When wind howls like a banshee to fill the dark night air and monsters lurk in closets or in creakings up the stair, when your brother knows they’re out there––these creatures he can’t see, when nightmares wake you up at night and you have to pee but daren’t leave your bed in fear those creatures will come “getcha” (all those night-born monsters that come out at night to fetch ya,) or when sister wets the bed again and seeks a drier nest, for lying on her soggy sheets, she knows she’ll never rest–– it’s times like these when all the kids form a small tribunal and determine that their parents’ bed should be declared communal.
What do you consider is the most perfect food for you? Ham and Scalloped potatoes. My mother’s was the best ever and I’ve never duplicated it.
Are you focused on today or tomorrow?Today, but I’m taking tomorrow into account.
If you could interview one of your great-great-great grandparents, who would it be (if you know their name) and what would you ask? Rather than a great-great-great, I’d interview my father’s father, Walter, because he died before I was born and I’d love to ask him what it was like for a gentle baker from Holland to be henpecked by his wife into driving out to South Dakota by covered wagon with his two young daughters and building a shanty and turning into a farmer–something he knew nothing about. (My grandmother and 3 year old son, my father, came out by train a year later after he’d set everything up.) I would love to hear his side of the story and experience his gentle personality.
What inspired you or what did you appreciate this past week? Feel free to use a quote, a photo, a story, or even a combination. I appreciate being with my long-time friend Patty, my sister and brother-in-law Jim and my godson Riley and his two adorable boys. You’ve seen them before. Here they are in their newest incarnations:
We were small fry in a grown up world, our dresses starched, our hair tight-curled on a candlestick by mothers who scrubbed the faces of small brothers with fingers they had spit upon to purge the dirt they’d lit upon.
We had no choice in any of this. Nor in the neighbor lady’s kiss. Sour and moldy though she might smell, we pretended we loved it well. So went the life in days gone by so long as you were just small fry.
Now children pose for selfies and diss the thought of an old lady’s kiss. They refuse to run through traces. Don’t allow spit-scrubbed-at faces. Skirts go unstarched, hair goes uncurled now that children rule the world!
Morrie had a wonderful time on the beach yesterday with these three enthusiastic playmates and for once I had two hands free to snap photos. And in case you wonder, no that little girl isn’t holding him by the tail!!
These are priceless, so please click on first one so you can see them all enlarged in a slideshow. Some of them made need a few seconds to come into focus. Be patient.