Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

I was tempted to rant about the napless toddler day we had yesterday, or the smoky smell in my house from neighbors' woodstoves and an unfortunate, lengthy temperature inversion, or about yet another chaotic stress dream that involved unruly students, a truncated schedule, and me losing my voice and my temper. Then I stopped-- why do it? We all have niggling bull-marlarky stuff in our lives. Others of us are contending --still contending-- with much more dangerous, unsettling things: there are horrible wars raging around our globe, there are mean, selfish, rude people who wield actual political/social/economic power stalking our country, there are people dealing with sudden illness, unexpected deaths of parents, and so on. Who gives a damn, really, about petty stuff? I can open a window. This past year has been one of those that fall under the heading, "living in interesting times," which, in the original context, was more of a threat than an wish or observation. We have...

What is it about Disney Magic? I mean, really, the toddler will fall asleep in minutes, putting herself in the recliner with a blanket, with anything Disney on. Best choice: Pooh. (And I don't mind a bit.) I have a theory bubbling up in my brain about the creation of content and the intended results. Any time she is trying to nap with, say, Daniel Tiger (PBS), it's a no-go. Anything learning-related, it's a no-go. I wonder if the content and the pacing is scripted to enhance brain busy-ness. And if so, so be it. It's a good thing...but not for naps.  I'd love a nap. Or a full night's sleep. I can't recall being this tired for this many days, weeks, in a row. It's important to note, though, that I willingly signed on for Toddler Watching. I'd do it again and again; she is our favorite human, and the situation warrants that we engage fully. But OMG full engagement! Either Meg was a super easy, biddable child, or I've forgotten just about every damn...

Isn't it strange to need the humidifier set up and all it ever does is rain? Odd juxtaposition. Today is the day I put my house to rights: tree removal, mess clean up, and getting a few groceries. I looked at the flyer to see what is on sale, and I'm sorely tempted to get steak tips. I don't know why, because I usually do not care one bit about steak, or much red meat, actually. Maybe my iron is low. I'll get the shrimp, likely, and a few odds and ends, but the best part of a holiday meal of such size as ours was is that the leftovers have sustained us. Ok, we are about sick of ham-related things. I was going to make a ham mac and cheese, but I dunno. I don't even want pasta. We had that with meatballs the other night.  I don't really know what I want, and I'm feeling out of sorts. Not sick, thankfully, just left-footed. Not quite myself. It's probably an expected side effect of being so unusually busy and exhausted. Like Alice in the Johnny Depp version...

I will leave the Christmas tree up one more day, but then it has to be taken out. I know-- Epiphany-- but my house is particularly dry, and this poor evergreen ain't so green now. I'm pretty sure it is going to cause WW3, too-- the Spicy Toddler loves to turn it on when she gets here every morning. I will have to figure something out to take the place of that little job.  And doesn't she ever love to help! I can't vacuum, sweep, or dust without her needing to do it, too. She wants to help Papa clean the pellet stove. And most of the time, I can come up with a way to involve her in the chores. If I don't, all hell breaks loose.  So tomorrow, I'll have G bring the ornament boxes down, and I'll put them away (hopefully) neater than I did last year. It's always a goal. And the lights will have to be unwound from the super dry tree (shower of needles), and then wound around cardboard rectangles, so I don't lose my mind next December.  The little white art...

Huzzah, I got it done! I've been dabbling as a poetry collection reviewer for not quite a year now, and I have found that I really enjoy the challenge. The books are widely varied, and I have been really humbled and gratified to hear that the poets are pretty pleased with how I approach reading, thinking, and writing about their work. I'm a scholar, first and foremost, and over the years, my inquisitiveness has been trained by a fabulous pantheon of working poet-teachers I've met. Only one book has challenged me too much; yes, I wrote the review, but the publication that set the task for me ended up not wanting the essay. I don't mind; I didn't really like the book, as I found it pretty inaccessible.  That all said, the one I just finished reading, thinking about, and finally, writing about was delightful to read. I love a good ekphrastic poem, and this collection was full of 'em. Add to that a really skilled poet who is able to bring the reader along from exter...

Yesterday was a pretty great day in a lot of ways. Holly was super excited, loved her toys and other gifts, ate all the food and then some, and had a good nap. She wanted to go to bed early enough; she declared she was tired, and off she went to her house with her balloons and her pink bunny.  Now what? For a lot of people, Christmas is now over, the pretty things need to be stowed, and we are supposed to race off to the next holiday--New Year's Day-- and push onward to either Valentine's Day or Washington's Birthday, depending on the product you are selling. But no. No-no-no . The Wise Men haven't even gotten to the stable. Let's not toss the baby out of the manger just yet. Which, to me, is a relief of sorts. Getting ready for the Big Day takes a lot of work, so why not enjoy it? The sparkling lights will bring joy for a bit longer, and I won't take the tree down for a few more days. I think I'll leave the little white tree up for a while, as well.  Celebr...

  From Stave Five, A Christmas Carol , by Charles Dickens: What’s to-day.’ cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him. `Eh.’ returned the boy, with all his might of wonder. `What’s to-day, my fine fellow.’ said Scrooge. `To-day.’ replied the boy. `Why, Christmas Day.’ `It’s Christmas Day.’ said Scrooge to himself. `I haven’t missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can...' And so it is. The Spirit can, and will, do amazing things, if given free rein. We spend far too much time orchestrating and planning and second-guessing, when, in fact, what we need to do (what I need to do) is learn how to trust. To exercise our Faith muscle. To believe. And in the Spirit of Christmas and of the Spirit that animates us and guides us, I wish you and yours a blessed day.  C

  Home. It may mean something different to each person, but to me, home means feeling secure, knowing you are warm, loved, and wanted. My father read to me from The Wind in the Willows when I was quite small, and I have his copy today. The "Dulce Domum" chapter hits me hard, especially when things are pushing me farther and farther away from where my heart feels at ease. I feel like a re-reading is imminent. We want so much to please others, to be brave and go beyond our comfort zone, to be a part of the Big Adventure. But yet, when the spirit calls us to our home, we need to heed that calling. When life is far too harsh, the expectations too demanding, we need a cozy fire, a comfy chair, and a warm drink to toast our frozen hands and feet. We need the cocoa and conversation, while the wild world rages outside our walls.  I hope you have this in your life.  Happy Christmas, and please, listen to the mouse-carolers, and feed the cold and hungry ones as well. C From "Dulc...

And here we are, two days before Christmas. No snow on the ground, and we are a tired and stressed little family. Tim is still trying to turn the full corner to recovery in Boston, and Meg is still there, waiting and advocating for his care. We understand that it's a complicated, long, and arduous process, and we are still praying hard. Friends have helped us all along the way for almost a solid month now, and it's nowhere near over. There is little we here at home can do to affect anything at all in Boston, but we can do a whole lot to keep things going for when Meg can come home, and then, for when Tim is able as well. Cleaning and reorganizing projects, measuring for a hand rail up the steps to their house, arranging for groceries and babysitting-- and a plethora of other things as well-- including making Christmas happen for Holly-- have filled our days and our minds.  What a week. What a month, really. So much stress, work, negotiations with weather and people. But then, l...

Another night of stressful dreams; this time, I was tasked with not only keeping a small crew of teenagers safe from some sort of malevolent intruder, I had to also go about hosting a children's party at the same time-- two small toys or candy per kid, and keep an eye on the door to make sure that the intruder wouldn't find us. Me, specifically-- apparently, whomever this was wanted me dead. O great. Well, I made it to morning alive, in the flesh, and I have hot coffee.  What I would dearly love is some untroubled, unbroken sleep. Maybe Santa has that in his big bag of gifts? Unlikely. Poor man works nights. That all said, today is the last day of school for a little over a week. I am grateful for the time to (I hope) figure out my routine, get some rest, and take a breath. The crazy train will continue, things are going to be all sorts of unsettled for a stretch of time to come, but maybe, maybe, instead of making things up as I go on the daily/hourly, I will be able to sort ...

It's Thursday before Christmas, and all through the rooms A little Tornado spins, laughs, and zooms. From books to art projects, tv and some snacks, We make very sure there is nothing she lacks. She is our sweetheart, a challenge and delight-- She keeps us quite us quite busy, from morning 'til night. New words and pronouncements, questions galore-- There's no one more special that we could adore. This Christmas is different, not at all what we planned, Those things have been shifted, and situations demand That we frame and reframe what Christmas is to be, And save the glitter and hustle until she is three.

I am prone to having dreams where all hell is breaking loose. I'm in charge of keeping some child/children safe, and it's always somewhere unsafe. Last night's menu of stress dreams involved water gushing into a building, pipes breaking, and animals and children were at risk. Yay.  These dreams tend to appear when I'm presented with challenges in my waking life that are far beyond my ability to fix things. I'm not at all surprised that my subconscious decided to create a challenging dream for me, given the way things have been both in my family and in my community, what with health emergencies and floods and so on.  That said, I sure would appreciate extra coffee today. I was up rather late talking with my daughter about the things that she's going to have to change/shift in her physical and emotional settings. It's a lot to learn and the information does not apply only to her. It will involve us all, since we are a family. Diet changes, stairs, no lifting, ...

Floods. In a practical sense, this flooding that much of the East Coast is experiencing is quite unusual for December, and it is both destructive and deadly. How awful for folks who are already struggling with other things, how terrifying for those who are living unhoused and in encampments, who are barely tolerated or even despised in their communities. It's a sad indictment on our society when people cannot afford to have a secure shelter, and here in my own town, there are a few such encampments. I'm not sure if this crisis makes things worse for them, though it clearly is devastating, or if it will force people to see what has happened to "the least of our brothers." The saddest part, at least on the local governmental level, is that they have asked for help from the select board. They would like to see some of the empty commercial properties converted to boarding houses, and so on. And yet, the select board is still fixated on the mural. Yeah, so much for Christi...

This morning, it's 50 degrees and pouring buckets and buckets of rain. Granted, it's not ice, it's not snow (thank goodness, I don't even want to think of how buried we'd be), but flooding and overall wet and dangerous conditions exist. I don't see much chance of a white Christmas this year, and to be honest, I'm actually okay with that. I used to be so upset if it were brown and muddy, but the older I get, the more I don't mind not having slippery roads and shoveling and so on. The last week of school before a holiday break is usually a bit unusual, and this week is no different. Today is "Ugly Sweater Day"-- I don't know about you, but I don't own any. At least I don't think they are. That said, I have a silly bright green sweatshirt that proclaims that it is my "Hallmark Christmas Movie Watching Sweatshirt" complete with the iconic red truck and tree. I'll wear that. Tomorrow is the complete opposite: Christmas fest...

Yesterday was an emotionally difficult day. The little dog who lived in my house for 9 years has been sick. This was nothing new, but yet, it was. She'd stopped eating, was uncomfortable, and kept looking at me with imploring, sad eyes. It was time to get some answers. Geoff took her to the emergency vet, and it was determined that between her age (14) and the failing of her liver and kidneys, it was time. I was a wreck, G was a mess, and I had to tell Meg, long-distance, that her doggo was going to be released from pain.  Not a great day. Not a lot of reason to rejoice, but here we are, the third Sunday of Advent.  I am hoping that today is a better one; I won't go into any details, but prayers, please. Lots of them. Flood the gates of heaven with intercessions, please. With thanks, C

This morning, instead of sleeping in, I felt compelled-- truly called -- to attend the Rorate* Mass at St. Rose. To say that it was a moving experience doesn't even come close: the church, all in darkness, only lit by dozens of candles, the plain chant, the prayers, the faithful 30 or so parishioners all with the intention of giving thanks to the Holy Mother and asking for her continued protection as our Mother. Deacon Steve's homily really hit home for me today, as he focused on the role of women as a source of caregiving and of strength in our communities and families. How we become fiercely protective of those in our care, those we love, of our families--especially of our children. That's exactly how I've been feeling lately, both powerless and filled with mother-love and an emotional determination to make things right, whatever it is, even if I really can't.  I pray today, and every day, for the guidance, blessing, wisdom, and intercession of the Holy Mother. I...

I got a lovely new-to-me solid wood writing table yesterday. A friend of mine holds estate sales, and she'd posted a photo of this very-much-needed desk. I needed it. Seriously--not just because my existing one is a an unsteady, very utilitarian Amazon wonder, but my very being needed it. You are all aware of how unbelievably unsettled things have been of late, and this desk is solid wood. I think it's maple. It's heavy. It has drawers--more than I need, even. Mostly, though, I think I was not just drawn to the overall beauty of the piece, I was, and am, comforted by the solidity of it.  There is very little right now in my daily life that I would call "solid," in the sense of dependable, routine, and so on. To have a lovely workspace, one that holds all my stuff and has room for more, one that I can write at, think at, and just sit at-- it's an altar of sorts to my inner self. I need a sanctuary, and so, the desk. I'm sure I'll tweak what goes where...

Ever wonder why doing the "right thing" is worth it? I mean really, it seems that almost every time we turn on the news or check social media, some scurrilous person is getting ahead at the expense of others, usually people just like us. It sucks. So why be good? Why be a team player? Why bother about other people's needs or interests? It's simple, really: when you have invested in others, when your time comes, others might come to your aid in turn. My daughter is, in short, a good person. She's experienced social ostracization, sitting in the shadows, being the target of stupid high school bullying, missing out on this and that-- but she's never failed to be a decent human being. I'm really proud and humbled, both, by that fact. She and her little family are struggling mightily against odds that really suck. There's really no other way to put it. But the outpouring of love, concern, prayers, and practical/financial assistance in their time of extremit...

It's Wednesday, and that means it's halfway through the work week. Holly is going to hang out with Papa today, so there's no rush to get her up and out and jettisoned into the world-- I'm glad. She's a real trooper, and she has made new friends and she's been very patient for two years old, but she needs a break in the busy-ness. We all do, right? Yesterday, the Home Team worked out a plan for Holly to spend the weekend at "Auntie Bob's" house, where she will have a good time. The underlying idea is to help her along the way towards being potty-trained as well-- apparently, there is a full-court press approach that will work, and since she's showing interest in being a "big girl," it makes sense. This means, too, that I will have a very open weekend-- I've been clearing my desk to be available for her, so no papers to grade. Whatever shall I do? I'll tell you what I will do: wrap presents. Write out Christmas cards. Hopefully,...

This Mimi (Memere) biz is tough work.  Combing a toddler's hair at 6:30 in the morning, blaming the bed elves for the knots, wrestling her into and out of night clothes/day clothes-- oof. But the victory!! I got a hair clip to stay in her hair! Huzzah! Holly is a pretty little girl. Her hair is naturally curly, and thus, knots. That, and her method of self-soothing is to twist her hair. Meg's hair was definitely not curly, and was super fine-- still prone to knots and those damned bed elves invaded nightly-- but she didn't twist her hair. One solution has been the leave-in  conditioner, and that helps a lot. But omg-- untangling the knots. I think the untangling knots is the theme of this week. Pope Francis, who has a special devotion to the Virgin Mary, is fond of her incarnation as Mary, Undoer of Knots. I have the statue in my house-- it seems life presents me (us) with a whole lot of entangled situations.  Here's the Pope's prayer. I hope it helps you, too. C Ho...

Third Monday in a row with a weather delay for school. Not a problem-- I can use all the time I can get to finish up some house chores and drink my coffee in a civilized manner. Holly is safely ensconced with friends since last evening, so it's just me and the doggo for a couple of hours. Do you have any idea what I can get done in two unscheduled hours? It's amazing. I hope everyone who does not have a delay has a safe drive to where-ever they must go. I don't want to gloat about my good fortune without being mindful of the travelling conditions for others. But right now, given how intensely busy my weekend was and how intensely busy this week is sorting out to be, I'll take this gift of time.  I should be working on Christmas cards or wrapping, but I'll likely pop some laundry in to wash and clean the downstairs bathroom. Both are more immediately necessary anyhow. On the way home, I will stop off to buy more diapers and wipes, too-- maybe we are getting into a rh...

Faith is a word too often taken lightly. Faith requires belief in things unseen, in full trust, needing no outward sign to keep the flame burning brightly.  It's hard to muster faith when life is handing down some really troubling things. Child-like faith seems too trusting sometimes; but then, are we not all children of someone? Of God? Letting go of the reins to any given situation seems risky: the odds are not good, and we feel, somehow, that if we don't try to control it all, we will be accused of not caring enough. And our biggest and loudest accuser will be ourselves. That said, why do we think we have the strength, the intelligence, the ability at all to be in control? Point to ponder.  That does not mean give up and let things go entirely. Instead, I think it's more aligned with the intention to grab your Faith like a trusty shield and wade into the messiness. Prayer is a formidable "weapon" as well-- we can fight the darkness with belief. But it takes act...

We are learning humility and gratitude in new ways. Patience is a daily struggle-- with each other, but more, with waiting. There is much to be grateful for, but it's also really hard not to wail "why me? why us? why now?" to the heavens. I guess that means we are human. I'd like to take a longer view of things, and refer to classical values. It doesn't hurt to use these as a personal report card: "In Christian tradition, the seven heavenly virtues combine the four cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude with the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity. The seven capital virtues, also known as contrary or remedial virtues, are those opposite the seven deadly sins. They are often enumerated as chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility" (Wikipedia). I like to think that we measure up okay in mos...

I had the most bizarre and stressful dream last night. I was at a new writing conference, but one run by my good friend Dawn, whom I have known for years. Let me just say that she is a smart, warm, funny, and deeply compassionate person in real life.  Not in this dream. We were all given a theme we had to dress like for the week we were to be together. I was nowhere near home, and my theme, once I got to the conference site, was NAKED. What?? Others got bikers, or the 1950s, etc. And we were to remain in character all week. Well, I tried. I grabbed a huge towel, though, because who wants to stick to vinyl seats? It was humiliating-- I know what I look like unadorned. Let's just say, I'm "lived in." Some of my best friends in the poetry world could not bring themselves to look at me, conversation was impossible, and I was really uncomfortable. I went to the room being used as an office, and I confronted my friend who was adamant that, since I had read the fine print an...

Well, it's started again: 3:30 am wake-ups because there's just too much on my mind, and sleep deserts me. At least the laundry is done. Stress is a real motivator, eh?  The last time I felt this way, my father was dying, and I could not do anything about it. I guess that's the grim answer to my question the other day, regarding what happens when the fixer can't fix things. I lose my appetite and can't sleep. Chores and so on took til 9:30 last night, and I fell asleep in my chair. I woke up at 10:10, then put in a load of laundry. I got five hours of sleep-- enough to function. So be it. In the meantime, we are keeping things rolling around here. Holly is getting sort of used to this wacky bouncing around thing; I pray it's helping her be resilient. She's a trooper, to be sure. But even little ones need a sense of stability, a "for-sure" that they can depend on. That's my goal. She is the most important piece of this puzzle, and the only one I...

Today, G will be primary care-giver for Holly, which is going to be a lot of singing, marching, and other shenanigans. She sure loves her Papa! They arrived at the house at 5:15 this morning-- Holly is an early riser-- and off we go!  We will be choosing a Christmas tree later today (at least, that is the plan). While we may not be feeling as festive as we normally might be, it's important to me, and to her parents, that we preserve some holiday magic for the tiny one. She is totally aware of Santa, of lights and sparkle and snow. I would not do a thing to harm this for her-- things are too stressful already, and she deserves stability and magic. So, we will do that. It's the very least I can do. It'll take a few days to decorate it, and I can't do a thing until the lights are strung on it. That is a job I usually bow out of because 1/ I'm too short, and 2/ G and I do not work well together on things like that. That has been Meg's special talent--both hanging l...

I dare say, we may be figuring out a working schedule for Holly-sitting! We are blessed with friends, to be sure. The biggest factor is to make sure she has some stability in these very unsettled and stressful times. Today, she'll spend time with a long-time friend of ours, the mother of Meg's best friend. Tomorrow, she'll be with G. Thursday, with Meg's best friend's husband, and Friday, with the mother of a high school friend of hers.  Holly the social butterfly ... Each night, though, she'll be in her own bed. That is requiring G to sleep on the couch at Meg's house, but it's best for Holly to know that, at the end of each day, routine will be preserved. Sleepovers elsewhere are fun, but she needs routine, if this is going to be a long-term adjustment in her little life. So, we shift. It's not too bad, but I think I may be convincing G to haul up the rollaway bed for his own comfort. We'll see.  Child-rearing is no joke. I've not done this...

Monday, snowing, and hanging in there. (One of those is a fib...) We have a two-hour delay, which will be helpful not only for travel, but so I can get my papers graded that I didn't get to over the weekend. And here we are, the first full week of December, of Advent, and I'm feeling incredibly stressed.  Honestly, I just don't feel holiday-ish. I have my gifts bought, and there's plans to get a tree, but it feels like going through the motions. Which, of course, it is-- Holly deserves a good Christmas. We all do, really, but what we need and want is, so far, out of reach and out of our control.  I want my family. My dad died in 2022, and I'm still working that through. Every time I see a Peanuts special, hear a guitar, glance at a book or movie we both liked, I get a little sad. The current state of increased stress and worry is just making things even more difficult. And it's not about me, really it isn't. I hate seeing my daughter so upset, so worried, s...

Today, Holly and I will color pictures and read books, watch movies and listen to music, and watch chickadees at the bird feeder. In short, we will be toddler-busy. Hopefully, there will be a nap at some point, at least for the little one.  Meg is still in Boston with Tim, and we are all still praying. We will keep things as routine-based here for Holly, keep the pets fed and so on, and pray some more. Tonight, Holly will have a sleep-over at Meg's best friend's house because G and I have to get up early for work. After I get home, I'll take over again. Our plan is, by necessity, patchworked together, but we are doing our best. Most people yearn for more time with their grandbabies, and I have to say, I love it too-- but I am darned tired. I slept 8 hours last night, and it's nowhere near enough. But we will make it work; the papers I am supposed to grade will get done, but it may be first thing tomorrow morning.  I have a turkey carcass stewing down for soup tonight, t...

UP at 4am. G spent the night at Meg's house so Holly could sleep in her own bed, which is a good thing. The least amount of disruption the better. That said, he has to work today, so I got up at 4 to shower and get ready for the day-- and Holly and I started our day at 5:15. "Cowboy bunny! Yeehaaa!" and off we go. Today, I hope to get some bread baked, and get some groceries. Anything else will be a bonus. Meg's bestie from forever ago is going to hang out with Holly for a bit so I can scoot to the store-- I am not up to wrestling a toddler into and out of the grocery cart. We have a good plan in place, and we will keep things going. Yes, there are going to be wrinkles in the plan and probably hiccups in the execution of it, but in the long run, as long as all people and critters are warm, fed, and dry, we are doing what we need to do. In the meantime, if you are a praying person, please do. Every voice lifted to heaven helps. If you are able to donate to the Go Fund ...

Well, heck. We are back to just oil heat for a bit-- this time, because the chimney is clogged up. We had a bit of unexpected excitement last evening when I had to call 911 to have the fire department come visit, as I thought we might be experiencing a chimney fire. We were not, but it was high drama and a real capper to an already emotionally exhausting week. Kudos to them for showing up quickly and checking it all out. It is one of my deepest fears to have a house fire, and on top of all the other things going on, I was not in a good place to manage my feelings through that event. I spent a rather quiet evening thereafter, though. I got Holly all ready for bed and when G got home (for the 3rd time), he took her home to her house and snugged her into bed. I watched the end of the Bruins game (they won), a little food tv, and went to bed.  This is odd, this solo act in the house. It's really quiet, just me, the doggo, and the coffee maker. The heat is humming along, and the traffic...