Another-Mom
I learned to braid on a My Little Pony. An old-school one. She was blue, with stars and planets as a cutie mark, and a rainbow mane and tail. I would meticulously divide the tail into three parts. Red and orange, yellow and green, blue and purple, and braid and braid and braid.
The instructor folded carefully; a valley fold. I copied. We turned and bent and folded up and down. Finally with a flick of the wrist, she had produced a beautiful origami flower. I had produced a mashed up ball of paper.
It was a stampede - not of cattle or Black Friday shoppers. It was a stampede for books. Book lovers started lining up for the Library Book Sale every year - some in the wee hours of the morning. By 8:15 the line was 600 deep and growing. The anticipation as they opened the doors was palpable.
It was like jumping out of an high-flying airplane without a safety net, this parenting thing. You just couldn't predict a thing, except that you were going faster than was strictly comfortable.
It was in the re-write that Jill remembered that she had forgotten everything. The dentist appointment yesterday, her anniversary two days before that... possibly most meals... But the first draft was done. She put it down, called her boyfriend, and took them out to Cafe Cher.
Up and up and up and up and up the pines grow. Ponderosa pines, the high desert, smelling of spice and vanilla. I remember childhood moments, nose pressed into the trunks, wishing I could take the fragrance away with me.
When I was six I decided that someday I would travel Europe, just me and a backpack. At 22 I sold my car and almost everything else I owned. I bought a ticket and a backpack, and some good hiking boots. And went.
Down the gallery hall Jane slid, her shoes abandoned and her striped socks warming up from the friction. The museum was hers for the night, all thanks to overhearing that the security system was down...and that convenient large Chinese jar.
The time had come to start with the planning and the making and the writing of sweet DIY tutorials on the blog. Of course, the tutorials can't be published lest someone see their gift early...but they could lie in wait. When did writing crafting tutorials become a part of the festive season?
I'm hoping for more time out in the woods. Mushroom hunting, wildcrafting, hiking, bird watching. Deep quiet. Deep peace. Deep connection. These are the things that come from moments surrounded by tall, tall trees. These are things I need, but forget about in the daily humdrum of life in town. More time in the woods.
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