sacred heart
holga pics of William and KT back in the spring
Photos by Billy
Like W on that aircraft carrier, I pretty much declared victory on my collection of middle school stories back in June. But then, she read my 4o thousand words and said, 20 thousand more, please.
And so I’ve been scrambling to add three new stories this summer, tapping out teenage sagas, driving my family and myself half nuts.
Why do I write stories, again?
Anyway, here is an except from “The Sacred Heart”
One morning, after sleeping over at Amber’s house, I woke up and her side of the tent was empty. Out into the living room, that old grandfather clock glowed green in the morning light. It was early, not even seven. I crawled out in my long t-shirt and stocking legs, my face still swollen with sleep.
I walked into the kitchen figuring that Amber would be there, with her red hair short around her face now, eating a bowl of corn flakes. But Amber was not. There, alone, hunched over the table, was her father, Jack. Close up he seemed even bigger, wilder, in his torn flannel shirt, unbuttoned to the navel, and his navy sweatpants. His hair was chestnut brown, oily, and unkempt. The sun was still dim in the window, but he already had a row of empty beer cans lined crookedly on the table in front him.
The floorboards creaked under my feet and Jack turned quickly toward me. He didn’t say my name, though I was at their house so often, he must have known it. He just looked at me, the strangest look, like I was some brand new creature that he’d never even imagined before. When he looked at me like that, I sneezed; but I held it in, so that the sneeze exploded quietly inside me.
“Juice,” I mumbled, looking down. I hurried to the refrigerator. There was no juice, just dark bottles of beer lining the side shelf. I picked one up, twisted the top off, and placed it on the table in front of Jack, next to his many empty ones. He looked up at me again, this time with tame, grateful eyes. But then he hung his head again; Amber had walked into the kitchen, too.
What do you think?
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Filed under family matters, photographs, writing | Comments (4)family reunion
Photos by Papa Johnson
William was the bell of the ball, so the speak, at our umpteenth annual family reunion:
A vast hotel conference room,
Karaoke,
Dancing,
and adoring cousins…
What more could a two-year-old ask for?
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Filed under writing | Comment (0)rock posture
Photos by Billy
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Filed under motherhood, photographs | Tags: guitar hero | Comments (2)myself in six words
Photo by Billy
Cloudscome at A Wrung Sponge challenged me to a six words memoir. Billy instantly came up with
Trying to write with a kid
True and to the point.
Then, last night when I couldn’t sleep, this tribute to doctors Seuss came to mind—
Play all day; write all night
How about you? Wistar, Wide Mouth Jar, Shana, Binky, SWMBO?
1. Write a six-word memoir.
2. Post it to your blog, maybe with a pic.
3. Link to the person who tagged you
4. Tag a few folks
5. Leave a comment for them with an invite to play.
How about you?
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Filed under writing | Comment (1)robot baby live forever
Video from March of William listening to Robot Baby, written for and about him, by Billy, Performed by The Band.
Video by Billy
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Filed under video | Comment (0)water everywhere
William at the beloved water wall at McGuffey Park
Photo by Billy
These days, all William wants to do is pour.
I keep handy a few cups, a bucket, an old yogurt container.
At the park, at the pool, in a fountain,
the water goes in, the water goes out.
What do you or yours love to do these long summer days?
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P.S. There is a new local resource for writers, WriterHouse, here in Charlottesville. A place to work, participate in workshops, or attend readings. Learn more about it here.
Filed under motherhood, photographs | Comments (2)the hunger
Photo by Billy
-”Please, Mama, eat something!” William says.
-”Okay, honey. Of course. How about some yogurt with blueberries?”
-”No blueberries, Mama!”
-”Okay, how about toast with butter?
-”No, only butter!”
-”Butter alone is not okay. How about toast and butter with eggs and cheese.
-”No eggs-and-cheese! I no like eggs-and-cheese!”
-”Okay, then. How about fresh fruit?
-”Okay, Mama: fruit. What fruit?”
-”Well, let’s see. We have blueberries…”
-”Okay blueberries…” a pause. “No! Blueberries and yogurt, mama! Okay?”
-”Okay.”
Reading books like Kingsolver’s, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and authors like Michael Pollan, has got me thinking about what’s for dinner. Whole Food, Fresh Food, Organic Food, Seasonal Food, Local Food, Home-cooked food? Fifty years ago these categories would all fall more or less under the umbrella of regular food. Now, in America at least, they are specialty items. I’m inspired to tip back the other way a bit; at least I think our family is going to hit the farmer’s market a little more this year…
What are you eating this summer?
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Filed under family matters | Comments (5)