Pine Needles

Every night
The cat asks to be let in
So annoying

Our Christmas trees
Dry out
The cat drinks the tree water

My knees are scarred
Both knees
The cat gets in the way
On the stairs
When packages hide my view

The new couch
Is shredded in one spot
The cat refuses to use a post

My niece has a scar
On her left thigh
The cat didn’t want her
In his room

I pray every night
To hear his incessant begging meows
For brown tree needles
For more stair trips
To see sofa foam
To give him that room

I miss my cat and wish he’d come home

If I could go back to me a week ago
I’d whisper in my ear
This is the sweetness of life
These little annoyances

The turtle waves

I’m surrounded by Nora Roberts books in Maui. Not my thing really.

My son is exhausted. Sleeping the sleep of a 5 year old who just had a giant (bigger than him) sea turtle come up and wave at him. We got it on film. My had shaking as I thought for a moment, um, Is this okay?
You see, I’m from Georgia originally and I was schooled at a young age about snapping turtles.
Old myths die hard.

I watch him sleep. Sand stuck to the side of his head. In ever crevice really. Slowly defenestrating from his body to the bad jungle print comforter below. We won’t appreciate that later tonight.
I scour the bookshelf for something other than Nora. I brought tons of books with me. Sadly, the are all cerebral. Brain books. Learning books. I’m seeking trash.


something like Heinlein or Belknap Long.

Instead, I find a well worn book.  No cover.  Just a few words per page.

So often, that which we are

is sacrificed

to that

which we wish


to be.

(I think written by Jovanovich)

Nice.  A book in Maui that doesn’t have a women with a ripped bodice on the cover… and yet the sentiment, the writing, holds exactly that same image.

Love it here.

Circle time

I suppose every action we take is one of two things: a tradition or a moment.

I sat in circle time this morning. For the last time. Sebastian is graduating from preschool today at 6pm. Silverspot has been home to us for almost 3 years.

One of the mom’s looked at me during the circle time. A look. I started sobbing. Calvin, 3, leaned against me and just cuddled me. Moms across the room nodded and held my gaze.  Sebastian sat on my lap holding my hands really tight.

Sebastian. Well, that was interesting. From the moment he was born he has not really ‘needed’ me. When we go into a new environment, he has always just said, “bye mom.”

Today. He wouldn’t let me leave. “Momma Play.” So I played. “Momma, circle time.” So I circled timed. He cried and clung to me in ways he has never done. Talking to me in a baby talk he hasn’t used since he began talking in sentences. Which was about 3 days after he learned to say “dah-dah” and roar like a lion.

I guess the time just passed by like a Brisbane night wind. We had all this tradition. Making lunch, walking down the hill, the cubbies, the art.. all this… tradition.

We are both a little unnerved I think. Regressing back to the time he was a baby. He sat on my lap and leaned back and asked me to hold him like a baby. I teared up.  He spoke in one-word sentences.  I cooed.  He wouldn’t let me leave.

Then he went to sit on the couch and read a book by himself. He wouldn’t say goodbye. Wouldn’t look at me. Just read a book.

I walked away. Mom’s grabbing me on the hand as I walked out. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I wonder why it is always at the end of things that we realize the true impact of them. When we are in it, the clock gets in our way, we hurry.. we rush… we blur.

I arrived home unable to work today. So, I moved a bookcase, packed up for our graduation trip and, well, cried a lot.

I painted IN IT behind the bookcase before I screwed it to the wall.

I’ll miss that preschool.   I’m excited to find Sebastian’s favorite toy mouse behind the bookcase.. missing for the last two years.    Along with a Lego head and the picture of some intestines.  Oh the pieces of our life that get lost in the nooks and crannies.

I’m a lucky girl.  Sad today, a bit snotty, and lucky.