 Chapter Four – Coming of Age (cont.) (story begins 9/8) At twelve years old, I graduated from elementary school and was appointed salutatorian for the ceremonies. My father was devastated that I hadn’t won valedictorian status and wrote my speech for me. He included verses from a song made popular by Frank Sinatra in that decade and considered by my parents a political anthem, “The House I Live In.” It was fitting. I can remember the melody, the sound, so well: “The place I live in, the road, the house, the room, the pavement of the highway or a garden all in bloom…” It was a song about tolerance and peace. While I was writing this chapter I discovered a footnote to this incident: the song was written by Abel Meeropol, the man who took in the children of the Rosenbergs after their parents had been executed. At any rate, Annabelle Edwards, whose father was the School Board Chairman and owner of the town’s only meat packing plant, was chosen valedictorian instead of me. She was an odd sort, too. House I Live In Lyrics: |
Month: October 2003
-
-
Chapter Four- Coming of Age (cont.) (story begins 9/8)
At least a year later than the other grade school girls, I passed into physical womanhood. It was common in those times to leave
information about these things up to chance and peers, and so it was for me. Whether it was anxiety or something genetic, I suffered terribly during menstruation from cramps and nausea, crawling from my bed to the bathroom to throw up, until I reached my mid 20′s and my first pregnancy.
The hormone changes also brought first love, first romance, first connection with boys as tentative men, their muscles bulking up, their chins darkening with new beards, their quick glances. The country is a fertile place for such imaginings with very black nights and long silences, intense scents and visual pleasures. Country boys grow into responsibility early by necessity, instinctively gearing towards the family they must create to sustain the farms.
My two-room country schoolhouse was replaced by a new one-story brick building with two grades to a room. In the girls’ bathroom there I first heard about menstruation. In the boiler room I received my first kiss in the grip of a boy who kissed every girl in school. I had a best friend who was as tall as I. Rosalie was a true farm girl. She had a high-school age brother who was in love with a prom queen. He was a prom king. They were royalty from an older age than we could imagine. We hid in a closet to scout their behavior, trying to learn the rules. (to be continued)
_________
Deep Thought:
I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they don’t want anybody walking in and lying down in the crash stuff, then, when somebody comes up, act like they just woke up and go, “What was THAT?!”
-
Found this on a Healthy Living Forum:
Tips for managing food and stress during the holidays.
(1) Plan ahead. Think of a friend or family member who you can call when you are feeling stressed. We have feelings and emotions that resurface during the holiday season and it is important to have a plan for when those feelings arise so that we do not behave in a self-destructive way.
(2) Take care of your body! Traveling during the holiday season can be physically exhausting. Make sure your body has an opportunity to stretch and that your muscles are given a break and a chance to relax.
(3) Be sure to get enough sleep! The hustle and bustle of the holiday season may be exciting, but depriving your mind and body of sleep can create an unhealthy imbalance, which will interfere with your ability to handle stress positively.
(4) Listen to your body! During the holiday season it is easy to neglect our hunger and fullness signals. Try to maintain a balanced meal system and be kind to yourself about what you are eating.
(5) Take time for yourself! Plan to spend some time everyday – even if it is only 10 minutes – to take a walk, write, or just be. In order to maintain a perspective on the holiday season, it is important that you take some time to reflect on your experiences and the meaning of the holidays. Try to think about what is truly important in your life.
(6) Make sure that there is food available that you feel comfortable eating. Check ahead with the host and find out about ingredients if it will put you at ease. Offer to bring a dish so that you are sure there will be food available for you. It is ideal to have as little anxiety as possible surrounding the food, especially during the holiday season.
(7) Be curious. If you find that you are berating yourself for over-indulging or eating foods you normally would not eat, try not to be judgmental about those feelings. Write in a journal, call a friend, or talk about it with your therapist. Remember that the food is just a symptom of the emotions and everything else that you are feeling.
(8) Enjoy yourself! Make sure you take time to enjoy the people around you and the essence of the holiday season. Television depictions of the holidays do not resemble the reality that accompanies the festivities. Every family encounters stress and every family has a different holiday experience. Try to enjoy the special moments by creating memories instead of fussing over unfulfilled expectations.
(9) Focus on aspects of life unrelated to food and weight! Take a break from the repetitive messages about body image on television or in magazines. Do something you would not normally do – go for a hike, volunteer at a soup kitchen, or visit with friends. The holidays are a time for reflection and celebration, so make sure you take time to do both with the people you care about.
-
Chapter Four
Coming of Age
Sierra peers up at me from beneath the rolled-back brim of her very feminine lavendar velour hat. My first and only granddaughter is almost two years old, dynamic and sturdy, and if I could spare her anything the transition from all that is the best of childhood to all that is the worst of adolescence would be it.
Always tall, I grew taller than my mother and my head bobbled hugely above my shoulders with thick unruly hair just like hers. (To this day, I’m always startled – as though I’ve never seen it before – at how big my head is.
I’ve never worn hats for this reason, except once to a funeral.) I looked dazed a lot because my vision was imperfect . The day I got my first pair of glasses my mother and I went to see the movie, Little Women, and I realized on some instinctive level that this was the real world – this technicolor extravaganza – and I’d best make a decision whether I wanted to stay in it. Like my favorite kingdom, the Land of Oz, it was only technicolor as long as you lingered there. Once you returned to Kansas, it was just plain two-dimensional in shades of black and white. I saw the beauty of it better, but the bleak reality of dirt and frowns and disenchantment was even more discernible. Did I want to scrutinize the effects of teenage hormones on my skin? Did I want to know how drab it all could be? Did I really want to register the subtle expressions of those who might ignore or dislike me? It became a lifelong shock I’ve elected to avoid to this day, wearing glasses only when absolutely necessary to see for distance or in the dark. (to be continued) (story begins 9/8)
__________
Deep Thought:
Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: “Mankind”. Basically, it’s made up of two separate words – “mank” and “ind”. What do these words mean ? It’s a mystery, and that’s why so is mankind. -
Today was a rainy blustery fall day from morning to night. My grandchildren arrived at about 11:00 am. I’ve decided to go back to consistently spending every Saturday with them because my granddaughter is kind of struggling right now with all the changes in her life.
We went to see
School of Rock, which I’d read a good review of, and I’m sorry to say I was disappointed. It could have been a clever premise for a adults & kids both film – teaching a class of preppy kids how to have a rock band. I thought Jack Black tried way too hard with over-the-top mugging. And even the music wasn’t great, like I think he’s capable of. There were various un-p.c. comments, like “being fat is fine” and liberal use of words like “ass”, which I thought were inappropriate in a kids’ movie. But the kids seemed to like it okay. So I give it 2 out of 5 stars. Then we came home and watched Lord of the Rings, Two Towers, which I’d never seen. Again, I’m afraid this trilogy is something I would never watch alone. Of course, the level of filmmaking was great, but I just don’t care about any of them really.
The best thing was getting a note in the mail from the woman who rescues squirrels. A few weeks back, I called around and found out about her because there was an abandoned baby squirrel across the street from my house. She came and picked it up and today she sent a photo of it in her hand as she was feeding it from a dropper. She said it’s doing fine. What’s one baby squirrel? A great big joy to me.
______________Deep Thought: Too bad you can’t buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out. -
My clever daughter http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=turtle_dove whipped this up. -
Chapter 4 coming Monday
Running late this morning. It’s the change in weather. Because of the night chill I turn my electric blanket thing on when I first wake up and it makes me fall back asleep longer.
Yesterday we had a pretty good storm. Right around noon the power went out all over the university hospital where I work. It came right back on because of our big emergency generators, but when I got home at 3:00 pm it was still off in my house. Lucky me though – it came on almost immediately.
Question for you this morning:
I belong to a weekly women’s circle. There is a woman whose behavior is stressing everyone out. There’s no way I can make a professional diagnosis of what is causing it. She has a very chaotic life, which she describes in a very rambling way and has trouble stopping so that she uses more than her share of the alloted time we have. She describes very disturbing events, such as rape, CSD interventions, poverty, etc. but answers all suggestions or offers of help with “yes, but…” Her 2 older children she describes as “abusive, angry, suicidal.” I have met the youngest who is bright enough to be a TAG (Talented and Gifted) student at 9 years old. This child seems sane enough, though very tiny and thin and dressed in raggedy clothes. This woman is already on disability of some kind (which she says she may lose) and has a counselor apparently, but these resources are obviously not changing much in her life for the better. So the situation is that the group leader told me this week after the meeting that she wants to find a way to get this woman out of the group as she feels others are being driven away and dreading to come. Any suggestions on what you would do in this situation or how you would handle it?
Thanks for any input whatsoever.
_________
Deep Thought:Once when I was in Hawaii, on the island of Kauai, I met a mysterious old stranger. He said he was about to die and wanted to tell someone about the treasure. I said, “Okay, as long as it’s not a long story. Some of us have a plane to catch, you know.” He stared telling hes story, about the treasure and his life and all, and I thought: “This story isn’t too long.” But then, he kept going, and I started thinking, “Uh-oh, this story is getting long.” But then the story was over, and I said to myself: “You know, that story wasn’t too long after all.” I forget what the story was about, but there was a good movie on the plane. It was a little long, though.
-
Chapter Three – Papa (last page – poem) 
Father, returning from the hay harvest, your face as I remember, full of nothing, like the sky is emptied from its long day’s battle with the anxious birds. And I was timid, but I touched your head, the pollen on your hands, and felt you resting. And I planted, under all the garlands I had built into my hair, a stem from the anemone you brought me home.
The scattered fields of polished stacks and ambushed earth were always waiting. After I had risen, we went out together and they whispered, yonder comes the mad haymaker and his child. They knew you were the actor of my season and observed me follow faithfully across a stage of sun and grass. All day with diligence we worked to paralyze the flood and turn it from its sweating path, till finally the night with black sarcasm ranged itself in sudden recklessness above the grain. And leaning on your arm, I led you slowly back.
In time I had to flow, with what was coming to my heart, another way, but my resolves are saturated with the past and what I place upon the tables of my judges is the working of that graceful tune into a larger song. Be certain that this child is yours, and even ashes will not translate her into a different house.
I memorized in innocence the pure fugue of those years. Immediate and constant is the heart I proffer in salute to him who gave me courage rather than security to wear – the sides of time will see us pass in other voyages of love.
(to be continued)
_______________
Deep Thought: I remember that one fateful day when Coach took me aside. I knew what was coming. “You don’t have to tell me,” I said. “I’m off the team, aren’t I?” “Well,” said Coach, “you never were really ON the team. You made that uniform you’re wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. You show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times.” It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this Coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that’s when I felt the handcuffs go on. -
Chapter Three – Papa (cont.) (story begins 9/8)
Of all these things, the one I can see in my mind, the one that brings the stirring of all magic things when I think of it is the
colored ink. Secrets can be written out into the world, I have learned, and they come in the deep greens and purples and browns and blues of a child’s deepest unformed fears and longings. There are giants, myths and angels which can only be drawn in colored ink.
My father was the giant of my childhood. By the time I had children of my own, the years with him had faded into myth. And somewhere now Papa is an angel.
(to be continued)
_______________________
Deep Thought: I guess I kinda lost control, because in the middle of the play I ran up and lit the evil puppet villain on fire. No, I didn’t. Just kidding. I just said that to help illustrate one of the human emotions, which is freaking out. Another emotion is greed, as when you kill someone for money, or something like that. Another emotion is generosity, as when you pay someone double what he paid for his stupid puppet.
