contest

12o words or less

“Hidden branches of your family tree: 

Unexpected stories that changed the way you think of yourself or your family.”

          Picture a boy. Picture a train. Picture this boy on a train winding through New York at the close of the 19^th century. Before the train can stop, he is tossed into the waiting arms of strangers like his family had thrown out rotting potatoes in Ireland. Picture his parents waving goodbye forever, and picture the boy then turning to face a new harbor. Picture all of the stars overhead that aligned to guide this little boy on this large ship to this particular train and into the waiting arms of this new family. No actual pictures of these events exist, but it is enough for me to envision what a chance at life I nearly missed. 

Reflections December 29, 2012

I’m looking at photos of my students from the Christmas program and it feels like another lifetime ago.

The more I stay in this frigid artic, the less I want to leave. I’ve become as entrenched in this environment as the ice clinging to the ground. I don’t want to be uprooted again, I don’t want to be gone for so long. Six whole months. What if I become homesick?

Well, then I become homesick. And I move on.

Mom says I’m different. She says I’m calmer, that I don’t fly off the handle so much. And something else—she says I’m happier.

I ask her what she means—I want examples, specific instances to identify—but she can’t explain it any further.

I came with a checklist of items I wanted to bring back to Honduras. Shampoo, quinoa, socks, nail polish, shavers, a hair dryer—all have been filling up my suitcase until I realize this morning that I have less than ten pounds to spare.

I have a different sort of checklist now, a list of experiences I want to devour and savor before I’m whisked away. I want to see Les Miserables in theatres several times. Go ice skating at Rosa Parks Circle. Read a book. Lesson plan. Chase my dogs around at the park. Catch the eye of a cute boy. Drink wine with friends. And so much more.

I said before and mean it still—I didn’t leave Michigan to run away. And I didn’t leave Honduras wishing never to return. But 

__________________________________________

And that's where it ends. I don't know what was supposed to explain the "but"-- how I would have connected these thoughts in my mind. It wasn't something I planned to share. But... why not?

My Life was the Size of My Life

My life was the size of my life.

Its rooms were room-sized,
its soul was the size of a soul.
In its background, mitochondria hummed,
above it sun, clouds, snow,
the transit of stars and planets.
It rode elevators, bullet trains,
various airplanes, a donkey.
It wore socks, shirts, its own ears and nose.
It ate, it slept.  It opened
and closed its hands, its windows.
Others, I know, had lives larger.
Others, I know, had lives shorter.
The depth of lives, too, is different.
There were times my life and I made jokes together.
There were times we made bread.
Once, I grew moody and distant.
I told my life I would like some time,
I would like to try seeing others.
In a week, my empty suitcase and I returned.
I was hungry, then, and my life,
my life, too, was hungry, we could not keep
our hands off    our clothes on   our tongues from

Jane Hirshfield

being the hands and feet

This left me misty-eyed by 11 AM.

Take II, Mustache

that's about as far as my photoshop skills will take me.

a little boy and her dad on construction night in kindergarten

Audio

And the stars down so close, and sadness and pleasure so close together, really the same thing. Like to stay drunk all the time. Who says it's bad? Who dares to say it's bad? Preachers, but they got their own kinda drunkenness. Thin, barren women, but they're too miserable to know. Reformers, but they don't bite deep enough into living to know. No, the stars are close and dear and I have joined the brotherhood of the worlds. And everything's holy-- everything, even me. -- John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

My car radio quit a few months ago. This unfortunate turn of events led me to begin listening to podcasts on my iphone, which led me to audiobooks, which led me to marathon "reading" sessions while taking the bus/ walking/ standing in line at the post office. I've since plowed through:

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

Fit2Fat2Fit

168 Hours

Wise Blood

The Grapes of Wrath

Of Human Bondage

A Long Walk To Freedom 

29 Gifts
Enjoy Every Sandwhich
Middlesex

1/3rd of White Teeth (currently reading)

It seems like there were others.

My favorites were The Grapes of Wrath and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. Wise Blood was hauntingly good. White Teeth is also super good so far... I can't believe the author wrote it when she was younger than me!

I probably am missing out on some twists of words and not savoring as much as I would if I had the printed version, but I also am able to stick with books I likely would have given up on (or, more accurately, forgotten after I picked up other books to entertain myself with in the meanwhile). 

And so, this is a pointless post to tell you what I've been up to lately. Listening. Lots of listening.