if you only walk long enough
October 29, 2010 | Filed Under ordinary | 4 Comments
for lola’s birthday i splurged on this teacup and saucer that was drawn upon by the wonderful cory godbey. he had them at his alice show and i knew lola had to have one. she likes to drink her coffee in this cup when i drink mine. i need to do tea, but there’s always coffee standing there waiting for me, instead. the saucer has a friendly cheshire cat on it. i will take a picture another time, perhaps.
ernie is gone to nyc for most of the week. i have eaten too much candy corn and done all the laundry that needed to be done and after that i did some more. when he’s gone for a few days i basically realize what a boring, socially unexciting person i actually am. it’s a good thing that he’s usually here.
(the trampoline is dangerous)
October 28, 2010 | Filed Under familial, ordinary | 2 Comments
in theory i really do like it when the kids are staccato jumping on their beds, when they are shrieking with frenzied laughter while jumping from chair to chair, from coffee table to couch, from couch to floor to chair. as long as i don’t have to see it i don’t mind it. jumping on furniture, especially on beds, seems to be a childhood necessity, one that i happily remember myself. but practically it drives me a little bit bonkers. i feel a burning wash of fury when things are broken. i cannot bite my tongue to keep from moralizing as i go to patch up bloody gashes. mostly it’s really just not all that terrific to spend the whole day cleaning what the fun left behind. the mess, the cushions torn asunder, the blankets crammed beneath the beds into the deepest corners, the cheerios and crackers and raisins knocked to the floor and smashed underfoot, the whooping and hollering and red cheeked breathlessness, these are the wine that flows like a dark red river after all of their stomping and trampling and leaping high into the sky of the house.
(it is possible that i myself need to jump on the bed for awhile for good measure, maybe with a bowl of goldfish in one hand and a wooden sword in the other.)
good enough now
October 27, 2010 | Filed Under familial, ordinary | Leave a Comment
all day yesterday there was a hovering heat in the day, an envelope of the hot hugging us like a furrowed brow of worry. here, there, again for a blink, a cold string of air through the screen. i am sick, my head with a heat and a hammer repeating himself right behind the eyes. i made pizza because i said that i would, humidity on the side of the dough as it ballooned in the bowl, under the towel. later, after dinner and leave it to beaver, after the tucking of children, the stacking of books, after the house is a quiet, sleepy place, after these and finally, at last, the rain. a thousand pulses in watery heartbeats pounding against the house, the blades of grass, the asphalt black beneath. thunder with a shake and a crash. lola woke up. i could hear her through the windows behind me, her cry coming out of her window, through the rain and into mine.
no black plume
October 26, 2010 | Filed Under lists | Leave a Comment
things kids like this week
carve pumpkins
make another fire
allow candy before lunch, at least once
read the whole stack of books, back to back
buy crackers
buy feathers
watch repetitive bike tricks
have gum in pocket of purse at all times
sew those costumes right away
weekending
October 25, 2010 | Filed Under weekending | 1 Comment
we had another simple weekend being together, working together. there was a reasonable nap in front of the black stallion (a beautiful film, great images, and mickey rooney can’t be beat), some thrifting that involved some filthy digging and finding a new shop, new school books in the mail, glittery gold nail polish, a little nacho libre (enough to motivate the boys to choose halloween costumes, yes!), food, cookies, churchy opportunities, a bath for the dog.
i cared for my plants, cared for my dog, fretted over the cat who got into a fight and has a chewed-on ear to show for it. i made homemade salsa and black beans. ernie played hours of battleship with the boys. lola drank gatorade and rode her tricycle ten miles around the kitchen.
i started friday with a long due mopping of the kitchen floor. it felt good. i love a clean floor. but it did take a long time and a lot of orchestration to get the kids in one place for a long time so that i could clean the floor and let it dry. there were many interruptions and i remembered why it’s been at least eighty years since i’ve mopped a floor at all, or even thought about doing so.
on sunday i got to go through a house of a friend from church. she’s lived there for 20, 30 years? i don’t know. for a long time. it’s a wonderful place, a little gem of a house with books everywhere and healthy houseplants, floors that go downhill, pretty things everywhere, quirky furniture and the comfortable feeling that every house should have. i left completely inspired and light inside. i’m going back with my camera. i have permission.
bring me my boots and shoes
October 22, 2010 | Filed Under familial | Leave a Comment
the boys are asleep in this room. there is a lot of love that bursts inside of me when i find them sleeping in this mess and click off their lights and step on legos and small dinosaurs on my way to the door in the dark.
rain-swollen river
October 20, 2010 | Filed Under ordinary, royal buffet | Leave a Comment
this golden stitchery bird garland will be in the shop today.
every time i go into the garden to look for a few tomatoes i always find some. i like this kind of surprise and amazement. halloween air and garden tomatoes are sometimes friends, it seems.
rain through the windows this morning, cold and slow. henry woke up before the rest of us to ride his bike in small circles up hills and around trees in the backyard. he came in with his his hair wet and curling. there is a place by the door smeared muddy, still-wet boots in a pile.
now there is a pale sun in a slant over the trees, the clouds holding rain over a glorious blue. the dog is crazy in the yard for the wet grass, the chipmunks, the neighbor dog sniffing at the fence.
moonlight overthrew you
October 19, 2010 | Filed Under extraordinary, lists | 4 Comments
introductions
this is the moon white bright on the pavement. these are unwashed plates in the sink. this is the floor that is a honey wood in the sunshine. this is the cat watching green eyed on the stairs. these are the children pulling in and out and back again, in tides and lunar pulls in strands before you. this is a box by the door full of worries. this is the smoke from the fire that burned into coals that we turned over long into the night. this is the bird that my grandmother gave me. this is an untidy stack of yesterdays on a chair to be forgotten or sat upon. this is a red horse i remember, trotting and walking into the shade and into the sun again. these are the shoes that i shouldn’t have worn to the party. these are the kisses i’ve given by thousands and again a few hundred. this is the fish in his gray murky water. these are the waves of wind on the grass. this is a careful bowl full of thoughts and beliefs about God. these are the clothes that were tossed to the floor. this is the dog that is happy and scratching. this is the garden i often neglected. these are the books i’ve read many times. these are the books i never will read. this is the pot i will use for the dinner. this is the mirror that knows how i’ve changed. this is the ball the children were rolling. this is the ring given by my lover. this is the piano with a few broken strings. this is a rock they claim came from the moon. this is the first white piece of the day. this is the sleepy hour after noon. this is the night when the dishwasher hums and the lights are flicked off and the air from october slips in from the window to rest on the floor for the bare feet of the morning.
weekending
October 18, 2010 | Filed Under weekending | 4 Comments
my weekends revolve around food, it seems. food and getting things done. i guess most of my days revolve around these things with a sprinkling of school and chaos thrown in. even though saturday sort of escaped from us and although i may have ulcers from the anxiety i feel when having to ask someone to do something for us (like take us home from church, or watch the boys while we take two trips in the truck), i’ve nothing to complain about.
this weekend we made pizza, baked bread, made pimento cheese, and ate all of those things. not at once, over the days. i met my newest nephew isaac (very delicious baby) and spent some time alone at the thrift store (even lola doesn’t want to be there as long as i do anymore, for shame. there will come a day, i hope. i’m already thinking ahead to the years of yard sailing with that girl). we worked it out to get to church despite our broken car, took the boys’ bunk beds apart and rearranged their room, watched a little pippi longstocking before taking a long nap, had some quality coffee times, washed a lot of dishes, painted my fingernails red, read a magazine, folded a hundred years worth of laundry, made my bed, read lola’s favorite book of late too many times, played uno and won, took a walk, hosted a somersault contest, let the boys hack down the rest of the garden plants, thought a few times about giving the dog a bath but didn’t, and listened to my husband write music at the piano in the next room.
regime of the child
October 15, 2010 | Filed Under home learning, lists, ordinary | 2 Comments
wake, lego, first breakfast, go outside, wrestle dog, feed dog, go inside, lego, second breakfast, school, snack, draw, read, school, lego, lunch, school, go outside, run with dog, climb on playhouse, climb up trees, wield stick, shout, go inside, lego, snack, draw, tape stuff together, go outside, wrestle dog, climb on playhouse, make mud, go inside, tv, snack, lego, go outside, wield stick, dig hole, go inside, draw, tape stuff together, lego, go outside, climb on playhouse, climb up trees, wield stick, shout, go inside, beg for snack, tape stuff together, go outside, dig hole, wield stick, wield slingshot, wield butterfly net, run fast, go inside, dinner, bathe, books, to sleep, to dream, to wake . . . . .