a peek inside the fishbowl

I was walking home on my way from a community association meeting last night when I realized that many of my neighbors had already put their Christmas trees out by the curb.

I suddenly remembered my idea from last year. It was time.

I got the car, drove around the block, and slowwwwly pulled up beside one of those curbside trees. Here’s where I admit I felt a little sneaky and scared. Good lord, is this even legal? I was worried that someone would see me and have a fit. I was practically rehearsing what I was going to say, and debating whether this was going to make me the neighborhood The Crazy Christmas Tree Lady.

With a hoist and a shove I stuffed the tree into the trunk, needles clicking and falling like rain from the sky, and drove the thing home … marginally worried that it was going to fall out of the car and I’d have no choice but to shove it back in again, risking discovery by all and sundry. When I got it home I pulled it from the trunk (cue second massive needle drop) and stuck the thing into the snow on our front lawn.

Then I decided that the car was too loud, this was an exercise better undertaken in the quiet of the night, by just me, walking.

And so I walked to three other homes, picked up three other trees, dragged each one home, and stuck them all into the snow. Oh my, was it a lot of work. What I really needed was a pickup truck.

I am sore. Who needs the gym when you can drag trees around your neighborhood?

This morning the girls woke up to see a small forest of five new evergreens on our lawn. They really liked it, especially Sarah. She was the first one to notice.

“MAMMA, there are TREES on our LAWN!!”

I know five trees doesn’t exactly make a forest (that was my goal, but that’s all I had the energy to do!), but it’s easy to imagine it could be.

[ETA: so you get the idea, right?] :)

Remember when I fastened a poem to the back of our front door? It’s part of my goal to keep poetry in our hearts and minds.

Well, Emma requested a new poem for the door and I’ve printed one out. It’s posted below.

Say it loud with your kids, then whisper it softly. Read it dramatically. Read it like a robot. Imagine the pictures in your head. Ask your kids: What seasons are we talking about? What does a sparrow, a dove, a linnet and a thrush look like? Do they live where we live? Why are the birds quiet in the winter and loud in the spring? What does the poem make you feel? How do you feel in winter or in the spring? What question was being answered? ETA: Most importantly, don’t drill it into them. This is only something beautiful to be admired and absorbed …  like a piece of art, a pretty flower or a tall tree.

–

Answer To A Child’s Question
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove,
The Linnet and Thrush say, I love and I love!
In the winter they’re silent — the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don’t know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving — all come back together.
But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he —
I love my Love, and my Love loves me!

It’s a new year, and I’ve decided to approach this whole resolution thing a little differently. So much of what I’m reading in the blogosphere is rooted in self-loathing: “I hate my body and I need to lose 20 lbs!” but I am coming at this from a different angle. LOVE. I am going to spend two weeks reintroducing some healthy habits that I know work for me. (Two weeks! YES, that’s it. Two weeks. BABY STEPS PEOPLE.)

I have decided to focus on my guts because I love them, and if ya ain’t got good guts, you ain’t got much.

And here they are (eek!), well, at least the exterior shot:

(WARNING WARNING, this is dangerously close to being WTMI (Way Too Much Information):

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