Picture taken on June 6th.
Picture taken on June 19th.
Well, I will have to see if I have some more exciting thoughts to talk about tomorrow. If not, I may just sit outside and watch the corn grow.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Corn Update
No brilliant thoughts about corn or cornfields today. Just an update on the actual growth. Hehe... About 5 days ago, I was out walking and noticed that the corn was now just about knee high. And yes, it was still well before the 4th of July. I took a picture of the field with my phone. But I did not come right back here and post the picture. So now 5 days later, the corn has grown much taller than knee high. It is closer to the full length of my leg already.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Writing is Work
That title makes me laugh. I never actually thought I would say that. I have been writing all of my life. I still have old faded papers filled with awful stories I wrote when I was a child. There are times in my life that I haven't written much. Maybe I just jotted down a few notes about something I would write later. Or small bits of paper with a character idea. There were a few years when my kids were babies, that I didn't really find time to write. I was lucky if I found time to sleep. But even then the scraps of paper with ideas filled my table or folder.
In fact I have learned that I have to write. If I do not write, if I do not get those words out of my brain, I think it would explode. So 'writing' has always been easy for me. And by easy of course I mean a need. Something that I didn't really have to work to do. It might have been considered work to make sure the plot made sense or at times even to finish the story. But I have never had to force myself to sit down and write.
Until now.
Something changed last year. I have yet to decide if it is a good thing or a bad thing. For my whole life (up until last year) my words had been mine. They were for me. I didn't want nor expect anyone else to ever read them. And I would have never really considered sending them out to a publisher. But last year all of that changed. I could point to many little things that have pushed me in that direction. Some of them have really excited me. They have made me hopeful. But mostly that whole idea still terrifies me. I don't want to do it. I have to force myself to do it.
It is hard to send things out. It is hard to wait to hear back from them. It is hard to read the rejection letters. Then it is even harder to do it all over again. Some of this is actually spilling over into the desire for me to even sit down and write. The last few months I have started several new stories. When I first sit down to write I am excited and ready. But after a day or two, I find that I am forcing myself to sit there. I let any little distraction get me away from my story. Now some of these distractions I have to deal with. To be fair with myself, a great many things have been going on the last few months. Some of these things have involved a lot of thought and consideration. I know that this is actually taking time away from me thinking about my stories. And it cannot be helped.
Part of me looks at my stories and the lists of places I have sent them or plan on sending them and I wonder if it is worth it. I had wrote for me. It had just made me happy. But now it feels as if I am setting myself up for quite literally 'rejection.' Writing feels like work.
I am attempting to find a way around this. I want to write. But I also want to WANT to write. So I believe I will just sit down for a time every day and try to write. This might be anything for the "Blah blah blah... I can't think of anything to write today" to the words of my stories and novels that makes me happy. On top of that I will try to write more here in my blog. I have been doing that this past month. It has been easier to write here than to work on my novels. I believe that is because I know that I am not seeking anyone's approval for these words. But I am also not ready to give up on the other. I know that even though I really dislike it, that submitting is an important thing for me to do as well. I do think that I will set up a specific time that I do that. Hopefully this way I can avoid thinking about it until that time. Even now I know there are several stories that I should be seeking to send out. But today, I will not worry about that. Today I will just write.
Oh, and the good news is... I had decided to do this on Sunday. I had actually told myself I was going to start doing this. So this morning while I took my walk, I started out by trying to think about where I wanted to go in my story. The funny thing is that instead of that story, I thought of a different story. This one I had already finished. But I thought of a way to make it better. When I got back from my walk, I sat down at my computer and reworked that story. I will let it set for a day or two. Then read over the new version and see what I think. So I am happy that today I wrote, and tomorrow I will be ready to get back to that unfinished story.
In fact I have learned that I have to write. If I do not write, if I do not get those words out of my brain, I think it would explode. So 'writing' has always been easy for me. And by easy of course I mean a need. Something that I didn't really have to work to do. It might have been considered work to make sure the plot made sense or at times even to finish the story. But I have never had to force myself to sit down and write.
Until now.
Something changed last year. I have yet to decide if it is a good thing or a bad thing. For my whole life (up until last year) my words had been mine. They were for me. I didn't want nor expect anyone else to ever read them. And I would have never really considered sending them out to a publisher. But last year all of that changed. I could point to many little things that have pushed me in that direction. Some of them have really excited me. They have made me hopeful. But mostly that whole idea still terrifies me. I don't want to do it. I have to force myself to do it.
It is hard to send things out. It is hard to wait to hear back from them. It is hard to read the rejection letters. Then it is even harder to do it all over again. Some of this is actually spilling over into the desire for me to even sit down and write. The last few months I have started several new stories. When I first sit down to write I am excited and ready. But after a day or two, I find that I am forcing myself to sit there. I let any little distraction get me away from my story. Now some of these distractions I have to deal with. To be fair with myself, a great many things have been going on the last few months. Some of these things have involved a lot of thought and consideration. I know that this is actually taking time away from me thinking about my stories. And it cannot be helped.
Part of me looks at my stories and the lists of places I have sent them or plan on sending them and I wonder if it is worth it. I had wrote for me. It had just made me happy. But now it feels as if I am setting myself up for quite literally 'rejection.' Writing feels like work.
I am attempting to find a way around this. I want to write. But I also want to WANT to write. So I believe I will just sit down for a time every day and try to write. This might be anything for the "Blah blah blah... I can't think of anything to write today" to the words of my stories and novels that makes me happy. On top of that I will try to write more here in my blog. I have been doing that this past month. It has been easier to write here than to work on my novels. I believe that is because I know that I am not seeking anyone's approval for these words. But I am also not ready to give up on the other. I know that even though I really dislike it, that submitting is an important thing for me to do as well. I do think that I will set up a specific time that I do that. Hopefully this way I can avoid thinking about it until that time. Even now I know there are several stories that I should be seeking to send out. But today, I will not worry about that. Today I will just write.
Oh, and the good news is... I had decided to do this on Sunday. I had actually told myself I was going to start doing this. So this morning while I took my walk, I started out by trying to think about where I wanted to go in my story. The funny thing is that instead of that story, I thought of a different story. This one I had already finished. But I thought of a way to make it better. When I got back from my walk, I sat down at my computer and reworked that story. I will let it set for a day or two. Then read over the new version and see what I think. So I am happy that today I wrote, and tomorrow I will be ready to get back to that unfinished story.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Driver's licence
Ah, two posts in one day. Crazy, right? Well, after I wrote the last post I went for my morning walk. And I spent some time thinking about stuff. I realized that though I had told the facts about the whole driver's licence fail... that wasn't the whole story. There was really a lot more to this thing. Most of that is the hidden stuff. I can joke about how funny it was (and after the fact, I do think it was funny), and of course still annoying. But there is a lot more to this story.
When I first moved here, I had not wanted to get my driver's licence changed to this address. It was sort of like a piece of my past that I was holding on to. My kids and I moved here with my parents after my separation. So the change of address thing had to do with change of life. It was the loss of my marriage, my home and my plans for the future. So I knew I didn't want to do anything with that at the time.
I did think that this would not be a long term thing, and I also don't like having to do things like that. It is just a little out of my comfort zone. Even though I know it was not a big deal.
Then after the demolition of my house (the address on my licence) I couldn't do it. That was a different kind of pain. It was loss of my dreams. The brokenness of my life. By this time I think it would have been okay for me to go and get my licence. But the house thing just brought all of those feelings back to the surface. So I continued to avoid it.
There was a bit of time after the house where I really dealt with a lot of that. That was when I first went to get my address changed. But as I failed to do this, I put that idea away. Maybe it wasn't time yet.
So all of this was going on in the background of my trying to get my driver's licence. It got to the point that this Monday when I didn't get my licence and knew I was going to go into St. Paul on Wednesday to get it, well, I thought of something. I thought that it was interesting, that here I am going to St. Paul to get my driver's licence. St. Paul is the place that I got my very first driver's licence when I was 16. I am living in my parents' house again, and going to the same courthouse to get my licence. It was like a circle. Much of my life has been feeling like a circle the past few months. It seems to be getting to a point where this BIG something is going to happen. Like so much of the past was practice for something else. It is a strange feeling at times.
Then I didn't get my licence there. But I went to GI. But this two was a circle. This was actually more close to the real circle that I am feeling. The last time I got my licence renewed in GI was just before I moved to Lincoln. It is funny. But I should have realized this months ago, and just gone into GI and gotten my licence. hehe.. I think I am ready for the next part of my life.
When I first moved here, I had not wanted to get my driver's licence changed to this address. It was sort of like a piece of my past that I was holding on to. My kids and I moved here with my parents after my separation. So the change of address thing had to do with change of life. It was the loss of my marriage, my home and my plans for the future. So I knew I didn't want to do anything with that at the time.
I did think that this would not be a long term thing, and I also don't like having to do things like that. It is just a little out of my comfort zone. Even though I know it was not a big deal.
Then after the demolition of my house (the address on my licence) I couldn't do it. That was a different kind of pain. It was loss of my dreams. The brokenness of my life. By this time I think it would have been okay for me to go and get my licence. But the house thing just brought all of those feelings back to the surface. So I continued to avoid it.
There was a bit of time after the house where I really dealt with a lot of that. That was when I first went to get my address changed. But as I failed to do this, I put that idea away. Maybe it wasn't time yet.
So all of this was going on in the background of my trying to get my driver's licence. It got to the point that this Monday when I didn't get my licence and knew I was going to go into St. Paul on Wednesday to get it, well, I thought of something. I thought that it was interesting, that here I am going to St. Paul to get my driver's licence. St. Paul is the place that I got my very first driver's licence when I was 16. I am living in my parents' house again, and going to the same courthouse to get my licence. It was like a circle. Much of my life has been feeling like a circle the past few months. It seems to be getting to a point where this BIG something is going to happen. Like so much of the past was practice for something else. It is a strange feeling at times.
Then I didn't get my licence there. But I went to GI. But this two was a circle. This was actually more close to the real circle that I am feeling. The last time I got my licence renewed in GI was just before I moved to Lincoln. It is funny. But I should have realized this months ago, and just gone into GI and gotten my licence. hehe.. I think I am ready for the next part of my life.
Rejection Or Epic Fail
As many of my posts here have to do with writing, I will tell you up front, that this one doesn't. Even though by the title it might seem that way.
This actually has to do with a tiny piece of plastic that a great many of us carry around with us every day. When I moved back here almost 4 years ago, I didn't worry about getting a new driver's licence. Yes, mine had the wrong address on it. But it didn't matter. Not really. In the emotional state that I was in, I didn't even want to think about that. And on top of that, I didn't view this move as a permanent place of residence. I didn't know how long I was going to be here. So why go and change the address when in 6 months or a year I would be moving again.
Well about a year and a half ago, I decided that maybe it was time. They house, the address, listed on my licence didn't even exist anymore. I had been here for a long time and didn't know when I would be moving. So I should just go and do it.
I made the journey over to the courthouse. Now mind you, it is in a town that I never go to unless it is to the courthouse. I walk in with my one piece of mail as proof of address and figured it was a done deal. What could be hard about this. I had already gotten licence plates for my car. I was just changing the address on my driver's licence after all.
Well, I was wrong. I needed two pieces of mail to change my address. Fail #1. So I had to give up and go home. Of course I was in no hurry to go back. It didn't really matter after all.
Some time later I thought I have nothing better to do today, let's go and get my driver's licence. I drive back to the courthouse. This time I had two pieces of mail. And just a note here about the mail. It is a little hard for me to come by mail. I don't really get any mail. I don't have any bills. My bank statement I view online. So there isn't much actual mail with my name on it. Okay, here I am at the courthouse. Fail #2. My mail does not say "Lisa Montoya." One of them says, "Mrs. Montoya" and the other says "Montoya Family." So they send me home once again without my licence. The lady there tried to be helpful. She told me all of the things I could bring, bills, pay stubs.. None of which I have available to me. Then she offered this bit of advice, "Go ahead and send yourself something in the mail." As I drove home I considered this... Hmmm, really? I could send myself something to any person's address and just wait for the mailman to deliver it. Then grab it out of their box. HAHA.. I could live anywhere.
By now I am starting to think this is not really worth the effort. I mean having the correct address on a card that I only need if I get stopped by a police officer...
Here, I decided to give it a little time before I tried again. I knew eventually I would have to get it done. Okay, I have two pieces of mail with Lisa Montoya on them. I drive back to the courthouse only to be turned away once again. Fail #3. This time she told me that the police office wasn't there. Here, I need to be a little less of an introvert. I thought she mean he needed to be there for me to take the test. Which I didn't need to take. I was just changing the address on my licence. But I was starting to have a mental block about this whole task. I drove home thinking about it. And realized I should have asked her why when I was there. But of course I didn't.
Alrighty now, here comes June. I by now do need to not only change my address but renew it. My birthday is coming fast. And what do you know, in the mail, yes I said MAIL, comes my card reminding me to renew my licence. I am sorry to say I was a tad angry at the arrival of this card. Here I had been trying to inform these people of my "new address" for months. But I had not been able to do this. And yet SOMEHOW they did know my address. They sent it to me here. In anger I wondered if that card would be proof of address as they were the ones who sent it to me. hehe..
Well, as you might guess I was still not in a huge hurry to try this thing again. And then I thought, well, maybe I don't have to. They sent it to me here. Maybe I will try to just renew it on-line. That was a clearly stated option on the card I had received. And it would save me from having to drive over there a 4th time. And I wouldn't actually have to talk to a person. Sounded like a perfect plan to me. I got on-line and made this attempt. Fail #4. It seems that I could not do this on-line because I was also needing to change my address. Hmmm... but why or how had they sent me the card if I couldn't do it? One will never know.
So by now, it is the week before my birthday. And I am thinking what else can happen? I have the card they sent me. I have 6 pieces of mail with my name on them. Yes, I know I only needed 2. But 6 had to be better. So Monday I get into the car and drive to the courthouse. Fail #5. It seems that the police office has to be there for them to take my picture. I could drive to Fullerton today. Or St. Paul on Wednesday or Come back here on Friday. I chose not to go to Fullerton. I went home. hehe.. On the drive home, I wondered why we paid the people working in that office.. clearly they didn't actually have much to do.
So Wednesday I drove in to St. Paul. (Now the important note is that my birthday is on Friday.) I decided to take the kids to the pool in St. Paul, make it a bit more of a worthless drive just to get my licence. I dropped them off at the pool and told them I would be back soon (hopefully with my licence) I walked into the courthouse. Yes, the man was there. :( There were like 7 people in front of me. At least 3 of them were kids taking the test. He was going to have to take all of them out driving. THIS WAS GOING TO TAKE AT LEAST AN HOUR! I stood there for a moment and thought, "Who Cares!" I left and went to join the kids at the pool. Fail #6 I figured I would just drive in to GI in the morning and get my licence there. A huge metropolis like GI has more than one person working there and I would be able to get this finish. hehe... if not, I could always go back to the courthouse in Central City on Friday.
So Thursday morning I got up. I was in no hurry. I exercised. I showered. I drove to GI. SEVEN times. WOW! I had made seven attempts to get my driver's licence. And now less then 24 hours before my birthday I was still not in possession of a valid current licence. Surely it would happen today. hehe..
I didn't know which building to go to.. there were four. I asked someone. I was not leaving this place without my licence. I walked in. Even though there was no one in front of my the lady made me take a number. I almost laughed at this. I filled out the form. Pulled out my 6 pieces of mail. She barely looked at them. By this I mean she glanced at one of them. Took my picture and sent me to the treasurer. (now of course that isn't all that happened. While I was there I asked about what I needed to have and do as my son will be turning 15 in a couple of months and I will be back to get his learner's permit. Maybe that will only take one trip.) I walked upstairs. ALMOST there. My paper in hand. I give it to her along with my money. Then she gives me a copy..a temporary licence. They will mail me the real one in 20 days or so. Once again I nearly laughed. I had planned on leaving that place with a real new licence. But instead had a little piece of paper. But finally it was finished. I had my licence.
Well, as I was writing this, I decided that maybe this is a little bit like writing. Maybe I should take this as a sign of what I should be doing with my stories. None of which I have yet sent out to 7 different places in hopes of getting one published. Okay. So this is about writing. I need to go through my list. I have been getting a little tired of the rejection letters. So I have not been in a hurry to send things out like I had been six or eight months ago. Time to work.
This actually has to do with a tiny piece of plastic that a great many of us carry around with us every day. When I moved back here almost 4 years ago, I didn't worry about getting a new driver's licence. Yes, mine had the wrong address on it. But it didn't matter. Not really. In the emotional state that I was in, I didn't even want to think about that. And on top of that, I didn't view this move as a permanent place of residence. I didn't know how long I was going to be here. So why go and change the address when in 6 months or a year I would be moving again.
Well about a year and a half ago, I decided that maybe it was time. They house, the address, listed on my licence didn't even exist anymore. I had been here for a long time and didn't know when I would be moving. So I should just go and do it.
I made the journey over to the courthouse. Now mind you, it is in a town that I never go to unless it is to the courthouse. I walk in with my one piece of mail as proof of address and figured it was a done deal. What could be hard about this. I had already gotten licence plates for my car. I was just changing the address on my driver's licence after all.
Well, I was wrong. I needed two pieces of mail to change my address. Fail #1. So I had to give up and go home. Of course I was in no hurry to go back. It didn't really matter after all.
Some time later I thought I have nothing better to do today, let's go and get my driver's licence. I drive back to the courthouse. This time I had two pieces of mail. And just a note here about the mail. It is a little hard for me to come by mail. I don't really get any mail. I don't have any bills. My bank statement I view online. So there isn't much actual mail with my name on it. Okay, here I am at the courthouse. Fail #2. My mail does not say "Lisa Montoya." One of them says, "Mrs. Montoya" and the other says "Montoya Family." So they send me home once again without my licence. The lady there tried to be helpful. She told me all of the things I could bring, bills, pay stubs.. None of which I have available to me. Then she offered this bit of advice, "Go ahead and send yourself something in the mail." As I drove home I considered this... Hmmm, really? I could send myself something to any person's address and just wait for the mailman to deliver it. Then grab it out of their box. HAHA.. I could live anywhere.
By now I am starting to think this is not really worth the effort. I mean having the correct address on a card that I only need if I get stopped by a police officer...
Here, I decided to give it a little time before I tried again. I knew eventually I would have to get it done. Okay, I have two pieces of mail with Lisa Montoya on them. I drive back to the courthouse only to be turned away once again. Fail #3. This time she told me that the police office wasn't there. Here, I need to be a little less of an introvert. I thought she mean he needed to be there for me to take the test. Which I didn't need to take. I was just changing the address on my licence. But I was starting to have a mental block about this whole task. I drove home thinking about it. And realized I should have asked her why when I was there. But of course I didn't.
Alrighty now, here comes June. I by now do need to not only change my address but renew it. My birthday is coming fast. And what do you know, in the mail, yes I said MAIL, comes my card reminding me to renew my licence. I am sorry to say I was a tad angry at the arrival of this card. Here I had been trying to inform these people of my "new address" for months. But I had not been able to do this. And yet SOMEHOW they did know my address. They sent it to me here. In anger I wondered if that card would be proof of address as they were the ones who sent it to me. hehe..
Well, as you might guess I was still not in a huge hurry to try this thing again. And then I thought, well, maybe I don't have to. They sent it to me here. Maybe I will try to just renew it on-line. That was a clearly stated option on the card I had received. And it would save me from having to drive over there a 4th time. And I wouldn't actually have to talk to a person. Sounded like a perfect plan to me. I got on-line and made this attempt. Fail #4. It seems that I could not do this on-line because I was also needing to change my address. Hmmm... but why or how had they sent me the card if I couldn't do it? One will never know.
So by now, it is the week before my birthday. And I am thinking what else can happen? I have the card they sent me. I have 6 pieces of mail with my name on them. Yes, I know I only needed 2. But 6 had to be better. So Monday I get into the car and drive to the courthouse. Fail #5. It seems that the police office has to be there for them to take my picture. I could drive to Fullerton today. Or St. Paul on Wednesday or Come back here on Friday. I chose not to go to Fullerton. I went home. hehe.. On the drive home, I wondered why we paid the people working in that office.. clearly they didn't actually have much to do.
So Wednesday I drove in to St. Paul. (Now the important note is that my birthday is on Friday.) I decided to take the kids to the pool in St. Paul, make it a bit more of a worthless drive just to get my licence. I dropped them off at the pool and told them I would be back soon (hopefully with my licence) I walked into the courthouse. Yes, the man was there. :( There were like 7 people in front of me. At least 3 of them were kids taking the test. He was going to have to take all of them out driving. THIS WAS GOING TO TAKE AT LEAST AN HOUR! I stood there for a moment and thought, "Who Cares!" I left and went to join the kids at the pool. Fail #6 I figured I would just drive in to GI in the morning and get my licence there. A huge metropolis like GI has more than one person working there and I would be able to get this finish. hehe... if not, I could always go back to the courthouse in Central City on Friday.
So Thursday morning I got up. I was in no hurry. I exercised. I showered. I drove to GI. SEVEN times. WOW! I had made seven attempts to get my driver's licence. And now less then 24 hours before my birthday I was still not in possession of a valid current licence. Surely it would happen today. hehe..
I didn't know which building to go to.. there were four. I asked someone. I was not leaving this place without my licence. I walked in. Even though there was no one in front of my the lady made me take a number. I almost laughed at this. I filled out the form. Pulled out my 6 pieces of mail. She barely looked at them. By this I mean she glanced at one of them. Took my picture and sent me to the treasurer. (now of course that isn't all that happened. While I was there I asked about what I needed to have and do as my son will be turning 15 in a couple of months and I will be back to get his learner's permit. Maybe that will only take one trip.) I walked upstairs. ALMOST there. My paper in hand. I give it to her along with my money. Then she gives me a copy..a temporary licence. They will mail me the real one in 20 days or so. Once again I nearly laughed. I had planned on leaving that place with a real new licence. But instead had a little piece of paper. But finally it was finished. I had my licence.
Well, as I was writing this, I decided that maybe this is a little bit like writing. Maybe I should take this as a sign of what I should be doing with my stories. None of which I have yet sent out to 7 different places in hopes of getting one published. Okay. So this is about writing. I need to go through my list. I have been getting a little tired of the rejection letters. So I have not been in a hurry to send things out like I had been six or eight months ago. Time to work.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Corn
Today as I was walking I was noticing the corn. I have lived nearly my whole life in the middle of a corn field. I have watched the plants sprout and grow. I have seen the harvest come so many times. Every spring when the tiny plants first poke out of the ground there is an excitement of the new growth. And as I was walking passed the corn this morning, I thought, "Knee high by the 4th of July." A phrase I have heard again and again. No one needs to tell me these words. My own mind brings thing to the open. The corn is not yet there. Though it is closer to June 4th than July right now. I do not doubt that it will make it there before the end of the month.
Then the spring will change to the heat of summer. The corn will be taller than I am. I remember infinite number of rides up and down the driveway on my bike. The sunlight blinking like a strobe light as it shone between the stalks. 
As I continued on my walk. I thought some more of the corn, growing forever in this place. One more season. And another. Always does it stay the same. There are changes yes, one year is dry the next the floods may come, or hail and storm. Too hot, too cool. And yet it grows.
How much corn I wonder? How many lakes would all of that corn fill?
There was one other thing that came to mind as I took my walk this morning. This was a quote from Star Wars.
Luke: "I think those new droids
are gonna work out fine. In fact, I, uh, also thinking about our
agreement, about me staying on another season. And if these new
droids do work out, I wanna transmit my application to the academy
this year." Uncle Owen: "You mean, the next semester before
the harvest?" Luke: "Sure, there's more than enough
droids." Uncle Owen: "Harvest is when I need you the most.
Only one season more. This year we'll make enough on the harvest that
I'll be able to hire some more hands and then, you can go to the
academy next year. You must understand, I need you here, Luke."
Luke: "But it's a whole 'nother year." Uncle Owen: "Look,
it's only one more season." Luke: "Yeah, that's what you
said when Biggs and Tank left." Aunt Beru: "Where are you
going?" Luke: "Looks like I'm going nowhere. I have to go
finish cleaning those droids."
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Ladder to the Clouds
As I sit and gaze up in the sky
I see the swirling whiteness high above.
The clouds float by as my
dreams and
hopes and
wishes
that I long to touch and hold.
But I know that I cannot fly.
So I watch from down below.
I begin to gather sticks and twigs.
I find some long strong poles.
And with some twine I weave.
I make myself a ladder.
A ladder meant to touch the sky.
I start to climb so slow.
A ladder to the sky. I fear not heights. I see my dreams as truth.
Truth I can nearly touch. I reach the top of the ladder. Clouds of angel softness.
Tastes so wondrous upon my lips.
Once here within the clouds and dreams I wonder why it took so long for me to come.
I place my foot upon the topmost rung. I step up onto the cloud. Tis here I want to stay.
No longer tied to the ground below.
But to late a realize. I start to fall. The cloud cannot hold. It cannot sustain me.
I fall and fall forever long. Crashing back onto the ground. Tears slip from my eyes.
Though not caused by pain of body. My heart aches for dreams and hope.
The taste of pleasure of the clouds.
I take some time to heal my wounds.
The ladder yet remains.
I try again to touch the clouds.
The desires much to strong to ignore.
Over and over again
I climb and fall.
But what can I but do?
To lay upon the earth and know
That everything I want
Is just a wish upon the clouds.
One more time I slowly climb.
To the topmost rung.
I lick my lips
I taste the clouds.
My dreams so close at hand.
I step down a rung.
Then another.
I cut the twine.
I drop the rung to the ground.
The ladder is not safe for me. I shall never learn to fly. It only tempts me night and day.
For things I may never have. I remove another rung and drop it to the earth.
Would be much better for me to use them in another way.
When half the ladder lay upon the ground, I descend myself.
I take a hammer and some nails. I gather all the boards and sticks.
I will put them together in another way.
I shall build a box. A box to keep me safe. I box to shelter in.
Every nail I hammer in closes the seal upon my heart.
I hardly dare to look up at the sky.
Nail
after
Nail
after
Nail.
The box is built.
The ladder is no more.
The sky, the clouds.
Are once again only dreams.
Dreams seen from inside of my box.
I see the swirling whiteness high above. The clouds float by as my
dreams and
hopes and
wishes
that I long to touch and hold.
But I know that I cannot fly.
So I watch from down below.
I begin to gather sticks and twigs.
I find some long strong poles.
And with some twine I weave.
I make myself a ladder.
A ladder meant to touch the sky.
I start to climb so slow.
A ladder to the sky. I fear not heights. I see my dreams as truth.
Truth I can nearly touch. I reach the top of the ladder. Clouds of angel softness.
Tastes so wondrous upon my lips.
Once here within the clouds and dreams I wonder why it took so long for me to come.
I place my foot upon the topmost rung. I step up onto the cloud. Tis here I want to stay.
No longer tied to the ground below.
But to late a realize. I start to fall. The cloud cannot hold. It cannot sustain me.
I fall and fall forever long. Crashing back onto the ground. Tears slip from my eyes.
Though not caused by pain of body. My heart aches for dreams and hope.
The taste of pleasure of the clouds.
I take some time to heal my wounds.The ladder yet remains.
I try again to touch the clouds.
The desires much to strong to ignore.
Over and over again
I climb and fall.
But what can I but do?
To lay upon the earth and know
That everything I want
Is just a wish upon the clouds.
One more time I slowly climb.
To the topmost rung.
I lick my lips
I taste the clouds.
My dreams so close at hand.
I step down a rung.
Then another.
I cut the twine.
I drop the rung to the ground.
The ladder is not safe for me. I shall never learn to fly. It only tempts me night and day.
For things I may never have. I remove another rung and drop it to the earth.
Would be much better for me to use them in another way.
When half the ladder lay upon the ground, I descend myself.
I take a hammer and some nails. I gather all the boards and sticks.
I will put them together in another way.
I shall build a box. A box to keep me safe. I box to shelter in.
Every nail I hammer in closes the seal upon my heart.
I hardly dare to look up at the sky.
Nailafter
Nail
after
Nail.
The box is built.
The ladder is no more.
The sky, the clouds.
Are once again only dreams.
Dreams seen from inside of my box.
Ditches
Ditch
noun
1. a long, narrow excavation made in the
ground by digging, as for draining or irrigating land; trench.
2. any open passage or trench, as a
natural channel or waterway.
verb
3. to dig a ditch or ditches in or around.
4. to derail (a train) or drive or force
(an automobile, bus, etc.) into a ditch.
5. to crash-land on water and abandon (an
airplane).
6. Slang.
a. to get rid of: I ditched that old hat
of yours.
b. to escape from: He ditched the cops by
driving down an alley.
c. to absent oneself from (school or a
class) without permission or an acceptable reason.
Today I am starting with the definition of the word. Mostly because when I envision this word I might be seeing something that another person might not see. When I was first given this assignment, to write about ditches, I thought of the deep wide trenches along the Worms Rd. These are huge flat ditches that one could even drive a car in. They are often more like rivers in the spring. The last couple of weeks that is what they have been, filled with water.
Then of course by thinking of the ditches along the Worms Rd it made me think of the play that we did in school many years ago. It was for the anniversary of our school. The teachers made it up from stories and memories of those who had gone to school there. The stage was cut in two, the left side we acted scenes from the past. On the right side was seen scenes from the present. The old memory was played out, and a make believe scene in the future had been written to match. One of the parts was about the ditches along the Worms Rd. In the past on their way to school, (I forget the names of who it was now) the horses got spooked or something. And they turned and ran into the ditch full of water. All of the little girls came to school with dripping wet clothes. Then on the present side, (the make believe story) the girls had been riding their bikes to school and for some reason fell into the ditch. Also coming to school dripping wet.
Now this was the first thing that came into my mind when I thought of ditches. But the idea of ditches also plays really well with what I wrote about yesterday. Signs and too much noise. They ditch was put there along the road to quickly take away all of the excess water. It was there to protect the road and the fields from flooding. All of that excess water is similar to 'too much noise.'
If I were to put a ditch around myself it would be there to carry away all of the bad stuff, to keep me safe from the flood. Ditches can be very good. Maybe that should be my assignment for today, rather than writing about ditches, I should work on digging this ditch.
The second thought that came into my mind yesterday was the irrigation ditch. It has been many years since we had those here on the farm. But when we first moved out here that is how my dad and uncle watered the crops. They would walk the field and move those small tubes from row to row.
Now on a hot summer day this little stream of clear cold water was like a magnet to children. A perfect place to play. Though we received a great many threats of punishment if we were ever to go near there, let along get into the water. Some of it was I am sure my mother's fear that alone we might drown. But there was also the chance that we would wreck the ditch and instead of the water getting to the field and the crops it would flow and spill out to places that we did not want the water to go.
The third part of 'ditch' I had not considered until this morning when I read the definition. "To ditch" someone or something. That is even more of a sad thought. Possibly not one that I can even write about here at this time.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Too Much Noise or How Many Street Signs Do We Need?
I have a picture book called "Too Much Noise" by Ann McGovern. I have had it for years. I must have bought it way back in college as I was preparing to be a teacher. I read it to so many of my preschool classes. It has always been one of my favorites. And as such, the children would ask to hear it over and over. They can always tell the books we love the most. These are the ones that we read to them with excitement and energy.
Well, I was thinking about this book this morning. In the story there is this man who hears all of these horrible noises in his house, his tea kettle whistles, his bed creaks, the floor squeaks, and the leaves outside - oh, such noises. So he decides to do something about this. He goes to the wise man for advice. The wise man tells him to get a cow. He is unsure how this will help but he goes out and gets a cow. The cow then just adds to the noises in this man's house. It Moo's all day long. So he goes back to the wise man. Get a donkey says the wise man. This goes on and on, until the man's house is full of animals. By now there are so many animals making noise in his house that he is very very angry. He returns to the wise man for the last time. He is just yelling at him about all of the noise in the house. Now the wise man remains completely calm. He quietly tells him to "Do as I say. Let the cow go..." And on down the entire list of animals. So the man does this. Then he is sitting in his house. He hears the bed creak, the floor squeak, the tea kettle whistle, and the leaves on the roof. "Oh. Ah. Such quiet noises."
So in the end the very things that he felt were unbearable were relaxing and calm.
I don't know if these things will be related to anyone else but to me they were this morning.
I had been thinking about signs; road sign, street signs, signs we follow in our life. Where I live street signs are pretty new. Most of my life we didn't have them. We either just had to know where we were going or use some landmarks.
How to get to my house:
Turn west on the mile south of Worms. It is the last mailbox (mailbox...because you can't see the house from the road) on the south side of the road.
Or.
Turn west on the mile north of the big red barn. It is the last mailbox on the south side of the road.
Some roads had names, but they were only known by word of mouth. And these roads were usually the only roads that were paved. Once you got off of the paved roads you had to just know the way. The funny thing is that I still tend to drive this way. If someone would give me an address to a place in one of the towns nearby I will likely not know where it is. I didn't bother learning the names of the streets. I got to places by memory. "Grandma's block" "Or just past the hospital" I suppose this could be because I grew up in the country with no street signs. But it has taken years for me to get used to and learn the street names.
Now though, I am quite good at looking up on Google maps anything or anyplace that I need to go. I depend on the signs to show me the way. I printout or memorize the path before I leave my house. I focus now on those words on the green signs, ignoring the big red barn or giant windbreak that used to guide my path. I no longer need to count the intersections or mile roads to know that I am in the right place. In some ways I think it might have made me lazy.
So this morning I was thinking about a different kind of sign. But I believe some of these thoughts carry through here for me as well. I expect the path to be clear. I expect there to be signs for me to follow. But there are billboards, neon flashing signs, business signs, construction signs, signs everywhere. Just like in the story, there is just too much noise. Maybe it is time for me to stop looking for the signs all around me. Maybe I just need to find the big red barn. Slow down and enjoy the journey.
And really did I need to get to that place anyhow? I just had an amazing thought. When I was a little girl, my Grandpa and I drove around quite a few times looking for Cook-coo-wiches. He would put me in the car, and we would drive out on one of those un-named gravel roads. We would turn several places and go up and down a few miles. We never actually 'found' cook-coo-wiches. But those were some of my very favorite trips and it had nothing to do with the ice cream cone that my Grandpa bought me when we finally gave up and decided to go home.
Well, I was thinking about this book this morning. In the story there is this man who hears all of these horrible noises in his house, his tea kettle whistles, his bed creaks, the floor squeaks, and the leaves outside - oh, such noises. So he decides to do something about this. He goes to the wise man for advice. The wise man tells him to get a cow. He is unsure how this will help but he goes out and gets a cow. The cow then just adds to the noises in this man's house. It Moo's all day long. So he goes back to the wise man. Get a donkey says the wise man. This goes on and on, until the man's house is full of animals. By now there are so many animals making noise in his house that he is very very angry. He returns to the wise man for the last time. He is just yelling at him about all of the noise in the house. Now the wise man remains completely calm. He quietly tells him to "Do as I say. Let the cow go..." And on down the entire list of animals. So the man does this. Then he is sitting in his house. He hears the bed creak, the floor squeak, the tea kettle whistle, and the leaves on the roof. "Oh. Ah. Such quiet noises."
So in the end the very things that he felt were unbearable were relaxing and calm.
I don't know if these things will be related to anyone else but to me they were this morning.
I had been thinking about signs; road sign, street signs, signs we follow in our life. Where I live street signs are pretty new. Most of my life we didn't have them. We either just had to know where we were going or use some landmarks.
How to get to my house:
Turn west on the mile south of Worms. It is the last mailbox (mailbox...because you can't see the house from the road) on the south side of the road.
Or.
Turn west on the mile north of the big red barn. It is the last mailbox on the south side of the road.
Some roads had names, but they were only known by word of mouth. And these roads were usually the only roads that were paved. Once you got off of the paved roads you had to just know the way. The funny thing is that I still tend to drive this way. If someone would give me an address to a place in one of the towns nearby I will likely not know where it is. I didn't bother learning the names of the streets. I got to places by memory. "Grandma's block" "Or just past the hospital" I suppose this could be because I grew up in the country with no street signs. But it has taken years for me to get used to and learn the street names.
Now though, I am quite good at looking up on Google maps anything or anyplace that I need to go. I depend on the signs to show me the way. I printout or memorize the path before I leave my house. I focus now on those words on the green signs, ignoring the big red barn or giant windbreak that used to guide my path. I no longer need to count the intersections or mile roads to know that I am in the right place. In some ways I think it might have made me lazy.
So this morning I was thinking about a different kind of sign. But I believe some of these thoughts carry through here for me as well. I expect the path to be clear. I expect there to be signs for me to follow. But there are billboards, neon flashing signs, business signs, construction signs, signs everywhere. Just like in the story, there is just too much noise. Maybe it is time for me to stop looking for the signs all around me. Maybe I just need to find the big red barn. Slow down and enjoy the journey.
And really did I need to get to that place anyhow? I just had an amazing thought. When I was a little girl, my Grandpa and I drove around quite a few times looking for Cook-coo-wiches. He would put me in the car, and we would drive out on one of those un-named gravel roads. We would turn several places and go up and down a few miles. We never actually 'found' cook-coo-wiches. But those were some of my very favorite trips and it had nothing to do with the ice cream cone that my Grandpa bought me when we finally gave up and decided to go home.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Brick Walls
Well, need to start this out by telling myself, this is not normally who I am. In fact likely tomorrow will seem or feel completely differently. But today, I feel very negative or down. Brick Walls.
I tend to look for NEON signs, things to guide me or show me the way that I am supposed to go. Or that tell me I am on the right path. They are normally something that makes me happy. I feel like I am doing or going where I am supposed to go. But the last few days it seems that these guiding signs have been telling me "Road Closed", "Turn Back Now", or simply "Wrong Turn."
Right now, I want to be the turtle I know that I am. I want to pull back into the safety of my shell and just wait it out. Part of me says this is not what you should be doing, that is why all of this is happening. Stop, choose a different path and just give up. But another part of me says, that I just need to be strong and everything will work out. That if there is something you want you have to work for it.
But for today at least I think I will choose my shell.
I tend to look for NEON signs, things to guide me or show me the way that I am supposed to go. Or that tell me I am on the right path. They are normally something that makes me happy. I feel like I am doing or going where I am supposed to go. But the last few days it seems that these guiding signs have been telling me "Road Closed", "Turn Back Now", or simply "Wrong Turn."
Right now, I want to be the turtle I know that I am. I want to pull back into the safety of my shell and just wait it out. Part of me says this is not what you should be doing, that is why all of this is happening. Stop, choose a different path and just give up. But another part of me says, that I just need to be strong and everything will work out. That if there is something you want you have to work for it.
But for today at least I think I will choose my shell.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Short thought for the day
To write about pain one must have felt pain so we create for ourselves those situations in which we will feel pain. Sort of twisted and sick in a way, but today I wonder if it is true.
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