love you." I reply just like my mother does.
Thanks for everything Mom. Love ya tons.
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