617 and Dashes

617.

Don't put up my Thread and Needle --

I'll begin to Sew

When the Birds begin to whistle --

Better Stitches -- so --

These were bent -- my sight got crooked --

When my mind -- is plain

I'll do seams -- a Queen's endeavor

Would not blush to own --

Hems -- too fine for Lady's tracing

To the sightless Knot --

Tucks -- of dainty interspersion --

Like a dotted Dot --

Leave my Needle in the furrow --

Where I put it down --

I can make the zigzag stitches

Straight -- when I am strong --

Till then -- dreaming I am sewing

Fetch the seam I missed --

Closer -- so I -- at my sleeping --

Still surmise I stitch --

Emily Dickinson

Dashes—
In honor of Emily Dickenson—who knew their value

Dashes are powerful—

Not trifling.

Meaning extended beyond words—

A continuance of thought—

Only compare

Happiness.

with

Happiness—

One is complete with boundaries…concise ending… limitations

The other begins, grows in mind, and continues ad infinitum

changing, revolving.

Living.

Dashes are masterful—

Not amateur.

Must be precisely placed—

A sculptor chiseling a face—

Daring to take plunges into unknown…inhale excitement…search

Emotions too gossamer for words

too fathomless for

Words.

----Anne C. Bryan

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Too Cute!

I met my cousin Jaylin over Christmas break. What a sweetheart!

I think of her everyday, and miss her adorable smile.

A Daily Journey

This morning I realized something.


I love going to school.


Not in the usual sense of the expression, but in the literal sense. Often I drag my feet, rather dreading the destination, but I never dislike the process of getting there. Winding and twisting on the back road makes for a delightful drive. When my sibs and I were small, we called it the Pretty Way, always begging mom "please take the Pretty Way home."


The drive is glorious in every season, at any time of day or night. My favorite is probably Autumn. And dusk, when the moon is full, makes the drive indescribable. This morning, though, was particularly splendid! It's magic can scarcely be captured in words, but I feel it deserves an attempt on my part, however humble, to record its charm.

I stepped outside at 7:30. The cold penetrated through my gloves, coat, scarf, sweater, and shirt, making me chill despite all efforts to the contrary. The grass was frosted over, and crunched as I walked across the lawn. It took nearly seven minutes to remove the frost-art off the windows and mirrors. I love the way the ice starts to curl as it is scraped.

When I was finally ready to leave, I encountered an immediate obstacle: the numerous pot holes, mud patches, and ice chunks between myself and the main road. It is a sort of game to avoid the rougher spots, and to remain at a speed sleepy enough to not offend certain neighbors' sensibilities.

The next section of the drive is probably the least interesting. Houses, yards, dogs, horses, fences, all of which I have seen a million times. But this familiarity makes it rather dear. There's the house where we picked up the kittens Davie and Dora.........Our former babysitter's sister got married and moved into that house.........a voice teacher lives there........ah, a certain arrogant young man lives there, and is annoyed that the noise of our roosters carries so far (malicious chuckle). Anyway, those are the small-town thoughts I would think, if I happened to think about these particular surroundings at all.


Then I reach Four Corners, pause a moment, then continue into something more sublime. Birches line both sides of the road. Every time I reach this part, I feel, if only for an instant, transported into the world of L. M. Montgomery. Roads and Cars disappear, and I am meandering along, book in hand, with a full skirt and Gibson-Girl hair.

Ah, well, reality overcomes me, and the car is still moving forward. There is a slight ascent, and I pass the driveway that leads to the House of Tragedy, then down the hill and over the railroad tracks. To the right, just for an instant, I catch a glimpse of the freeway bridge, parallel to my road for only a short way. I see cars and trucks........ almost frightening in their fast-paced uniformity.

I continue my own ramblings, delighting in the ever-changing direction, of this less taken path. The next bend travels up and around a steep hill. The area is thickly furnished with evergreens, and one one side, there is a drop off edge (always an abhorrence of mine). Once my car stopped working on the way up this particular hill. Fortunately, my guardian angel must have given the car a nice push, for it got over the top to a place where I could safely park.

At the bottom of the hill is an ugly grayish brick fence with a gate. Inside the gate, an alert Daisy scrutinizes the cars that pass. I don't really know if the dog's name is Daisy, but she looks like a Daisy I used to know, so that is what I call her. She has only chased my car three times. Mostly she just stands and grumbles.

Then I pass a sort of meadow. It has some shrubs, and a couple tree stumps. This morning, everything was covered in frost, and looked like an enchanted kingdom under a spell. A misty curtain hangs over the meadow in the mornings and evenings, and adds a proper touch of mystery.

The next part of the road is a very long descent, curving several times to the right and left. It is entertaining to see how far I can get without having to use any gas. Just for one moment, at the beginning of the descent, I can see the tiny town, the open lands further off, and the mountains even further in the distance. This view was beautiful this morning, when the sun was making the peaks glow orange, but the shadows remained purple. It is best at night, though, when the lights of the town contrast starkly with the surrounding wilderness.

Next I pass three horses by a fence. These three, tan, brown, and black, are nearly always there, with their head leaning over the fence, and their mouths moving as if in conversation. I usually laugh when I see them, and imagine the gossip they are joyfully dissecting.

Finally, the Grand Finale: I turn on to another road to the right, climb yet another ice-paved hill, turn a corner, and gasp with delight. Rising, straight ahead, is the Mountain in full splendor. Dressed seamlessly in white, its massive beauty is more awe-inspiring in real life than anything I could possibly conjure up in imagination.

I think the mornings and evenings I spend driving this road are some of my favorite times. The world seems so quiet and still, and I can be alone with my thoughts. Not alone in my thoughts of course, for I ponder over occurrences of the week, and think of many people and places. However, it also the quiet time that is so necessary to rejuvenate the spirit.

I shall miss these daily journeys.

Cousins

Thirteen Goldman cousins, smiling, and somewhat still!

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The cousin relationship is such a unique blend of sibling/friend

Growing up would have been such a different experience without my cousins. Now I am watching the little ones grow up.

I love them all so much, and have an abundance of cousin memories:

Playing numerous games of our own invention (wedding tag...)

Dress up

Creative tea parties

making movies and putting on shows

Our personal fairytale "Kaydance and the Pea"

Our one and only circus performance!

Playing Phase Ten hours upon end (switching Grandma's cards when she wasn't looking, then laughing and confessing when she kept talking about what a bad hand she had)

Playing hot lava, and don't step on the lines, nearly every time we were dragged to the mall.

collecting all flower petals on the ground at Great-Grandma's house, and turing them into magic potions and beautiful designs.

Playing on the Eureka beaches, and getting soaking wet despite the frigid temperature of the air, the threatening presence of rip tide.

Building tents wherever we were (and If Geo wasn't there, we were actually allowed to keep them up and sleep in them).

Going to the Jellybelly factory, and Marine world.

Numerous Disneyland adventures

(like when my mom wouldn't tell us where we were going, then admitted we were on our way to the Disney Store. When she drove past the mall without stopping, we triumphantly accused her of tellin a lie. Several hours later we arrived at Disneyland. Mom wasn't dishonest after all.)

Getting sick together so many times--one person threw up--the others were close behind!

Keeping Dream Logs (these were so fantastical--it would be frightening to have them analyzed!)

Sending letters written on anything available--and rolled up and mailed in paper towel rolls.

Baby twin cousins...Malachy and Hudson...wearing santa hats.

Maddelyn and Kaydance making up weird chants, and repeating them 'til the rest of us felt compelled to gag them.

The anguish of the Christmas tree being stolen, with all our carefully hand-made ornaments, and the exhilarting joy of finding it, via clues, in full glory.

Turning the woodshed into a resturant, and making prize-winning mud pies (the younger cousins even tasted them occasionally :)

Bed time in Eureka, with young cousins sitting enthralled while Anne and Alexis told bizarre stories that had one, previously given suggestion, from each listener.

Aunt Teriasa giving us giant pickles

Teasing Matthew about being an All Star (oh, Matthew)

Burying bottles, with messages, in the backyard

Reading books together

New Year's Eve Parties
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaylin, the newest cousin

Chari's Children

Teraisa's Children

Jennifer's Children

The boys :)

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While ordinary cousins can be wonderful, nothing can compare to the friendship that comes from being twin cousins. Our group boasts several.

Kaydance & Maddelyn


Venice & Sarah

Malachy and Hudson

Anne and Alexis

Night and Day

Honey and Trixie

etc.

Winter Wonderland?

I hardly think so. It has been so sunny and dry, and the snow has mostly melted. We had a few decent storms before Christmas, which coated the world in a proper winter fashion, but have had no action since then. It almost seems eerie, this dry spell, especially after last year. This time last year was intense.....and the snow seemed to last forever. I was occasionally concerned for our survival. Looking back, however, I can only marvel. It was intense, but it was amazing at the same time. So here are a few pictures that highlight the experience.

I must brag--we get the most beautiful icicles in the world!

Getting out the back door of our house was a slight challenge

Matthew shoveled a path, but we were all terrified he

would be crushed by an avalanche off our roof

Strider with a snow dusting!

The most effective way of rearranging the mess

All six of us enjoying the tractor's incredible feat

My poor little brothers gazed longingly at the hoop for months!

A snow wall makes for a boring view from the kitchen :)

The main public road to our house---though it rather looks like it leads to some far corner of Narnia

Ah, the little blue house, with the big white yard!




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