(no subject)
Okay, thoughts are trickling out now. I keep thinking of them as rain. I'm imaging them falling out with little moist pit pats and splashing on leaves. I have the strangest ideas sometimes.
Yesterday I was looking at my old papers and I came across these newsletters my Mom did around 1992 for the local homeschooling/organic food/things of the nature community. The thing that struck me about it was the sense of optimism, activism, and the love of us, the children. My Mom and her friends were so interested in how they could make a new world for us and question the way things were done, to allow us to live in a way that was free. I guess I have been pondering childhood a lot since it ended fairly recently. And it is over, no question about it, although I am the same person and I can't say I've grown up.
Lord of the Rings has made me wistful, too. I keep talking about capes, but it's not REALLY the capes I miss. It's just the whole world, the fantasy. I miss running through our trails at night with Arwen (yeah, that is her real name). Now I only see her once a year and we don't have much to talk about. We ran around at night a few times. Our eyes adjusted easily to the night and it was surprising how much we could see. Everything was moist and quiet and full of magic. The fall air was crisp. We wore long skirts and white cotton blouses and pretended we were wizards and elves. We howled at the moon because they did it in Elfquest and we giggled, wondering what the Careys thought, the only neighbors that could hear. I had my perfect stick that was a magic staff, I'd found it in the woods near a playground at the park. When it wasn't in use, I kept it in my closet. It was half my height, straight, and shaped like a "Y", although a very long "Y" with a very short top. It felt very good in my hand and I felt like I could really do something with it if I only knew how. I thought I could fly, if I only knew how.
Yesterday I was looking at my old papers and I came across these newsletters my Mom did around 1992 for the local homeschooling/organic food/things of the nature community. The thing that struck me about it was the sense of optimism, activism, and the love of us, the children. My Mom and her friends were so interested in how they could make a new world for us and question the way things were done, to allow us to live in a way that was free. I guess I have been pondering childhood a lot since it ended fairly recently. And it is over, no question about it, although I am the same person and I can't say I've grown up.
Lord of the Rings has made me wistful, too. I keep talking about capes, but it's not REALLY the capes I miss. It's just the whole world, the fantasy. I miss running through our trails at night with Arwen (yeah, that is her real name). Now I only see her once a year and we don't have much to talk about. We ran around at night a few times. Our eyes adjusted easily to the night and it was surprising how much we could see. Everything was moist and quiet and full of magic. The fall air was crisp. We wore long skirts and white cotton blouses and pretended we were wizards and elves. We howled at the moon because they did it in Elfquest and we giggled, wondering what the Careys thought, the only neighbors that could hear. I had my perfect stick that was a magic staff, I'd found it in the woods near a playground at the park. When it wasn't in use, I kept it in my closet. It was half my height, straight, and shaped like a "Y", although a very long "Y" with a very short top. It felt very good in my hand and I felt like I could really do something with it if I only knew how. I thought I could fly, if I only knew how.