...and the sure way any shrewish woman can put poison in the pot for her mate, whether or no he be as wise as Socrates and call her Xanthippean or merely Sarah-Jane-ish or Francescan, routinely vituperative or merely undergoing "one of her bad days." M.F.K. Fisher
Hee hee hee. Here I was looking for a noble quote, and found this. Sounds good to me. It does happen, you know; nagging, shrewish, grumped-out, vitriolic. What a great group of words, I mean, who can, or even wants to, be nice, especially when we are tired, hungry, misused? Of course, words can be suicidal, can be devastating, can wound and maim. The childhood cry, "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me..." simply isn't true. Words can be poisonous, cruel, debilitating; words can separate families, start wars. Left untended, innuendo can grow into harsh reality, hurt can fester into wildness, grief into rage.
Hee hee hee. Here I was looking for a noble quote, and found this. Sounds good to me. It does happen, you know; nagging, shrewish, grumped-out, vitriolic. What a great group of words, I mean, who can, or even wants to, be nice, especially when we are tired, hungry, misused? Of course, words can be suicidal, can be devastating, can wound and maim. The childhood cry, "Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me..." simply isn't true. Words can be poisonous, cruel, debilitating; words can separate families, start wars. Left untended, innuendo can grow into harsh reality, hurt can fester into wildness, grief into rage.Golly. Choosing words carefully, with consciousness is important to me. Like choosing a family of fabric and colors to create a patchwork quilt for a newborn, I prefer to bring love and joy into language. The quilt will hold an innocent newborn, or a thumb-sucking toddler. It is a big responsibility to craft a quilt.
This morning I realized (working on this post, Day #2! Usually I just do it) that I had quilted myself into the proverbial corner with the idea of words. What to say? How to say it? I want more of this life... and I know enough to know that it is me, I am in charge (a little) of how my life IS. The places of pain are old, have mouldy edges and smouldering embers. Today I am curious about those corners left unexplored, the stones left unturned, the walks not taken, the words not spoken. This morning I find myself wanting more: more life, more money, more travel, more more more more. It seems that I want so much, in ways I cannot find words to express. If I were a goose, I would just take off and migrate.
The little one for whom this quilt takes shape is coming today! We have word that labor has begun, that all is well. My dear friend is there, with her daughter the Mommy. Her first grand baby is arriving. Oh, my heart fills with love and knowing, holds this space open and full for her, for her daughter, for the dad... for the whole large, noisy clan. This baby comes fully loved.
I am taking Emerson out on 'the long line' today. Ms. Luna will wait, safely, in her crate, will be happy to realize that she, too, gets a turn. I am taking at least two, long walks under this low, gray sky. Then, zipp zipp zipp... that quilt is coming together!
This morning I realized (working on this post, Day #2! Usually I just do it) that I had quilted myself into the proverbial corner with the idea of words. What to say? How to say it? I want more of this life... and I know enough to know that it is me, I am in charge (a little) of how my life IS. The places of pain are old, have mouldy edges and smouldering embers. Today I am curious about those corners left unexplored, the stones left unturned, the walks not taken, the words not spoken. This morning I find myself wanting more: more life, more money, more travel, more more more more. It seems that I want so much, in ways I cannot find words to express. If I were a goose, I would just take off and migrate.
The little one for whom this quilt takes shape is coming today! We have word that labor has begun, that all is well. My dear friend is there, with her daughter the Mommy. Her first grand baby is arriving. Oh, my heart fills with love and knowing, holds this space open and full for her, for her daughter, for the dad... for the whole large, noisy clan. This baby comes fully loved. 
I am taking Emerson out on 'the long line' today. Ms. Luna will wait, safely, in her crate, will be happy to realize that she, too, gets a turn. I am taking at least two, long walks under this low, gray sky. Then, zipp zipp zipp... that quilt is coming together! Ah. Thank you.
xoxoLC
1 comment:
It should be a law that all babies come fully loved. How can it not be so?
Wishing for the new little one a life full of love and laughter. That and a handmade quilt ... doesn't get much better than that!
Post a Comment