Summertime

 ♫Summertime♫

The lazy, hazy days of Summer.....When I think of summer now I think of the wild Ox-eye Daisies* and new-born fawns that are in my gardens. . . .

A Return to Childhood

♫Simple Gifts♫

We've just returned from two days of visiting the gardens of Henry du Pont at Winterthur in Delaware and Pierre du Pont at Longwood Gardens in Pennslyvania.  But before I can tell you all about these visits I must settle something with myself. . . .

This year I've been reading one entry a week from the 52 essays in Alan Cohen's little book entitled Wisdom of the Heart.  This week's, interestingly, is entitled "Resignation from Adulthood."  Lest I give my readers the wrong impression I decided to re-title my post in a more positive tone.....but I love how he starts his essay.  He said, "I've decided that I'd like to accept the responsibilities of an eight-year-old again.  I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four-star restaurant."  The reason this struck me is that I'd just written in my journal this morning about the B&B we'd stayed in the one night we were away.  As you can see it was a very nice place. . . .

Living in the Clouds

♫Time Forgotten♫

I couldn't resist a walk in the woods this morning to capture the ethereal fog that was swirling through the trees on our little mountain, which means it is more likely clouds than fog.  I will take you on a walk in the beginnings of my little Enchanted Woods.  I have great plans for it....

Ice and Memories

♫Through the Storm♫

Wednesday morning this week we woke up before the sun as usual.  As we drank our morning coffee, I back in bed, Ken in the livingroom, we could hear creaking and popping and snapping, and OH, NO, boom! Gabriel had been let out earlier to do his business, but when he rang the bell again to be let out after sunrise this is what greeted him.....

Childhood Memories

♫The Way We Were♫

My First Birthday

How well do you remember your childhood?  I remember quite a bit about mine.  It helps that I lived in 16 different houses in 18 years (17 if you count the two weeks in an apartment after the fire) because my memories are attached to a particular house which then tells me what year it was and makes recall easier.  It also helps that my Dad made home movies starting when I was not yet two, and in later years I kept a diary and photo album of my own.  

For the past month I've been working on a memoir about my childhood.  I really don't like that word much--memoir.  It's sounds rather pretentious for someone like me who is not famous, but it's the only word I could find in the dictionary that fit.  I brought down my boxes of memorabilia from the attic and have been going through all the notebooks, bits of paper, ticket stubs, photos, yearbooks, etc.  The Internet has allowed me to find street views of where I used to live and former friends on Facebook.  I've been corresponding on Facebook with the first guy I had a crush on when I was 15.... 

Clark is at the top

....and all of a sudden I'm 15 again as we correspond about those times.   

I met my husband-to-be later that year and have every thought and feeling recorded of falling in love with him....

Ken

All of this has actually unsettled me.  Going back to my earliest memories starting when I was three--almost 60 years ago--and then reliving the years in the detailed diaries I kept not only brings up long-forgotten feelings, it makes you realize just how fast time does fly.  One moment I'm absorbed in my memories of being three....

Me and my friend, Lillian

and the next I qualify for social security!  

As I uncover one memory several more come flooding in and then I wish I'd done this project in my 20's when I still had both my parents to ask all the questions that are forming in my heart.  Things I didn't know I wanted or needed to know about their lives....

My parents

....things about myself I'm sure I no longer remember--of who I was....then.

They say your personality is formed in your first three years....and then things happen to you that change who you really are.  For me, the moves did a great deal in allowing me to continue to be shy and unsure of myself.  And seeing my grandfather....

Me and Papaw

....in his casket when I was 10 made me afraid of dead people and the fire when I was 11 made me care more about my belongings than was good.  And my perfectionism started when....well, all that's in my story.  Thankfully, I have overcome most of those shortcomings over the years.  But what else might there be I haven't seen yet that I've always considered "just me" and therefore blithely accepted?  Or what talent has been covered up and lain dormant?

Looking back has made me care for that little girl....

Age 2

....the one who was shy but yet could look the camera in the eye.  As I gather all my research materials and sit down to write my memoir, for that is what it is (memoir: an autobiography or a written account of one's memory of certain events or people), I'm listening closely to what that little girl wants to tell me about who she really is so that together we can become who she was meant to be--finally.

Dance of Life

♫Last Waltz♫

"The Boyhood of Raleigh" by Sir John Everett Millais, oil on canvas, 1870

In the above painting a seafarer is telling the young Sir Walter Raleigh and his brother the story of what happened at sea.  Before books, radio, and movies/TV we had to rely on hand-me-down stories like depicted above for our stories.  Stories are important.

It is why I keep a journal and volumes of photo albums.  They tell the story of my life.  Like this photo...

...which tells the story of my first dog, Tuffy, who I was too young to remember.  It looks as though I really loved him--I'm petting him at both ends!

I'm in the process of collecting my childhood memorabilia so I can write my childhood story.  I want to leave it for my children and my children's children so they will know how they came to be in one small part.  So far it is just a collection of events and people, but I want it to tell a story--my story.  So I'm letting it all stew for awhile to see what rises to the surface.  

The elements of a story are characters, setting, plot, conflict, and resolution.  I already have my characters, setting, and conflicts for my story.  As the writer I need to uncover the plot and the resolution.  Do our lives have plots?  And are the conflicts ever resolved?   I'm hoping by writing my childhood memoir I'll discover the answers to these questions.

If I were to choose a dance for each chapter of my life they'd be the Bunny Hop for my childhood, Quadrille for my young married adult, and the Twist for motherhood.  

I'm calling this last chapter in my life the last Waltz.  It is a fitting dance because I still have my partner and together we will glide around the ballroom holding each other as we negotiate the turns that lay ahead of us.  

Ah, that life would be so simple for each of us--the  steps memorized and performed accordingly.  No, I think Freestyle is probably more like what really happens in our dance of life.  In fact, the Freestyle link lists these seven tips for how to dance freestyle:  

1.  Get comfortable with yourself.

2.  Move your body with the music.

3.  Get to know the song if you don't already.

4.  Put together a few moves.

5.  Make big transitions during the dance.

6.  Have inspiration.

7.  Have fun with it.

It sounds like a pretty good list for life, too.

  

Bunnies and Books

I have a guest room inundated with rabbits!  This is a pajama bag....see all the bunnies in Mother Rabbit's apron?