Category Archives: children

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Every day

Every day
I am thankful for clean water
water to drink
water to wash
I am blessed
by clean water

Every day
I am thankful for food
Good food
to cook
to eat
to share
I am blessed
by good food

Every day
I am thankful that I can stand
that I can walk
that I can carry things
up and down stairs
I am blessed
that I can stand

Every day
I am thankful that I can hear
voices of friends
voices of my family
all the music
my cat and birds
I am blessed
that I can hear

Every day
I am thankful that I can see
all the faces
all the smiles
the trees, the ocean, the birds
the ever changing sky
I am blessed
that I can see

Every day
I am thankful that I can touch
my cat purring
a vegetable for lunch
clothes and doors
friends to hug
I am blessed
that I can touch

Every day
I think of those
who cannot touch
who cannot see
who cannot hear
who cannot walk
who do not have food
who have no clean water
and some of them
are children

Every day
I am thankful
and grieving
at the same time

And I try to do a little
it’s not enough
yet

Some day I will be gone
or we will all have done enough

And every day I am still

thankful

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: warning.

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Tool

I don’t wear livery at work
and anyhow that’s a uniform for men
or a place to board horses
though the horses can be male or female.
Once I go to my daughter’s second grade
for a bring your parent day
and bring part of my uniform,
or perhaps it is a tool or instrument,
my stethoscope. The children all want
to listen to my heart
or at least touch this magical tool.
Afterwards I receive thank you notes.
I think that every one, except my daughter’s
thanks me for bringing the stethoscope
to their classroom. I did not know how
special and magical a tool can be.

__________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: livery.

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Low fog

I took this on New Year’s Eve on a walk with my kids and old friends in Maryland. We fooled around in a park. I like the low fog hanging in the trees, always further away when we walked to it.

Seesaw, Margery Daw, Jackie shall have a new master
He shall have but a penny a day, because he can’t work any faster.

That is the version of an old nursery rhyme that I learned from my mother. There is more about it here.

I am going through and starting to delete old blog posts and photographs to make room for the new ones. Not one of my stronger talents!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: seesaw.

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Take off

Our family of four is visiting the Hoh Rain Forest. I think my husband is a relatively normal person and that he and my daughter are just being silly.

Suddenly they morph into dinosaurs! Pterodactyls! Ferocious long toothed beaks and weird speckled feathers! My son looks at me and gives me a hug. “Thanks, mom.” He morphs too and they are in flight, off in to the rain forest!

They weren’t being silly. They were practicing and apparently my daughter has now learned to fly.

I still miss them terribly and hope that they are well. Be careful, and do not marry a pterodactyl.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: fiction.

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Favorites

Let’s see: I am going with two favorite writers.

My favorite female author is Laura Ingalls Wilder. My favorite male author is Walt Kelly.

Louis Carreas wrote about how descriptions can be cages, here. WordPress won’t let me comment on his blog (Hi, Lou!), saying that I have to be logged in. Even when I AM logged in. Ah well, maybe the AI has a sense of humor and is messing with me. Anyhow, his comments make me think of the DSM V, the list of behavioral health symptoms defining them into disorders, fifth version. We humans make them up, these lists. My daughter pointed out years ago, “We make up all the words.” It’s all an effort to communicate and we make it all up.

Walt Kelly is my favorite master of playing with words and word silliness. One time Howland Owl and Churchy are trying to make a bomb. They need a certain material. They have a small yew tree and a geranium. They both fall over and CROSS! Owl and Churchy dive for the floor. There is no explosion. Howland Owl says, “The natural born reason we didn’t git no yew-ranium when we crosses the li’l yew tree and the gee-ranium is on account of cause we didn’t have no geiger counter.” They decide against an A-bomb and put a honey bee hive in a shoebox, making a quite effective B-bomb.

Laura Ingalls Wilder starts the book about her youngest years explaining that she tries to be good but she just can’t be as good as her sister Mary. There are ways they are supposed to behave and she fights with her sister and misbehaves on Sunday and runs around. They are also not supposed to talk about certain feelings, but the feelings show through the events. When I read the books to my son and daughter, I found myself a bit appalled and editing the bits about the blackface minstrel show that they do and about Laura’s Ma talking about “dirty Indians”. Mrs. Wilder edited her life quite severely for those books, but I too chafed under the cage of society’s rules and what feeling I was and was not allowed to express.

Now there are series based on Laura’s mother, grandmother and great grandmother. I like them though the feelings aren’t as authentic to me. Not quite. My daughter loved the books about Laura’s mother and I think is like her. My daughter objects to Anne’s behavior in the first book of the Anne of Green Gables series. “No one is like that!” she says. I mention a classmates name, who is very very extroverted. “Hmmm,” says my daughter, “Ok, she is like that.”

The photograph is from 1965. My maternal grandmother, me and my sister. I do not know who took it.

And a favorite carol:

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: favorite writer.

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You can have some of the things some of the time

My father’s name is Malcolm Kenyon Ottaway. He went by Mac. He died in 2013. I miss him and I still follow Mac’s Rule.

Mac’s Rule is simple: You can get one third of the things that you think you can get done in a day.

I played with this on my days off for quite a while. I would write a list of all the things I wanted or needed to get done. Once I write the full list, it looks silly. Soon it is clear that he is correct.

When I am working full time in Family Medicine and have a five year old and a new baby, I think about getting something done on the weekend. Clear my desk, organize photographs, that sort of thing. After a while I realize that the weekend was more like this: Meals. Get kids clean and dressed. Laundry for the next week. Clean the house a bit. Do some fun family things! Read to kids and put them to bed! My list changed and instead of the ambitious “organize photographs”, I would think of something very small. Perhaps take one roll of developed photographs, pick some of the duplicates, send them to the grandparents. That was it for the entire weekend.

If I apply Mac’s Rule to my life and list all the things I want to do, which third will I pick? For years I write lists for a day off and then pick the top third that I want to get done. If something is added to the list, a friend calls to go to coffee, I take something else off. I make sure that the list always has something that I need to do on it (and often don’t want to: start taxes, pay bills, clean a bathroom, whatever). And something fun.

I don’t try to do it all. It’s very satisfying to get that 1/3 done on the list. And I feel like superwoman if I get an extra thing done! I get to choose which third to do and think about it. And the stuff that I don’t want to do slowly gets done over time. It isn’t that awful to do one of those duty jobs, thank you letters, tax information, dental appointment, mammogram, every day and then it gets DONE.

I am working with someone who puts RUSH at the start of every single email subject line. I have to say that it makes me want to dig my feet in and not even read the email. What kind of rash haste are they working under and why would I pay any attention to the RUSH by the ninth email? It is annoying and ludicrous. I move those emails to the next day list and don’t read them on the day of arrival. No pressure, so there.

Blessings on my father, for Mac’s Rule.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: rash.

The photograph had to be taken before May 2000, because my mother died on May 15 and she is on the boat. I don’t know who took it, another group sailing. Both my kids are there, my father with the tiller, and I am tucked behind the friend facing the camera. Why haven’t we pulled the motor up? This is Sun Tui, the boat currently in my driveway on a trailer.

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Ages

Here is my daughter on the lap of her great grandmother Evelyn Ottaway. I think my daughter was a little over one and my grandmother was 90 or very close. We flew from Colorado and visited friends and family. My grandmother was living with my aunt Pat right then. My daughter was very relieved when we got home, but she let many people that she didn’t know hold her. This was the only time she saw her great grandmother.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: age.

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Instrument tetris

Both of my children play violin and I play flute and then my daughter starts viola in ninth grade and you start with a small one. We had multiple cases that were falling hazards and tripping hazards. What to do with them?

Our solution years ago: my daughter and I take a violin in its’ case to the Antique Company in Hadlock. The owners import furniture from England. We walk around and try fitting the violin case in to the tall cases until we find the right one. Hooray! The violins and small violas and flutes and quena and ocarinas and dulcimer are contained! And now my office medical books that I kept reside on the lowest shelf and I still pull them out.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt yesterday: tetris.

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Birth

I am born today anew. Why does birth feel like a rejection, like a spitting out from the shelter of a womb, a body, a mother, a community, a job? I gasp in the new unfamiliar air, unsure how to use my lungs in this place. This labor was not terrible, not as hard as ones in the past. The air and light are shocking, I open my eyes, what is this place? Too bright, I close them. Hands have me and then I am back with my mother. Not inside but against her skin. The lights are down and I open my eyes. It was dark, dark, dark in that womb, so I open my eyes wide, to take in all the new information. I am shocked and afraid, but my mother’s heartbeat reassures me. I hope I won’t be eaten. What is this place? And now I am hungry and I start to search, not sure how to do it, search for food.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: birthday.

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Peace and strudel!

After the Tweetle Beetles battle with their paddles in a puddle in a bottle on a noodle eating poodle, peace declared, they eat oodles of flapdoodles and noodles and share it with their poodle, who brings raddled strudel. Paddles down, Tweetle Beetles peace the poodle with flapdoodles and sing “Praise for peace and strudel!”

Wrong Dr. Seuss book: the Tweetle Beetles are in Fox in Socks. But this book is in my Little Free Library today, hooray!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: flapdoodle!