This is how I remember it.........

One thing that I like to do when thinking up a concept of a story is to explore my past for hidden gems that I can tweak and manifest into something else. Sometimes I do not even need to change all that much….our histories are laden with moments of mystery and meaning and what may have seemed straightforward or minimally important can become layered and significant in retrospect.

I am going to recall my childhood; the people and the places that made up my very existence. I will not use names but I am sure some of my fellow cohorts will recognize some of these. Memory is fallible. Memory is unreliable. How and what I remember may contradict greatly with another person’s memory. What doesn’t change is the feel of a memory and I have tried to capture that in my recollection.

• The building is formidable. A three story structure that rises straight from the asphalt playground, uninterrupted by frill or fancy.  It is brick. It is tall. It is unadorned. As with a lot of places in my childhood, I remember the place dimly lit. The long hallway leading to the gym and cafeteria was full of shadows. Even darker than the hallway was the basement classrooms. All dim and feeling as if they should be damp. From the basement up to the second floor equaled three flights of stairs. It may have stemmed from a dream or perhaps I viewed it this way since I was so young, but that last flight of stairs was scary. Crazy scary. Like something you would find in a funhouse. They were steep and seemed to tilt backwards so you felt like you were climbing on an incline. Looking back I think there was a strong psychological factor in the principal being on the top floor.
•    Looking for lice with rickety, shaky fingers. Waiting and dreading your turn, just knowing he was going to find something in your hair. Forget the fact that up until that moment you had not felt the slightest movement…..now every damn follicle in your head was vibrating. If he lingered too long, you were tainted. They tried to keep it discreet but it was of no use. Everyone knew the length of time counted for something.
• She was old. She was ancient and looked like Stone.
• She walked to my house through the snow wearing sandals. (What a fabulous image to base a story off of)
• She ate duck, a greasy black looking meat. I had never even thought of it as an edible animal. She had an entire outfit chosen from a JCPenney catalog. As someone who mixed and matched their outfits depending on what was on clearance, this impressed me greatly.
• The waterbed was always freezing. I would wake up with no blankets on top and no sheet on the bottom. Just bare skin against cold plastic. I bet that is what it would feel like lying on a mortician’s table.
• An endless supply of Doritos. A house that had a soul and whispered.
• They had the same type of canned goods that we had in our pantry. I felt a sense of kinship with her because of this.
•  A bouncy boy with short sleeve oxford tops and brown/black trousers. Constantly taming back the side swept part to his hair.
• His face was highlighted by the glow of the TV and he wasn’t watching it so much as he was watching us. We piled into her bed like sardines but I am pretty sure I did not sleep that night.
• She is beautiful now. She didn’t fit the mold back then.
• He had white spots on his nails. He may have been my first kiss in a shed with a broken deep freeze.
• She ran funny and always wore the sides of her hair up. She broke her front teeth off on a speaker in an old convertible. I loved her because she was silly and sometimes dumb and she made you feel like you had something to offer the world.
• Long silken brown hair that he wore pulled back in a low ponytail. He always grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled it out.

That is just the top layer of memory. Who knows what I could uncover if I explored a bit more.  

However, as I write this, I hold back. I find that I don’t post quite a few of my memories for fear of offending someone. Never mind the fact that what I remember isn’t all that bad. Never mind that life, real life, isn’t all pure and spotless. It is messy and filled with not so good memories too. Surely we all know that this is what creates a whole person. That the bad and negative contribute as much to the total being as the good and positive. I suppose that is why authors put a disclaimer in the front of their novels stating that their work is a piece of fiction and any resemblance or similarity to real life persons is merely coincidental.
Sure it is.  

It takes great courage to look at something with honest, open eyes. It takes just as much courage to read something and recognize one’s own self there, especially if what is being described is less than flattering. But I think that is the true beauty in a book. We read to find ourselves, to recognize and relate to humanity. To know that there is someone else out there who has experienced or felt or hurt or loved the way we do – even if that means there was ugliness involved. I can easily recognize myself in other people’s writing. I can celebrate the fact that there is someone else out there who has thought those same thoughts or acted in a similar manner. But I can do this quietly because the interaction, the moment, is between me and the story. Writing about it though, putting the truth down on paper (because there is always truth in fiction) involves a courage that I don’t yet have.
I am a work in progress. 

Found Joy

Pictures of things that make me smile at home.

Little sparkling rings

An old friend that I miss

Evergreen throughout the house

Our next family vacation plan

Bows for every occasion

A stack of books needing read

My three daughters

Birchbox surprises

More evergreen

My tree

Wedding Memories

An old colander from Europe

Cookie trays

My little kitchen tree

TWINKIES.

My two obsessions.

Garden Journaling

I have kept a garden journal since 2008. I usually start in the dead of winter (when I am dreaming of being outside) by writing down what I hope to plant in the coming Spring. I always start out overly ambitious with a full page or two of fruits and veggies and end up planting about a fourth of that winter-induced insanity. We all know how much surplus a garden can make and after this past year of slipping tomatoes and zucchini in people’s parked cars, I am doubly thankful I cut back.

I revisit my journal during planting time and write down everything that I have chosen to go in the garden. I usually include specifics, like when I planted, where I planted, and anything I have tried differently than the year before. For example, in 2009, I tried mulching between rows and realized I had made a very rookie mistake in 2008 when I had not. There are tips like, “Harvest beets when they are as big as golf balls for maximum flavor” and “Keep mulch 2 inches from plant stems” that I have found online or in magazines and written in my journal, hoping that the act of writing them down would help me remember to follow them. I also include stories, like the year when Jake and I were tilling up the plot and unearthed a rolling mass of black snakes that were hibernating. He didn’t help me much after that and from that day forward I catch myself wondering what is lying directly below wherever I am standing.

Sometimes, I make notes during the growing season, but for the most part I write in the journal at the beginning and end. I make note of what worked fabulously and what didn't. That maybe I should not plant three cherry tomato plants next year and that I should look into a few more herbs. One note this year states NOT to plant the cucumber plant directly in front of the gate door……you would of thought…..but no.

My journal is just a spiral bound, chipboard cover notebook. You could use anything. Dress a plain journal up fancy or buy a journal geared toward gardeners.  You can find dozens on Etsy or Amazon. Write all willy nilly like I do or divide your journal into sections. Maybe you want to list the top 3 garden goals for the year or garden tools you want and need. Maybe you want to plot out the garden or write inspiring quotes throughout. Include pictures or don’t. It doesn't matter because the essence of the journal is to give you a reason to sit back and remember, admire, and dream about that lovely time spent tinkering in  your little green paradise. 

Goodbye Summer....

While Fall is my favorite time of year, I always go through a little bout of depression at the end of summer.   It happens gradually, as my days get busier and life goes from slow and lazy to fast and crazy. And then one day I wake up in a funk and feel like I haven't had a second to breathe, let alone soak in all those little moments that make it worthwhile. I get grouchy. I walk around in a fog. I move from task to task to task and fall into bed each night tired but unsatisfied. Inevitably, after a couple of weeks of this ho-hum attitude, a familiar (yet often absent) part of my psyche knocks on my brain and says
"You do this every year, you know. Get off your self-pitying ass and go outside and breathe in the air for 20 minutes. Don't think. Don't do. Just breathe. And then walk down your porch steps and onto the paved country road and walk. Don't think. Don't do. Just walk. Once you feel the tension ease from your shoulders and your gait is fluid rather than tight, say goodbye to summer. Give it the farewell it deserves. Think fondly of summer vacations and long days filled with nothing but time. Remember bare toes and ponytails, summer dresses and sticky nights. And then let it go."
Fall is here and with it comes the absolute loveliness of crisp nights and pumpkins, bonfires and apples, sweaters and cider. But it also heralds in a time of homework and school functions, volunteering and getting prepared for winter, shorter days and busier schedules. The realization that life is forever about change and balance always shocks me momentarily. There are positives and negatives inherent in every last thing and without one, you cannot have the other. Autumn reminds me of this and by the time our neighbor starts to harvest the corn in front of my house, I am once again in balance.

Life is good.

Is anyone home?

Few can deny the haunting aura of an abandoned place. Beautiful remnants of the past, evidence of the inevitability of change, vessels of memory. Recently I have started to photograph abandoned buildings, barns and houses in the area (from a safe distance :) and hope to post some of my pictures at a later date. I have to admit that I usually get goosebumps or a chill down my back as I am walking away. As if the building itself is saying "See, there you go. Abandoning us too." The following photos are some of the coolest abandoned places ever.

 Cincinnati's Abandoned Subway Depot

Holland Island in Chesapeake Bay

Maunsell Sea Forts in England

Pripyat Ukraine Amusement Park

Institut J. Lemaire in Tombeek, Belgium

There is a great website by photographer Henk Van Rensburgen devoted to abandoned places. If this interests you in the least, you should check it out.
http://www.abandoned-places.com

Moments

Emerson running outside as soon as she awakes, sitting in her bulldog pajamas surrounded by puppies that lick her face and nip her fingers.

Paytan opening up her Senior Box and reading the letter I wrote her that asks her to be patient with me this year if I hold on a little longer and seem to be ever present. She walks over and without a word gives me a long hug.

Kerrigan repeatedly calling her advisor at school her administrator because she keeps forgetting the correct title.

Jake and I sitting in front of our newly built firepit and talking about what the day held. He places his hand on my leg.

Playing tag in the dark with Emerson, her giggles escalating until she collapses from laughing.

Watching Jake shred zucchini for me because I had already done 4 behemoths and my arm was tired.

Burning the potatoes for dinner and Paytan biting into a piece hard as a rock.

Running out to the garden to grab some more tomatoes because I needed 15 pounds to make homemade sauce. Grabbing a handful of basil while I am there.

Taking Emerson for a walk, her demanding to ride in the stroller because her doll would get to tired if they walked.

Paytan and Kerrigan pulling out of the driveway on their way to school. Paytan flips me off as her idea of a friendly goodbye. My jaw drops. They are dying laughing.

All of this and more happened in one short day. I am making the effort to hold on to moments, whether they may seem mundane, frustrating, or inspiring.

There is something beautiful in each.

What are some of the moments that made up your day?

Food Curiousities

I came across a list of food items that I have been meaning to try now for the past year or two. Not sure why it has taken me so long to get through the list of 50 things but at last count I had tried only 14. Probably because food is so darn expensive and who wants to spend 5.99 on something called Seitan if it tastes like a mix of bologna and hominy. So, here it is! Let me know if any of you have tried something on this list and found it to be inedible.

Broccoli Rabe
Fennel
Leeks
Parsnips
Bulgur
Kasha
Millet
Farro
Spelt
Daiya Cheese
Vegan Parmesan
Hemp Milk
NOW Nutritional Yeast Flakes - (Boy that just sounds so appetizing - WHO are their marketing people?)
Fava Beans
Glenny's Brown Rice Marshmallow Treats
Tofurky Cheese Pizza
Brown Rice Syrup

Some of the things I had tried on the list were:

Eggplant - eh.
Plantain - eh.
Pine Nuts - piney.
Vegenaise - This was alright but it went moldy REAL fast.
Nosaya Tofu - good.
Coconut milk ice cream - eh. AND EXPENSIVE
Ginger Chews - These were spicy and I wanted sweet. Boo.
Van's Waffles - eh.

Happy Weekend to all of you! Hope you have great plans as the summer winds down!