Daisies

When the garbage truck swerved
Into my lane,
I was thinking of daisies,
And how they lay thick
In the ditches.
Dainty swath of white,
As if someone drew a finger
Down through a puddle of lace.
I hadn't a thought of how Life depends
On the carelessness of a CD change,
Or the lighting of a cigarette.
The balance hanging, every second,
In the hands of strangers.
To save myself,
I yanked the wheel to the right, and mowed
Down several feet of daisies
Nodding their heads cheerfully
By the wayside.
Those innocents
Crushed into the dirty shoulder.
Broken.
And really, what's the difference
Between us?

CRAIG

So, this morning, we lost Craig Byrne. Last time I saw him, a couple of weeks ago at Wellspring's Graduation, we joked about his sharing oxygen with me from his recently attached oxygen tank, and he gave me one of those famous Craig-winks and said "Catch ya later, Em." Tears welled up in my eyes as he walked away because oddly enough, I got the feeling he meant LATER, as in WAY later. And he did. Craig has been an amazing friend, one of my most devoted dancers, the dad of Eli's best buddy, and the strongest, most positive fighter of cancer I've ever seen. You know how, after someone dies, everyone acts like they were just THE most wonderful person, no matter what? Well, he pretty much was, for real. And he made everybody feel OK about this.. it's sad and unfair and I've cried all day, but if he was OK with this, then we've gotta be too. Somehow. Rock on, Craig. Catch ya later.

Sawmill.

Heat.
Waves off the roof.
Ripples above warped metal.
Out behind the sawmill.
Chewed pine aroma tangled with
The over sweet scent of wild strawberries,
Crushed underfoot.
The blade whines,
The great, green trees sway
In sympathy as
A brief breeze,
Carries a pitchy tang.

Inside, my father pulls the levers,
Rusty fingers poking through worn gloves,
He sings over the ancient, sputtering motor.
Smoking and belching, it will never quit.
Forever sparking to brutal life
When he turns the oily key.

And back here, I hold a patched shovel,
Because I come from a people,
That patch shovels,
Pulling the ever growing dust mound
Back away from the pipe that spews it.
The remains of log and steel encounter.
My job for the morning.
No hurry.
A wet circle rings the pile,
As finally, in June, the inner ice thaws,
The deep glassy heart, melting at last.
Never a hurry.

It is enough, right now,
To simply exist.
To look at my shovel and it's
Riveted tin patch,
The moisture seeping
From the crumbling, yellow hill at my feet,
The berry stains edging my boot soles.
To think of the trees,
And my father, and his gloves,
And his voice,
Raised in a pure baritone
Over everything else.
To be someplace
Because you were put there.
Because you belong.

Yes, back here,
Amidst, sound and smell,
Sun, and coarse, golden chaff,
An itching cling on my damp skin,
I am alone, and never alone.
Questions, questions, questions dissolve,
Surrounded by what and where and when.
Happy.
I know who I am.
Oddly satisfied.
A strange peace, raw and loud,
Keeps me.
Fills me with home.
Home.

Long Overdue Post

Yes, I'm a bad, bad blogger these days...This place feels like a ghost town! Well, better late than never, right? The boys are OBSESSED with cowboys lately. No more pirates, no more knights, just COWBOYS. They have their own playlist of favorites on my itunes...if I have to hear the Bonanza theme song one more time... Anyhow, exciting news: E lost his first tooth day before yesterday, the bottom right, which, I think was the first tooth he ever got too. He'll start first grade this fall and the Little Bub & Av will start in the Butterfly Garden (Nursery/Kindergarten). It feels sad to me in a way. I wish they could stay little and snuggly and lispy and silly forever. E already acts like I'm the embarrassing Dork-Mom, cramping his style when he's hanging with his gang of cool dudes. At his end of school picnic they were like miniature 13 year olds, tormenting the girls, getting into trouble, and steering clear of the moms. I want my babies back! Sniff. The boys fight like nobody's business lately too. Holy, holy. Makes me insane. And when Av comes over...watch out! Otherwise, we are all busy, busy, busy. Dance classes are going well, some nights way busier than others. Zumba is filled to the max, but clogging is down to a half dozen students. Hip Hop depends, some weeks it's full and sometimes only a handful of dancers. The kiddie Ballet and Creative Movement is swamped for the tiny tot's class, but only a small group in the older kid's class. And Swing this session has just two-four couples. All in all, it's working out for me, and I like what I'm doing, how many people can say that?! We have 567542657087255 projects we should be getting done around here this summer, but as usual, we are procrastinating...plus as soon as Justin gets home from work, I GO to work, so finding time for anything else has been tricky. I feel a bit overwhelmed sometimes, the responsibility of having everything organized, with lesson plans, and new choreography - it takes away all my free time, not that I had that much to begin with. Always a few cons to go along with the pros, I guess! I just feel bad because the kids aren't getting the attention they used to, and now everything's going so fast, I don't want to miss out, you know? Not to mention the fact that I'm just plain BEAT at the end of the day. Speaking of which, I think I'm headed to bed now all. Perhaps I'll be on top of my game and post again in the near future? We shall see! XX00 -Em

SUMMER!!!!

I know, I know, I've neglected this blog terribly lately...SO much going on around here! We got back from an awesome vacation at the beach cabin last week, had a million projects going on around here, etc, etc, etc. I tend to leave my laptop (which is newer and faster than Justin's, and has all my photos stored on it) upstairs to use when I put the boys to bed, so whenever I'm downstairs poking around on the computer, I don't have access to my photos and stuff....a testimony to how lazy I really am, I guess. I can't even drag my sorry butt upstairs and get my laptop. ANYWAY, a beautiful Memorial day weekend. We spent it relaxing for once. No frantic last minute parade float to put together, no potlucks to cook for, no running late for any place...nice. We just wandered around town, watched the parade, enjoyed the festivities, ate bbq chicken, sat in the river... I'd better be careful, I could get used to this! No, this week it's back to normal life again, kicking it off with a rather late and harried arrival at school this morning, with a still half-asleep kid in tow. OK, heading out in the rain into town for groceries, since there is nothing to eat in the house. I'll possibly upload some recent pictures later this evening if I have time. Just wanted to let everyone know that all is well, life is good, summer is here and I'm a happy camper.

Northern New England Journey Cover

Check it! We're famous! Sort of.

Journaling

In my closet, a sizable Tupperware tote, crammed packed with little books...some cloth-bound with hot pink flowers, some striped, some rather plain and dignified. I started keeping a diary when I was seven, filling several a year until I hit my late-twenties and things started getting too busy to sit down with a pen...instead, my blog sort of turned into my journal. (At some point, I'll have to print out all these entries and stick them together to add to my collection.) From ages 8-10, approximately, I was obsessed with drawing maps in them, little diagrams of our property, marking out where the tree house, woodshed, cat's grave, well and swing set were located. And of course maps of everyone else's houses as well...I loved drawing my grandparent's house because I could map out the hidden passageway in their playroom. Ages 10-12 held mostly angry outbursts at my parents for making us move/live like pioneers/eventually start public school at age 13. 12-15 was full of lovestruck doodles and scotch-taped in memorabilia. 15-18 covered my trying to get out of one mess after an other. 18-20 weirdly half adult, half child, changes, impulsive behaviors, growing up. 20-22 included young married life, job complaints, badly written and incredibly boring. 22-26 The Search for who I am/where I belong. 27-32 Children...and I rarely write, although Eli has many, many sheets of paper with his important maps covering them...I suppose it's time for his own journal. I noticed that I used to start every blank book with a little synopsis of my life at that time, in list form, since I have always been a list-making freak. Name: Emily. Age: 13. Best friends, pets, favorite color, food, school subject, romantic interest, books, movies, songs, likes, dislikes, height, weight, greatest wish, biggest fear, etc, etc, etc. I kept this up through almost all my journals into adulthood, although the answers to my own created-at-nine-years-old, goofy questions got increasingly sarcastic as time passed. As it's been many years since my personal questionnaire has been filled in, I thought I would recreate the Life List, in it's original form, with today's answers.

Name: Emily

Age: (Must I?!?) 1977, you do the math

Best Friend: I would have to say Kendra, as I have for the last 20 years at least. (Although, once, I think she showed up in a brand new category called "People Who Are Jerks" Ha. Sorry Kay!)

Pets: Captain Burdock, the crazed Aussie/"Chug" that makes me want to eat my own brain once a day, and close to a dozen Aracauna chickens, depending on what the dog is doing right now...

Favorite Color: I love red.

Favorite Food: Strawberries, cheese, spinach salad, cheese, peppers, cheese...

Favorite School Subject: Well now, that one's a bit tricky... IF I was in school still, It might STILL be art or maybe History these days. I might even like GYM CLASS now. Shocker.

Boyfriend (Yes, even at 9): Ha. No comment. Kidding Dear.

Favorite Book: There are so many! Just reread Solar Storms, an old fav, but really I could never pick.

Favorite Movie: Hard to say, I'm terrible at picking, it changes so often, and my taste runs the gantlet. Anne Of Green Gables still tops my chart, nothing deep, but comforting and sweet. And you know...any cheesy dance flick...

Favorite Song: This is sort of like the book question. I can't even make a guess, Too wishy-washy and I love so many songs.

Likes: Summer, boats, dance, cameras, animals, clothes (sigh. I know, I KNOW.), skating, snowboarding, music, monotonous craft projects like quilting, avocados, satire, writing, beaches, road trips, oranges, checking out different people's toes, gnomes, Snickers, worthless knick-knacks, horrible jokes, curly hair, costumes, musty smelling basements, spicy food, kissing, (those last two, not in that exact order) salamanders, making lists, hiking, lemonade, babies, Reese's Pieces, absolutely any type of museum, stone walls, cowboy boots, holidays, tea, exploring, soccer, poetry, dark chocolate, red wine, lilacs, eggplant, the smell of hay, rocks, watching fire, boardwalks, hats, waterfalls, eye contact, very, very hot showers, peaches, asparagus, tire swings, pearls, stacking wood, piglets, wind-up toys, having my hair brushed, fly fishing without a hook, stained glass, Barbara Kingsolver, mis-matched socks, nostalgia, barns that have been turned into houses, trampolines, running, archery, beeswax, wool, air hockey, real hugs, ceilidhs, stilettos, crank powered flashlights, hot cereal, mysteries, wainscoting, old theatres, NPR, giant sunglasses, tequila, yard sales, cheesecake, family...

Dislikes: vomit, spiders, zits, talking on the phone (I have a wee phobia occasionally...possibly since I can't HEAR anything after the onslaught of children),fish, raw tomatoes, idiots, mushrooms, hospitals, fevers, being broke, more than three lanes on a highway, watching baseball (just kill me now), roller coasters, wasps, sushi, cookie dough, flying, heights, elevators, lap dogs with no personality, those hand-knit dolls that cover toilet paper, television, maple syrup, explosive substances, electric fences (terrified of these), ferrets, snobs, nettles, early mornings, plastic, Disney crap, washing dishes, clowns or mimes, Yatzee, granny panties, SUVs, whining, horoscopes, and....that's about it.

Height: Five foot two...been that way for awhile now

Weight: 105 (I only listed bra size once and then gave that up when it became obvious it wasn't ever changing.)

Biggest Wish: Do I go all World Peace here, or for myself? (In the past, this one fluctuated from general good wishes for all, to the selfish extreme of wishing for three more wishes, or having Someone fall in love with me.) I want my loved ones & myself to be healthy and happy.

Biggest Fear: I'm afraid of losing people...I hate to even write it.


So, there's the list. Of course other fabulous categories were added over time, here and there: Bra Size, People Who Are Jerks, Favorite Number(?), Favorite Place, Sports and People, but you get the gist of it. I love that I accidentally made these clear cut memories for myself, they are funny, yes, but also spot on. I can see a whole snapshot of Emily at 10 or 15, just by glancing over a page penned in fluorescent green ink, the I's dotted with little hearts.