Overheard . . .
25 Apr 2009 Leave a Comment
in A Zany Life, Mouths of Babes Tags: family
My 9 year old just asked my 7 year old, “Do you know what reanimated means?”
She answered, “Yeah. Come back to life.”
How does she know that?
The Only Thing We Have To Fear . . .
22 Apr 2009 Leave a Comment
in Aha!, Writers Write Tags: asking for help, perception, writers, writing
A woman approached me on the back loop at the park this week.
“There’s a deer over there.” Dressed in workout clothes, she appeared sane, but her voice trembled.
I responded carefully. “Lots of animals live in this park. It’s a wildlife preserve.”
“But we’re in the middle of a city.”
“Some people leave grain for them. In the drought, they haven’t had much grass to graze on.”
“Will they hurt me?” She was close to backtracking the other direction.
I kept moving forward. “They won’t hurt you. Deer aren’t as aggressive as dogs.”
“But they’re big, and so close.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
She followed, putting me between her and the hoofed assailants. Around the corner, two small does were munching grass and nibbling oak leaves. So focused on breakfast, they barely lifted their heads as we passed.
The woman said, “It’s my first time to walk here. I usually walk down Henderson Pass. Today, I came looking for a change.”
Henderson Pass isn’t very residential. I wouldn’t feel safe walking in that traffic. Yet, this lady was afraid of a two small deer, too tame to run away. I haven’t seen her since. The park was too wild for her, I guess.
Our conversation made me wonder. What harmless thing frightens me? How often do I adjust my steps to avoid a situation because I haven’t had experience with it?
Easter Traditions
12 Apr 2009 Leave a Comment
in Joined at the Heart Tags: creativity, family, writers, writing
Our holiday celebration is full of tradition, just not the standard Easter Bunny approach that I grew up with.
Easter baskets are built around a theme. This year it was beach towels, water guns, flip-flops and swim goggles in a metal bucket.
We hunt plastic eggs in the backyard. The eggs are filled with coins. It rained last night. Coins are more weather and ant tolerant than chocolate.
After counting our money, we decorate eggs with markers, building egg men and funny faces, along with flowery squiggles and hearts. We eat the eggs as soon as they are all decorated.
After breakfast, we go back to the patio for a cascarone smash. Everyone gets confettied, even the dog. She doesn’t care for it much.
That’s it for the formal celebration. The rest of the day is spent playing, eating, and being together. Happy Easter!
April Garden Journal
11 Apr 2009 Leave a Comment
in cottage garden Tags: cottage garden, garden
The tomatoes, peppers, squash, cucumbers, and green beans are in the ground. San Antonio missed a late freeze, so I think the veggies are home free now. I liked the parsley border that I planted last year so much that I lined the edge of another bed with parsley seed. It all sprouted, I’ll be able to supply garnish to the masses.
Below are a few pictures of what’s been blooming this month:
When I carried this plant out of the garden center, a lady stopped me in the parking lot, rolled down her car window and asked, "What is that? I've got to have one of those." They are Delphiniums. I had no luck growing them from seed, so I bought a pot full. They've been beautiful for a month now--definitely worth the effort.
The trellis pieces Bacon and I built don't look like much, but that's the point. The grapevines and roses to appear to float on the fence. The trellises are attached to the metal fence posts with joists screwed into the back of the wooden plank. The arms were made for hanging baskets. The connecting rope is jute. Very simple.
This antique rose is called Valentine. Bacon bought the bush last year for Cherry on Valentine's Day.
This Peacock Echeveria is the inspiration for a scene in my book.
Rosa Parks is Chinese
10 Apr 2009 Leave a Comment
in Aha!, Joined at the Heart, Mouths of Babes, Writers Write Tags: creativity, family, Rosa Parks, writers, writing
At least Tuesday night, she was. Cherry’s third grade class performed first person narratives based the lives of historical figures. She portrayed Rosa Parks. Dressed in her denim blazer and black skirt, her hair pulled back in a low bun, she sat in a chair and talked about the beginning of the civil rights movement. Born a world away in the foothills of the Himalayas, Cherry’s life couldn’t be more removed from Montgomery, Alabama in the 1950′s. But for one night only, she explained what it meant for Rosa Parks not to give up her seat on the bus. Her performance proved that we’re more alike than we are different. Here is the monologue she researched and wrote all by herself.
Hi, I’m Rosa Parks, I was born February 4, 1913. I lived in Tuskegee, Alabama, United States. When I was two years old, my parents divorced. In 1932 I got married to a man named, Raymond Parks. I am famous because I started the civil rights movement. When I refused to give up my seat on the bus, a man named James F. Blake called the police to come and arrest me. I received many awards because of my actions. Because of me a bus boycott started. I didn’t recognize the bus driver, James F. Blake, the same person who left me in the rain. People always say that I didn’t give up my seat because I was tired, but that isn’t true. I was not tired physically or more tired than I usually was at the end of a working day. I wasn’t old, although some people have an image of me as being old then. I was 42. No, the only tired I was, was tired of giving in. Later in life, I wrote an autobiography. Sadly, I died on October 24, 2005 in Detroit, Michigan, United States, at the age of 92.
I admire Rosa Parks for staying seated on the bus.
crisp |krisp| adjective
