Remembering Real

I’ve often imagined my brain as a merry-go-round of colorful carousel horses swirling to the music. Just as the merry-go-round stops to let people off and on, my brain stops, tiny doors pop open and snippets, will-o’-the-wisps, flibbertigibbets of memory, fact, song pop out.

This past weekend my memory merry-go-round wasn’t slowly turning; it was spinning with snippets flying. One wisp of a scientific notion of how none of us is actually solid, that instead we are constantly swapping molecules with every sight, smell, thing, person—everything and then forming and reforming from these molecules, came to mind. You know the way odor molecules break off, float into our noses, hit our receptors and so we smell. I’m thinking the same thing happens with memories.

Why now? It was a reunion weekend. Along with our 2 kids and their sweeties, Curtis and I were in California for a wedding and impromptu family reunion. The wedding was that of my grandparent’s cross-the-street-neighbor’s son, Chris—our son, Max’s, lifetime best “Summers and Christmas Vacations friend.”

The reunion, organized by my first cousin, once removed, Jodi, was an impromptu gathering of family members prompted by our wedding attendance. (Jodi’s mother, Evelyn, and my Grandmother, Nellie, were sisters—for specifics on the once-removed/twice-removed/first cousin/second cuz connections click here!

When you live busy lives far apart, it’s easy to forget the importance of extended family. And the longer you’re apart, the easier it is to make excuses not to spend the money or time to connect. I’ve spent almost 20 years—ever since my grandmother died, and we packed up her belongings and sold her house—making excuses. Aside from my immediate family—mom, the kids, my husband—the last time I’d seen any of my extended family had been at our last family reunion a well-organized weekend affair, 4 years ago. And before that had been 19 years ago, the summer after my grandmother died, when Max, Lexi, Grandma Mary and I took Curtis to meet the family…

Those cousins’ once-removed know the “back when" us. Back when we were tiny, naughty, silly, sweet, and more than once “cried til we were blue in the face.” The relatives who actually knew the “rotten, just plain rotten” cousin, Corky, mom named our dog after.  That those “Summers and Christmas Vacation friends” are the ones son Max buried and unburied the rotten mole with, and know the Lexi who always wore hair bows and refused to wear pants. Those second cousins are the ones we snuck cookies and shot bb guns with, who remember how our aunties and grandmothers “laughed til they peed their pants,” how Uncle Jimmy drove mom to the hospital the day I was born—that knew the glamorous teen mom was, the “cool cousin” who gave them lipstick samples and taught them to kiss the mirror. Cousins who also still have the taste of Great Grandma’s sugary milky “starter coffee,” and splinter scars from her back fence and flat patches on our knees from hours of kneeling at church as well as at the window in the back room from hours spent peeping through a crack in the blinds to spy on the neighbor kids and their “wild friends”…

Those years of swapped molecules and shared memories are the stuff of families. Family who remind us who we were, where we came from, and why we look, act, laugh the way we do now—families who pretend not to notice, and definitely don’t care, that we’re looking worse for wear (or maybe love us better because we are?)

Family make us real; family keeps us real—the real as defined by Margery Winifred Williams' Skin Horse in the Velveteen Rabbit (originally published in 1922):

“Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."-excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Winifred Williams, originally published in 1922.

(Thank you Erin Stead for referencing The Velveteen Rabbit in your Caldecott Award Acceptance Speech. Read more:

Year Of Inspirational Thinking

It's a new dawn/Its a new day/It's a new life...

That line from the "Feeling Good Song" as sung by Michael Buble- his name makes me laugh-is playing in my head. Adding to that: It's a new blog year for me! I'm going to take this opportunity to change my blog. Not to say I won't post anymore Jakarta stories or book news, but that's no longer my primary focus. My intention is to declare a YEAR OF INSPIRATIONAL THINKING!

Each week I will post quotes, stories, poems, words that inspire thoughts, ideas, emotion, interaction and maybe change.  (Warning: I am not going to spare the exclamation points)

The Year of Inspiration Thinking begins now with this quote from Antonia Fraser,  author of Must You Go? My Life with Harold Pinter, among others:

"I love hearing details of writers' craft, as cannibals eat the brains of clever men to get cleverer."

The Most Wonderful Present!

"Some one gave me a wonderful present/something I needed and yet never knew/so start the whistling and clapping cause under the wrapping was you!!!!!" --from the Jermome Lawrence Musical, Mame, based on the book "Auntie Mame" by Patrick Dennis

Twenty eight years ago today, July 28, 1983, at 12:35 pm in the afternoon, I received that most wonderful present:  Alexis Rose. Today we celebrate her!

And what better way to celebrate that with a memory...just one, I promise. And since this is what Lexi calls her "golden birthday" since she is turning 28 on the 28th, a "golden" combination, I'll share a memory that's pure gold:

"Rosie" as we called Alexis (because she was rosie pink and joyful), was not much of a talker. On her 2nd Christmas, Grandma Mary gave Lexi a Madame Alexander doll with brown hair and eyes that looked "just like her."  As 2 year olds faced with a mound of colorful wrapped gifts do, Lexi  unwrapped the doll and tossed her aside to reach for another gift. The doll let out a "Whaaaaah!" Lexi looked down, scooped up the doll and that was it. From then on Whiney Baby  was Lexi's baby

People often ask writers what inspires a story.  No surprise that the inspiration for every scene in my newest picture book came from memories of Lexi as a baby and growing up. What is suprising, and amazing, and incredible is that without ever talking with me, or seeing a photo of Lexi, David Walker so beautifully captured the little her in the illustrations for this book.

Happy Birthday, Alexis Rose. No matter how big you get, or how smart you get, or how oooooold you get, you will always be my baby!

Independence Day

Happy 4th of July! Here in Jakarta it's already the day after. If it weren't for 2 zealous expats--one British and one from Panama--the day would have ended as it began, Just another Monday workday. As you might imagine the 4th of July isn't cause for celebration in Indonesia. But, August 17th is, and is celebrated much the same way as the 4th of July is celebrated back home: fireworks, games, picnics and parades. Americans wear and wave red-white-and blue; Indonesians wave and wear red and white. 4th of July commemorates the beginning of a war, as does August 17th. Americans fought for "Freedom", Indonesians call it "Merdeka", the cause is the same: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Celebrating holidays away from home is bittersweet. Distance makes it easy to forget...actually forget is not the right word. Distance makes it easy to ignore holidays--or try to ignore them. Maybe because it hurts a little to be away and missing out on the fun back home...

There weren't any fireworks or parades at last night's Fourth of July celebration. But there was red-white-and blue (everyone dug through their closets to pull out whatever patriotic clothing they had-a red batik shirt won the prize), there was laughter and chatter (in a variety of accents), there was music (in varying styles--we finally settled on country western as being the "most" American). Even with all that, it was the food that made the holiday. As my mother would call it "good, old fashioned American": hot dogs and burgers with buns, potato salad, cold slaw, beans and watermelon (Delsy, our Panamanian-American friend and hostess pulled me aside to ask "When do we serve the watermelon? With dinner or dessert?) Brownies and pie with ice cream-cherry, blueberry and apple, of course!  Each mouthful was a taste of home, a reminder of 4th of July's past, and promise for the future.

I woke this morning, with a feeling of having a foot in 2 time zones. It was 7 am. here in Jakarta--which is 7 pm central time. On the other side of the world, back home in the USA, Fourth of July celebrations are in full swing--sea to shining sea! I'm lamenting the extra servings I indulged in last night at the exact same moment that you might be dipping in for more. I'm putting away my red, white and blues while you're pulling yours on.

In spite of CNN news, I am also feeling hopeful. Our 4th of July celebration included 20 or so people of different races, genders, nationalities, religious and political beliefs. Festivities right now, today and tonight, include millions of people whose ancestors fought on opposite sides of battlefields with all the hatred, anger, hurt, and vengeance of the people battling today.

Happy Independence Day; Pray for Peace.

SAVE BOOKSTORES SUMMER

Saturday, June 25th,  was SAVE A BOOKSTORE DAY. Part of a movement to support local bookstores. I read about it on one of my favorite blogs Writing On The Sidewalk.

Agent Kelly Sonnack of Andrea Brown Literary Agency sent out the call to rally everyone in support of bookstores and books.

Why is a "buy a book" campaign needed? Because, as Kelly wrote in her letter promoting Save Bookstores Day, "Bookstores are dropping like flies and we want them to stay alive!"

I'm hoping Saturday every single one of you went out and bought a book. All those who did breathed a little life back into the bookstores. But it's going to take more than that to save them. So, let's give them more. Let's dub this, the summer of 2011:

Save Bookstores Summer!

DO YOUR BIT...BUY A BOOK

Wednesday, Work Day?

A writer friend of mine maintains an office in a strip center near her Texas home. She has a lovely home with no small children or other obvious distractions to keep her from writing. In my mind I could never justify the expense. Why pay for an office, have to get dressed and leave home to work,  when it is so much easier to sit in your comfy home in cozy jammies and write?

So far this week this week ( a designated "writing-only week") the ice maker  and 2 air conditioners have had unscheduled repairs, one rat caught, touch-up painters arrived brushes in hand, the Blue Air filters were serviced, the local duty free shop manager stopped by asking for advice on her brochure,  and Sani, the gal who helps our house keeper, Rusnati, had a scare with cancer in her breast (that, thankfully, turned out fine.)

--And it’s only Wednesday...

Anyone know of a nice office space for rent?

My Books in Cambodia!

Knowing my stories are being read and enjoyed is the highlight of my job. So, you can imagine my delight when Kelli Lambe sent me this photo. Kelli, her husband, Steve, and their 3  boys spent spring break in Cambodia, where they helped create and stock the library in a school outside of Seim Reap.

No, the books haven't been translated into Cambodia. The children sound out the stories while learning English.  What's especially cool is that often parents and other adults,  who are also learning English, sit  alongside the kids--laughing and learning with them. (I'll have to ask if Kelli taught them to two-step and how to say "y'all"  after reading Dance, Ya'll, Dance.)

Kelli wrote: "Cambodia was a wonderfully meaningful trip.  So much so that we are now going to Papua with Lex and Linda [Operators of Remote Destinations Tour Company] to help build a library there. Keegan is doing it for his IB community and service project."

You can be sure my books will be along on that trip, too. Spreading the joy of reading a few books at a time!

If you'd like to donate books or send a contribution for the Lambe's next  library project, send me a note and we'll make it happen.

Is PRODUCTIVITY all it’s cracked up to be?

Sometimes, in the midst of our get er done busy-ness our creativity can get shoved aside. Or, worse, instead of really letting go and allowing our imaginations run wild-and sometimes a muck-we don't push our ideas far enough. We settle for our first idea. First isn’t necessarily best.  Have you ever wondered what the last gal to cross the finish line was doing all that time? What the outfielder picking at the laces on his glove is thinking? I know Curtis was wondering where I’d gone with his coffee cup… I was thinking about the list of to dos on my lengthy get er done list when I took one of those turns. I always have a few projects around that need doing. Some, like filing papers, are waiting because I am avoiding them. Others, like the drawer of candle nubs and cluster of broken geegaws in need of gluing, are just waiting for the right day.

I was filling our coffee cups in preparation for the start of a truly productive get er done day when one of those “projects” sprang to mind. The egg cups glistening in the morning sun were just so empty.

Sometime after Easter, I’d wandered into a shop selling left-over candle eggs, you know the ones that look like Easter eggs and are adorable, but you always wonder what the heck you’ll do with them because they are small and wobbly and not really good for lighting. Well, these were different. They were egg colored with white shell on the outside and looked real. The shopkeeper had placed them in egg cups and lit them. Perhaps because of the way they had burned down, the top edge was jagged, the way real eggs are when you carefully crack open just the tops to make cascarones, confetti eggs. Which got me thinking: Say, I have a few egg cups hanging around…

So, I began collecting egg shells. Instead of cracking them in half and pouring out the middle, you gently tap the top to crack it, pick off the shell bits until you have a hole big enough to stick a toothpick in, stab the yolk, and gingerly shake out the egg and white. Wash the shell and set it out to dry. The trouble is, you can only do this on eggs which you don’t mind scrambling. And you have to use eggs. And you have to store these fragile shells somewhere safe. And don’t forget you are saving them, and which bowl you’re saving them in, or you might accidentally put another bowl inside that bowl and crunch....

Yes, it has taken me longer that expected to collect enough egg shells to make it worth my while to drag out those candle nubs. But here’s the thing, a friend, Jeff, happened to leave a Real Simple magazine at my house recently, and I happened to flip through it, and in the column on reusing stuff was a seedling planted in an egg shell. The blurb said when the seedlings were ready for planting in larger pots, or the garden, you could simply plant the egg shell incubator in the soil. The shell will soften, the plants roots will break through the shell, and the shell will nourish the soil.

After reading this, I was torn. The egg shell seedling in the picture was soooo cute. In my mind's eye I saw them sprouting in my egg cups on my sunny window sill. Still, those candle nubs, even if they did smell good, were ugly ugly ugly.

Sticking down the wick in the hardest part. Getting it to stay upright is the other hard part. I tie the wick to a skewer which keeps it upright and centered. 1st step, pour a little wax into the bottom of the shells, let it harden slightly and then, using the blunt end of a skewer, push the end of the wick into the soft wax (not too hard or the shell will crack). Let the wax harden all the way before pouring in more wax. And don’t fill the egg shells all at once or the hot wax will loosen the wick. Fill the shells in layers, letting each harden before adding more.

And guess what we’re eating for dinner? Scramble by egg cup light. (I have to get started collecting shells for future seedlings.)

What else can I make with egg shells? Any ideas? This isn't procrastinating, it's creating! Come on you left fielders…