I sit here looking at my warming soothing ….

I sit here looking at my warming soothing fireplace, somewhat disconcerted because this was to be a go getum kind of day. Instead it is a day of naps, reading blogs and watching fav movies, which so far have included Ghost and The Blind Side.

It occurred to me that it is okay to succumb to lethargy and snuggling today. Physically, emotionally and spiritually I am drained and now I see today as a day to recharge. Batteries only recharge when plugged in and at rest.
I wasn’t sure I was even capable of a post.

But then my friend Katherine Gordy Levine at emotfit.wordpress.com responded to my ‘I asked for wisdom’ post with this:

“Reminds me of my favorite line from the movie The Field of Dreams.

Some days you win.
Some days you lose.
Some days it rains.

My mother raised me on a number of sayings. Two were: “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” and “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. ”

As she often does Katherine got me thinking about sayings we we raised on way back when in the middle of the last century, and that took me to thoughts of my Dad. I have written about my Mom and others, and although I was always closer to my Dad I have not yet felt ready to share him with y’all quite yet. But sayings we had a’plenty.

A WORD FITLY SPOKEN is like pitchers of silver and apples and gold, the source of course being the bible. Dad had us repeat those words whenever we argued with each other, and chose to ignore the fact it was recited in a pouty grump of a voice. It must have worked as we all speak pretty decently to folk and adulthood seems to have taken care of our need to argue. We all genuinely like each other in addition to the required sibling love and socialize often.

Every ‘goodnight daddy see you tomorrow was met with, “if the good Lord is willin’

Mom’s frequent saying was, ‘You made your bed, now you have to lie in it.’. I had to give this one lots of thought because it seemed to me that I lie in my bed whether I made it or not. Some things I spent a lot of time figuring out I wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.

In the winter with five kids in and out a lot it was: ‘Close the door we’re not heating up the outside.’

Well now I could stretch my mind for more nuggets of the past but will settle for the night and get this posted before my midnight. I’m still kicking around the 365challenge but not sure what one field or area I could blog on 365 of anything…I mean 366challenge.

First Failed Flush of Love – Actually

Ah First Love

First Failed Flush of Love Actually
 
These slightly overcast hot humid July mornings sometimes serve up, in addition to a light sprinkling of temporary rain, a particular memory from a land far away, a time long ago. Actually a time long ago not so much on the land faraway, except it does seem in my mind to have been a million miles away. A land distanced by time I guess.
 
We were going on vacation to a cottage probably somewhere in the Haliburton or Muskoka region of Ontario where lakes meet forest meet city dudes for a limited week or two each year. It had to have been the late fifties, a time before, air conditioning, seat belts, road service and car radios that could receive signals outside a city limits.
 
Cars broke down all the time, or at least threatened to, but were easily fixed with a patch, hot air, or a good smack along it’s frame. I remember one trip where the engine kept overheating and the only solution was to drive with the heat blowing on max on the hottest day of the year.
 
There were seven of us that year, two parents and five kids and I cannot remember what kind of car it was but it easily accommodated four or five wee bodies. I’m thinking we were between twelve and six years old. I was the oldest and considered myself a diva of sorts without knowing that word existed, and for sure possessed that false prepubescent sophistication where really, nothing associated with family was good enough for this princess and Mom and Dad became Mother and Father and really, what kind of car we drove and where we went was below my level of interest..sigh.
 
I don’t remember much about the cottage except it must have had walls, enough bedrooms and probably and indoor loo as that is one memory that would have caught my royal attention.
 
One day on the beach, no, not white sand, probably a stony beach with large rocks lining the shore, I found myself talking to a boy. There was none of the discomfort or awkwardness that preteens often start to feel, just nice pleasant conversation. It turned out that he lived very close to my house and knew my brother. Then the conversation took a turn that screamed, ‘hormones at work here!’ but of course I would not recognize that message for a few years.
 
“How old are you?” he asked.
 
Not sure what to say here as all of a sudden it occurred to me that I did not want him to know I was just a silly kid (it seems the diva devil flees in the face of true love). After a pause I countered brilliantly with, “How old are you?” feeling much like Baby must have felt when she uttered the words, “I carried a watermelon.”
 
“Fifteen,” he replied, head down, hands in his pockets and kicking dirt with his right foot.
Whew, I knew it was safe to lie since he obviously was not fifteen.
 
“Well I’m fourteen,” and he nodded. He said that his family was going home the next day, (and mine still had a week to go), and asked if he could call me for a date sometime.
 
Our week passed and I soon forgot about the encounter but a few days after returning home I got a phone call. Now phone calls back then were rare. No one actually phoned unless there was a specific purpose to said call. And there were party lines so every conversation could be heard by most of the neighborhood.
 
Anyway, the call came on a Saturday morning and he asked if I could go to the matinee that afternoon with him?
I asked my Mom, and explained who this fellow was, and my brother corroborated his decent character, and Mom said yes.
 
I was a bit in awe at the potential of a first date but was pretty cool and calm about it, while my mother made me put on an actual dress and comb my hair (I was pretty much a tomboy like Trixie Belden then so gave no thought to ‘dressing up.’
 
Then I waited. And waited. And waited. I was not particularly upset, just a little confused maybe but I had not invested any hopes and dreams in this guy so it was no biggie, although looking back; it probably was for my mother.
 
Later that day a hurried whispered call came from my suitor who apologized for not showing up because his Mom had gotten mad at him and grounded him. He sounded totally humiliated and embarrassed.
“No problem,” said I, quite sincerely and meaning it. And then I promptly forgot about it, except every now and then on a hot humid overcast, July morning, my mind does that little time travel thing, where I find myself standing on a stony beach.
 

*The ‘Actually’ series are stories of childhood and family and memories.

Thanks to Photobucket for providing photos.

A Poem for Mama Kat

Prompts:
 
1.) List 10 things you wish you could say to strangers who share unsolicited advice about your parenting skills.
2.) Write a poem inspired by a picture you took last week. Share both!
3.) Create a bucket list of 50 things you want to do this summer (with or without the kids!)
4.) A country you would like to visit.
5.) What is something you could stand to learn from your significant other?
 
2) Write a poem inspired by a pic you took.
 
A quiet night two boys sleeping
When the clouds gathered
Then two boys weeping.
 
Thunder shook the walls around
And one voice calling
Gramma, GRAMMA! sounds.
 
I flew down the hall with a plan,
Banish these fears
Make fun if I can.
 
Two boys one bed shaking, forlorn,
Fingers in ears pressed
Yea! I love a storm!
 
Storms are great said I above the noise
The angels are bowling
Don’t you love it boys?
 
Not so much it seems so I stayed
Telling stories fun,
About nature made.
 
The source of fear caused a blister
Not easy to calm
The source was Twister.
 
We huddled twice at midnight and two
Uncertain smiles now
As the storm still brewed.
 
Finally the storm abated,
The children asleep,
And still I waited
 
And watched in wonder two wee boys
Whose only call rang
In the midst of noise
 
GRAMMA!

and the thunder rolls

music

to

my

ears!