Josie Does Stuff

Flowers and Castle Improvement

The End of Innocence

N.C. Wyeth - Jodie and the Fluttermill

Yesterday at the library, Josie went out to the little playground. There was a group of slightly older kids running and playing and she was inspired by their antics to climb the ladder and go down the slide all by herself -- over and over--'like a big kid' she told me. This was a first, as last time she refused to slide from the top. A victory.

All this while, she was very aware of the other kids and at some point approached a little boy who seemed to be about her age. I was on a bench (where she had told me to sit) watching and couldn't hear what she said but I suspect it was, "Will you play with me?"

And the little boy hit her.

She was stunned at his reaction -- as was I. He hadn't hit her hard and she just stood there for a moment then turned and went back to the slide where she sat down, evidently struggling not to cry. I started toward her but the boy's mother had seen the whole thing and she immediately swooped in and carried him over to Josie and had him apologize. 

A little later, Josie came to me and said she was ready to go inside. I told her that sometimes kids did dumb things and I was proud of her for not crying. And she told me, "But he was sorry."

Learning experiences. 

Addendum: I suddenly realized that Josie was modelling her playground experience on one of her favorite books--in which the little girl goes to the playground and finds kids to play with. Josie had insisted on wearing her boots yesterday--a puzzling choice in this heat, but the girl in the book wears boots. And the mama sits on a bench, staying out of the play. 

Time Travel -- Back to 2003

So I've worked my way through the photos on my laptop and can't resist posting some of the highlights. Above is a young Eddie the Cat and below is a scene from the farm in Tennessee that we owned back then.

Back in 2003 my friends and I made banners for our library's stacks -- still in use today.

Dog Club (Maggie, Eddie, Jack, and Bear) met every morning on our bed.

Christmas dinner -- some folks we miss. 

A pomelo section -- I've always loved this picture for some reason.

A Year Ago

I've been trying to reduce the size of my photo files -- delete all the duplicates and near duplicates and otherwise not-worth-saving stuff. I'm working backwards and have gone as far as August of last year. I've deleted around 2,ooo pictures, realizing that possibly one can have too many pictures of sunflowers/daylilies/blacksnakes/snow/autumn leaves/sunrises, tomatoes, and, yes, even Josie -- who accounts for much of my picture taking these days.

It was good to be reminded of what our view was before the tree were cut. And amazing that we let it go on that way so long -- kinda like the frog in the slowly warming pot who's cooked before he realizes what's happening.  (It just occurred to me--that analogy is uncomfortably like the state of our nation and, more importantly, of our environment today--but I digress.) 

And how our girl has grown! She was a real toddler and her hair was straight. Obviously, she already had attitude.

I'll continue this voyage of attrition over the coming weeks. And I'll try to to a better job of editing and deleting from now on!

Wash Day with Josie

Two of My Favorite Things

Sunrise Surprise

'Just another day in Paradise,' John called to me as I hurried, bleary-eyed in  my nightshirt, to the front porch to catch the sunrise.

And I did, just barely. But it wasn't till evening when I downloaded the pictures to my computer that I found I'd also caught an early-rising humming bird.

At first, I thought it was a spaceship. Or a fairy.

A VERY Big Book

It had been almost forty years since I'd read any Le Guin but I still remembered the enchantment I felt, sailing that amazing archipelago. Then, when I began to see posts from Charles Vess--one of my favorite illustrators--about the giant edition of all Le Guin's Earthsea books that he was in the process of illustrating, The Books of Earthsea went on my wish list and, in due course, I received a copy for Christmas.

It's really big, dauntingly big. Too heavy really to read any way except sitting at a table.  That seemed weird, accustomed as I am to carrying whatever I'm currently reading all around the house--kitchen counter, sofa, bed, porch. 

But I read it at the table -- most mornings after breakfast I'd read a few pages--five or six or till I got to a good stopping place. 

And I found that I really enjoyed this little ritual. Le Guin's writing is so rich that my morning reading gave me much to reflect on during the day. And I savored every sentence, rather than dashing through as I usually do.

The last time it took me this long to read a book was back in high school when I took a notion to read The Divine Comedy.

Then too, I read in small doses and surprised myself at how much I enjoyed the process. (The Books of Earthsea is much more accessible--just physically unwieldy.)

All six of the Earthsea novels are here, along with a handful of Earthsea short stories, and an insightful lecture, originally presented at Oxford.  It's 992 pages and every one is thoughtful reading.

I love these tales of Earthsea and look forward to revisiting them. One thing that I found especially interesting was that the first three were written between 1968 and 1972  and, as LeGuin points out, have the default male hero. (He was, however, brown-skinned -- a departure for those times.) But when she started the projected fourth Earthsea book, in which the central character was a woman, Le Guin found herself blocked. 

Le Guin says: "I knew what men did in books, and how one wrote about them. But when it came to what women did, or how to write about it, all I had was my own experience . . . It was high time I learned to write from my own body, my own gender, in my own voice."

It took about eighteen years. Years during which the feminist movement burgeoned and raised consciousnesses everywhere.  Including, evidently, LeGuin's.

Le Guin was in her early forties when the third book came out--and in her sixties when she picked up the thread for the last three books. The final books of the cycle deepen the stories of the characters, reflecting this new awareness of feminism, as women take their place in Earthsea lore, no longer relegated to supporting roles.

I found it fascinating to trace the development of the author and her mythos. Her commentary--in the introduction, the afterwords, and the final lecture, provide a wonderful insight into the workings of an extraordinary talent.

Now I'm going to have to find another book for this morning ritual. . .