Beginner's Heart

Beginner's Heart


day 18 of a month of Thanksgiving: bounty (& first-world problems…) ~

  I have too much stuff. I have too many books, too many teapots, and waaay too many tchotchkes. It is, most definitely, a first-world problem.

But I’m grateful for my first-world problems, like  clearing out my extra books. I remember helping a colleague — a South African teacher — pack books to take back to Botswana. Her students had none. NOT  ONE. I have hundreds…

Today I bought the dogs new collars. I had a coupon, which knocked $5 off the total. And I thought at the time: my dogs’ collars cost more than many people make in a day… Think about that.

As I clean and ready for the upcoming holiday feasting, I make space in the refrigerator. For bounty. Leftovers from the annual American eat-in. There will be at least 12 of us, possibly more. There will be turkey, and potatoes ((both white & sweet), and pie and cake and salads and relishes and hummus and turkey and more. And that’s just Thursday

Tomorrow — Monday — an old & dear couple of friends and their beautiful 3 daughters are coming to visit. I still have to make gingerbread, after a day spent cleaning a too-large house. And  decide between teapots (there are several…), and decide among teas… We have to finalise plans: should we walk the River Parks Pedestrian Bridge? Or go to the Rose Garden? Such happy ‘problems’ that I probably shouldn’t even share them!

So today? I’m grateful and give thanks for my first-world problems. Too many things I love, too little room to keep them. A garden refusing to go to sleep, even though it’s mid-November (roses & gold mums & scarlet pineapple sage, still!). A week ahead full to bursting w/ wonderful friends & family & food. And me in the middle of it all, well aware of my own good fortune…

 



Previous Posts

poetry, structure, and creative beginner's heart
Last night, discussing structure and writing with my elder son, I said I couldn't write w/ too much structure. That writing is -- for me -- a discovery process. Structure, I told him, can actually kill my ide

posted 3:03:47pm Apr. 16, 2014 | read full post »

what a difference a day makes (and other ways I wish I was like my grandson)
My grandson burnt his hands Sunday. Not horribly, but badly enough that he cried inconsolably for hours. Today? He's his usual sunny self: slapping the Cheerios on the highchair

posted 3:01:12pm Apr. 15, 2014 | read full post »

in the flash of a moment
My grandson hurt himself today. Not horribly, but bad enough that he's been crying for two+ hours. On a lovely spring day -- temps in the lower 70s -- he was on the deck w/ his folks, crawling happily around

posted 4:45:55pm Apr. 13, 2014 | read full post »

the poetry of every day
It's easy to forget that every day holds poetry. Especially if you're hectic: packing, moving, cleaning a new house, unpacking... Soothing a disolocated dog, holding a curious baby. Eating out of cartons while you locate the dishes and pans. All of this can make you forget the whole point of the

posted 2:46:45pm Apr. 12, 2014 | read full post »

what poetry gives us
Today's poem is actually a three-fer. I've been writing to prompts from NaPoWriMo, one of the national sites for National Poetry Writing Month. The poem today is written from yesterday's prompt, which asked wri

posted 6:30:22pm Apr. 09, 2014 | read full post »




Report as Inappropriate

You are reporting this content because it violates the Terms of Service.

All reported content is logged for investigation.