Tuesday, October 22, 2013
How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing, Ever a child can do! ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
You know, it's shocking to me how hard it is to get back into the groove of writing on a daily...well, almost!...basis again. I've gotten a little rusty and it's kind of like working a cranky old hinge that doesn't want to bend. I think my brain cells have atrophied in the past year or so. But I began writing a novel about a year ago and started on a roll with it, writing 22,000 words. Then I was needed to take care of my grandsons and I put the book on the back burner while I was busy with that. It simmered in the back of my mind for a while but I'm afraid the flame fizzled out. Pfffffttttt! Just like that. So one of the reasons I'm determined to come here again is to stretch out those reluctant cells and get my mind-juices flowing again. I'm hoping it will be like riding a bike...once you learn, even if you don't ride one for years, you hop back on board and away you go.
This past week my son and his wife took our grandsons to a state park to camp for the weekend. State parks here, at least some of them, have all kinds of events and nature lectures thru the year, things that are educational but also fun. That particular weekend was their annual Halloween celebration. We spent almost all day Saturday with them and had a wonderful time. I took the boys on the hayride and on the way back to the campsite we stopped at a little play ground that no one was using. The boys got on the swings and I pushed them for a while. When they got off and ran over to the slide I decided to sit down and swing myself! The boys thought that was hysterical but I told them there are some things in life you never grow too old to do, and one of them in my book is swinging! Oh, it felt so good! I think the last time I'd swung was when my kids were little and we were at Westmoreland Park in Portland. A long time ago.
Dear Hubby took our oldest grandson out squirrel hunting for the first time on Saturday so he and his younger brother spent Friday nite with us. After he and Pa had taken off the next morning, Cooper and I were sitting on the couch watching cartoons. He absently reached up and started twining his fingers thru my hair, something he used to do all the time as a baby while he drank his bottle. I brought it to his attention and told him I bet he couldn't remember ever doing that...which, of course, he couldn't. But as he sifted his fingers thru my hair he said, "Gram, I don't see hardly anyone with white hair." I told him no, most people color their hair when they start getting older...they don't like it when grey and white hairs start showing up because they're afraid of growing older. I told him I'd decided to let mine go natural, that getting old holds no fear for me. I don't know what went thru his mind as I said that, but he leaned over close into my side and hugged my arm and said, "I love you with all my heart, Grams." Life just doesn't get any better than that.
Our house was in very nice condition when we moved into it but it had been owned by the same family for over 50 years and outside of a kitchen remodel probably in the late 70s or early 80s, not much has been modernized. Elmer and Janie were the parents' names. He was a "Ford man", working in the car industry all his adult life. Janie was a homemaker and they raised three sons in this house. Sometimes as I go about doing my housework, Janie comes to mind. I think of her as I'm standing at the sink doing dishes, wondering what she thought about as she stood there and watched the seasons pass outside the window as I do. Did she watch her boys toss around a football in the back yard? Did she spot cardinals in the maple tree? How crowded the table must have been at nite when everyone sat down to dinner, those big boisterous teenage boys with hearty appetites! Obviously she and Elmer loved this house because they both lived here until the boys were all grown and gone, until they both died. Dear Hubby and I love it just as much, I'm sure, tho our tenancy here will be of much shorter duration, considering he's 60 and I'm creeping up to the same age very fast. As we signed the papers on the day we closed, one of the sons who has become a famous record producer in Hollywood circles told us, "That house is filled with a lot of happy memories for me. I hope it's filled with them for you, too." Wasn't that just the nicest thing to say? I know the moment I walked in here for the first time I felt like I'd come "home". There was such a peaceful, serene, happy vibe to it. And when Dear Hubby and I go some place, whether we're only gone for the day or for a week or so, when we think of home, this is it. This is where he hangs his hats. This is where I've made my nest. Home....