my boots became lighter & all is sunny & warm...

I know that yesterday was the first day of summer, but I have, here, a story that takes place on a blustery day in March, 2006. Well, it's not much of a story, really, as it's not being told by a storyteller. It's more of a sequence of events or an account. Emmeli was almost 2 years old at the time, so this was a long time ago, but I actually still remember it quite often. My memory loves those soft, little mittens and that sweet, sure voice. You'll see what I mean. I've thought about blogging this before, but each time I think, surely I've already blogged about that, & I better check to see if it's already here somewhere on the blog. Then I think, it doesn't matter, I'll just blog it again. Then for whatever reason, I just don't, unless I really have already blogged it, in which case it is now here 'who knows' how many times. Either way, I found this in an old journal I had from before I ever knew anything about blogs, and here it is as I wrote it in 2006 word-for-word.

(March 2, 2006) Today we took off Emmeli's baby bracelet. It was beginning to get too tight. *frowns* Last week we were up at Aunt Becky & Uncle Daniel's house. We had lots of fun playing with Iain, Claire, & Fiona. We played outside on the snow "mountain" built up by the snow plow. We also went sledding at Kiwanis on the new sleds that Grandpa made. That was lots of fun. The sleds made it all the way to the bottom of the hill, even though the snow was like powder. Hannah & Emmeli & I headed home a little early, because Hannah's little cheeks were getting blistered by the cold. Hannah rode back to Grandma & Grandpa's in Aunt Becky's car, while I walked back, carrying Emmeli. It was cold and windy and I was already a little tired from sledding. There was a steep driveway that I had to hike up to get back, and I think I must have been huffing & puffing a little. I was holding Emmeli in front with her little legs wrapped around my waist. I had her snuggled in tight to try to shield her from the wind & cold, though the wind was not so bad here because of the trees. Also, I think she was leaning back a little to compensate for my leaning forward as I walked up the hill. As we made our ascent, Emmeli took her soft, little mittens and held on tightly to my face. She looked me in the eyes and said, "I gotchoo." It was so sweet. And she was serious too. She held on firmly to my cheeks all the way up the hill. It turned out that we must have noticed the blisters on Hannah's cheeks right away, because they cleared right up when we all got in out of the snow. Snow & Daniel came home soon after we got there, along with Grandpa, Dad, Iain, & Claire. Grandma & Fiona had ridden back in the car with Aunt Becky & Hannah.

So, it's really sweet to have this paper memory of a trip up north, & cousins, & sledding, & grandpa's who make things, but the part which I have written down so many times in my mind is this... It's the scene in which I am toting something well worth the effort, but quite heavy nonetheless, uphill, in the snow. It doesn't have to be snowing outside to understand this concept. Sometimes, no matter what the weather, life gives us heavy boots. To this day, this same little person wants to get at me, square in the face, eye to eye, & deliver some sweet word of encouragement. I have lots of little cheermongers about, but due to this particular incident, with this one, I think I'll always feel baby mittens & hear "I gotchoo, Mommy."

 

now is a thing which you cannot repeat...

This is something like the start of a poem, which i may never write, but still it's all i've got:

 

Yesterday i wanted to write a poem, about you & me,

But i had not the strength nor the heart to move

It was too lovely & i too weak, as we rested there

And now i've forgotten the words

We were on the bed, it was not made

And the room was still messy

With the ironing board still out & unfolded laundry

But you & i, we rested there, in front of the fan, numbing our ears

with the still, steady, slow rise and fall of our comingled, undisturbed breathing

at last you slept lightly, with your knees tucked into the crook of mine

And i had not a care in the world, but a tearing at my heart

To wrestle away & pin down those carefree words

The ones which were shuffling around, trying to assemble

They were looking for the right combination, or forming a shape

Something like a feather to keep in my pocket

But i could not do it, I could not get away from you there with me

And anyway, i know cause i've tried, but a feather is never a key

 

then she realized that gum parkers are super gross...

Did you ever have a gum parker when you were a kid? Grossest thing ever invented, but I had one, & I used to park my gum there. In case you have no idea what I'm talking about, a gum parker is a little ceramic dish used for holding your abc gum, temporarily, while you eat dinner or take a nap. Then when you are done, you just unpark it and put the vile wad back into your mouth. (ABC stands for Already Been Chewed, btw.) That's really embarrassing. I can't believe I'm telling you this. Really, I'm just sort of grasping at straws, because what you don't know is that I have written a blog every day for the past three days at least, but none of them have been posted. I'm in a rut as they say, and can't seem to break out. Sometimes when I don't blog for awhile, it's because I'm just too busy, or I get out of the habit, or I have nothing to say. Currently, that is not the case. I have so much to say that the blogs are backing up in my brain. It's quite painful. In attempt to relieve some of the pressure, I've even taken to jotting down a list of future titles. Yesterday, I even helped Emmeli go through her sketchbook and come up with a title for every drawing, just because. Aside from snappy new titles, however, I just can't seem to spit it out, which brings me back to the abc gum. That's actually what reminded me of the gum parker. Most of these unpublished blogs are saved, and after already having chewed them to bits, sometimes I wake up the next day, still thinking about what I wrote the day before, and I go back to chewing and re-chewing. So, I'm sure if I were to ever publish them, finally, they'd be so void of flavor that you'd just be like, um... no thanks, I have my own gum. So, enough about that. Sorry to gross you out. Oh, but one more thing, I think I might have a bit of stagefright. I think that's what the problem is. I recently invited three new friends to my blog and I think I'm feeling a little insecure about that, but not to worry, I have a plan. Just a few more completely humiliating blogs like this one and I'll be sufficiently embarrassed not to care anymore.

 

placid gratifications...

Here I go. I'm going to exit this world of pretty pictures, poignant punning, & punctilious punctuation. I'm going to tend my lettuce and pick some daisies and recycle some weeds. It has been said that he who clears a field renders a better service to mankind than all the scribblers in Europe.* I don't know if I fully agree with that statement, but for now, I think I will just go along.

*It was Voltaire who said that; it just sounded weird & nerdy to throw that in at the end of the sentence. I debated leaving out the reference, but I couldn't do it, so I'm telling you now.

 

handpicked, just for you...

Here is a poem Hannah wrote a couple of years ago. Enjoy.

Achoo, Achoo the spoon

How sweet you are, the tea sets swoon

They smile & sigh with no ill eye

Until the kettle cries, up so high

On the stove, singing and shouting,

"Here comes the maid! to make her mistress some tea!"

The kettle jumps with glee

So do the tea sets, Achoo the spoon, and the saucer

 

a fond farewell...

Once upon a time there was a blog about the misadventures of a family bike trip to the park. It was a bit of a train wreck. It had some lovely elements and beautiful memories of laughter and jollity, but it's gone now. (May it rest in peace.) As a note to self, just remember... the sweetness of Emmeli riding her little heart out with a backpack full of ice water and pickles, and a tiny green inchworm named Enchilada. I should go lest I ruin it again.