Tag: atozchallenge

A to Z Blogging Challenge · Faith

K is for Kindness

Sally8 Comments

Part of my morning quiet time includes a creed — to remind myself of those things I believe to be true. It started with the basic Apostles’ Creed, but has grown. One part that I added is this:

I believe that the trials in my life are ultimately God’s good for me. They are like the grains of sand in an oyster that God uses to produce pearls.

The world is an unkind place. It’s full of people who thumb their noses and stick out their tongues.

Yesterday, in the checkout at the grocery store, the young woman behind me, obviously upset by something that had happened, said to her companion, “I just want to punch her in the face.”

With violent words, we betray the frustrations in our hearts.

This past Sunday, I was especially frustrated by a situation I knew that my father would encounter, where he would be excluded and pushed aside. The mama-bear in me raised her hackles and lashed out with words — words I didn’t entirely regret but wish I had said with a little more kindness.

When I put together this collage, I wasn’t entirely sure what it was saying, but when looking for a “K” collage, I paused on it. Yes, I think I know now. It’s about right responses. It’s about kindness. So timely for me today.

The one boy is obviously the bully. He’s not nice. He’s not being nice.

The man is ready to rush in and give him a good smack.

But the other boy, he’s still extending the ping-pong paddle.

In kindness.

“Come and play,” he seems to be saying.

It’s Jesus. He constantly says, “There, there. I see. I know. Come unto me, you weary, heavy-laden, frustrated, overwhelmed child. I still love you. I still want to play ping-pong with you.”

And as I yield to Him, He adds another layer to the grit in my life, working to create a pearl.

Background from The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything by Linda Williams, illustrated by Megan Lloyd

Man from My Dad’s Job by Peter Glassman, illustrated by Timothy Bush

Ping-pong paddle boy from My Fun With Words by James Ertel, illustrated by Geoffrey Brittingham, Seymour Fleishman, Vernon McKissack

Bully from Wheels on the Bus (a Raffi Song to Read book) illustrated by Sylvie Kantorovitz Wickstrom

A to Z Blogging Challenge · family

J is for Journey

Sally8 Comments

“I ran away once and you didn’t even notice,” one of my children told me accusingly.

It brought back a flood of memories.

I ran away once. Slighted once too often by my siblings, unappreciated by my parents — I knew it was the only thing I could do. So I put a loaf of bread in my backpack, along with a flashlight, a jacket, and a pack of matches, and headed up the hill behind our house.

The first bit was steep and prickly with wild raspberry bushes. I huffed with exertion and didn’t stop to enjoy a single berry.

I hiked past the little spring-house that had been the source of water for the house before my parents dug a well.

Finally I reached a grassy knoll and sat down to rest.

I waited for someone to come looking for me. Surely someone would notice I was gone.

I waited, imagining the shock and the worry. My mother would ask each sibling, “Have you seen Sally?” and the worry would grow.

They would look all around the house and the barns. She’d probably make Peter or Jimmy climb into the hayloft to see if I was there.

But they wouldn’t find me.

The tall grass on the hill was perfect for putting between my thumbs and whistling — but I stopped myself. Someone would hear it. Then they would know where I was.

The grassy knoll, it turned out, was also an ant hill so I moved to a little mossy spot near a tree.

I pulled out my loaf of bread and ate a slice — not because I was hungry, but because I was bored. Plain bread is also boring, I discovered. I wished I had brought a jar of peanut butter. I put the bread away because I knew it would have to last me at least a week.

As I started to stretch out in the moss for a little rest, I nearly placed my hand in a pile of animal droppings. Abruptly I sat up again. Hugging my knees, I started to cry. Surely I was the most unloved child ever.

House with the garden behind it

But down the hill was my house.

And my family.

And my dog.

And our passel of cats.

I climbed to my feet and headed back.

My mother was working in the garden, picking beans or peas.

“I ran away,” I announced to her as I got closer, “and you didn’t even notice.”

She straightened up and looked at me. “You need to be gone more than 20 minutes if you want me to notice,” she said.

And she went back to work.

All that passed through my mind when my own child told me about running away.

I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t repeat my mother’s words.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Child with suitcase and backpack from Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah! by Allan Sherman and Lou Busch, illustrated by Jack E. Davis

Plants from a broken pop-up book

A to Z Blogging Challenge

I is for Insect

Sally5 Comments

If you’re here for a post about insects, sorry. This is more about creating and failing.

And yes, I know that a spider is an arachnid, but the bee is an insect, so I used it.

Last fall I went to a collage art workshop in Nashville taught by Wayne Brezinka. His artwork is stunningly beautiful and thought-provoking. I had been dabbling in my little cards and thought it might be interesting to see how such an acclaimed artist tackled collage.

First, we all had to introduce ourselves, telling why we were there. Immediately I was intimidated. The others in the class were artists, museum curators, people who were somebody. Mary and I sat on the far side of the circle. When it was our turn, it was another instance of I’m-with-her, as we both slouched in our folding chairs wishing we could disappear.

 

Wayne had planned several projects. First everyone made a picture of either a coffee cup or an apple. Some turned out gorgeous. Mine turned out odd at best.

After lunch, we spent most of the afternoon working on our own project. With you-don’t-belong-here you-don’t-belong-here throbbing through my mind, I stared at my canvas and wished I could leave. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that Mary was there, I may have made some excuse and headed for the door.

But I didn’t.

I made this, a piece I still don’t really like. A house is adrift on stormy seas.  A man in a row-boat is about to be swallowed by a wave or a fish or a giant snake. The Mr. Peanut sun doesn’t shed much light.

It’s probably reflective of how I was feeling. Overwhelmed. Sinking.

When I got home from Nashville, I wasn’t invigorated to do collage. I felt so inadequate.

I really enjoy making collages though, so, good or not, I continued.

Teddy Roosevelt said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”

’tis so true.

And Tim Gunn said, “Life is not a solo act. It’s a huge collaboration.”

My collages now bear a little influence from Wayne Brezinka. I had to realize that I will never make art like Wayne because I am not Wayne.

I’m just me, and what I do is mine.

This insect card bears his influence though.

Wayne uses a variety of materials in his collages — found items, sticks, rocks, as well as the obvious paper.  Our Christmas cyclamen was dropping its blossoms whole, so I pressed a few to see how they would dry. One appears on this card — a fragile white blossom for the spider to sit on.

Wayne adds physical depth to his work by layering and using cardboard to “pop” parts out. I popped the spider with a little cardboard behind.

I was frustrated that the child’s hand somehow got damaged, Mary said, “It’s okay. Nothing’s perfect.”

And she’s right. I kept the card because of Mary’s influence.

Now to unravel the rest of the (unwitting) collaborators — The background is from Ezra Jack Keats’ Over in the Meadow. The child is from The Silly Sheepdog by Heather Amery and Stephen Cartwright. The bee (and maybe the spider, but I’m not sure) is(are) from A Trip to the Yard, pictures by Marjorie Hartwell and Rachel Dixon.

 

A to Z Blogging Challenge · family

H is for Helping

Sally4 Comments

Laurel sat next to me on the couch last night when I started this post by writing the title and inserting the picture I planned to use.

“Are you going to write about me?” she asked. “I help.”

Indeed she does. Laurel is an outstanding sous chef. She is often with me in the kitchen at dinner time helping with meal prep. She scours the internet for healthy recipes and sometimes volunteers to make dinner, on which occasions I am her sous chef. I think that’s pretty remarkable for a 13-year-old.

Mary helps, too, in her own way. She empties the dishwasher, unasked and often unseen. She brings my father his nightly beer. She makes sure he has the baseball game or Wheel of Fortune on after dinner. She has fixed him lunch on days when I’m not available. My father will say, “Mary is solid,” which I think may be cringe-worthy words for a 17-year-old to hear, but by which he means that he can count on her, a high compliment.

And the truth is, all my kids are great helpers. They have acted as gardeners and landscapers around my parents’ property, mowing the lawn, weeding the myrtle, cleaning up sticks and debris. They have chauffeured, accompanied, and assisted, attending to their elderly grandparents in so many ways.

Lately, some of my adult children have been caregivers, staying with my father over weekends when I need to be away. It’s a huge help to me.

I’m quite sure they inherited the helping gene from their father. Bud is one of the hardest-working, most generous people I know.

So thank you to all my helpers. You know who you are. I see what you’re doing and I appreciate it.

This picture is very early in my whole cutting-up-books-to-make-cards adventure.

The tree is from Garth Williams’ beautiful book, The Rabbits’ Wedding, the book that started it all. I picked it up at a yard sale, a gorgeous oversized picture book that had sat in the rain. It was starting to mold and smell — but the illustrations were so beautiful that I couldn’t stand the thought of it going to the dump. So, blindly, I paid a ridiculous amount of money for a soggy moldy book — 50¢ — and brought it home not knowing what I would do with it.

The girl is from Sarah’s Unicorn by Bruce and Katherine Coville. The illustrations in the book were all black-and-white, so I watercolored her, as well as the background.

I don’t know where the bird and nest are from.

A to Z Blogging Challenge · prayer

G is for Giggle

Sally8 Comments

Here’s what I see in this collage: The rabbit is giggling because it sees the bigger picture. The man is so annoyed at the rabbit, probably because it had wreaked havoc his garden, that he is unaware of the wolf on his roof.

I can remember watching a bunny nibble all the pansy blossoms in my garden and I was helpless to do anything because I was nursing a baby. If I got up and shooed the rabbit away, I would have disturbed the baby. So I just watched as the rabbit hopped, lippity-lippity, from plant to plant, nibbling away my pretties.

Sometimes, though, we can be so distracted by the little problem that we miss a bigger one — like the wolf preparing to head down the chimney.

The bunny thinks it’s funny.

The man can’t get over his annoyance — and that makes him clueless.

Lord,
help me to keep little things in proper perspective
so that I can be aware of what’s most expedient.

Background from Mother Night by Denys Cazet

House and wolf from The Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf illustrated by Keiko Motoyama

Man in the window from A Boy Who Wants a Dinosaur by Hiawyn Oram and Satoshi Kitamura

Rabbit and bushes are from two different books, but I don’t remember which ones.

A to Z Blogging Challenge · family

F is for Family

Sally12 Comments

The background is from Mother Night by Denys Cazet.

The family is from Wheels on the Bus (a Raffi Song to Read book) illustrated by Sylvie Kantorovitz Wickstrom.

I love the way this picture turned out. The family is the point of light in a dark world.

The question is, are they coming or going? Are they refugees fleeing a greater darkness? Or are they arriving home after a long journey?

Whichever it is, I see them pausing to look at their house.

In statistics, an outlier is an observation point that is distant from other observations.

I don’t think of my little family as outliers, though. I think of them as looking at home.

 

A to Z Blogging Challenge

E is for Escape

Sally10 Comments

Jennifer Trafton Peterson, author of The Rise and Fall of Mount Majestic and her brand-new book, Henry and the Chalk Dragon, explained her writing process something like this — “I think of a picture that makes me laugh, something funny, and I write to it.”

When she read aloud a portion of Henry and the Chalk Dragon last fall at Hutchmoot, the annual gathering of Rabbit Room peeps, it was the funniest thing I had heard in a long time. Of course, I immediately pre-ordered the book.

It arrived the other day. Every time I see it — and I set it in a place I would see it often — it gives me impetus to finish the book I’m currently reading so I can dive headlong into Henry’s adventure. Yes, it was written for 3rd grade boys, but I can’t tell you about a time that I’ve been more excited to read a book.

Henry and the Chalk Dragon has absolutely nothing to do with my “E” collage, except that I used the Jennifer Trafton method of creating. I sat one day with a pile of pictures spread out before me and thought about which ones would be funny together.

One of the results was this one — a butterfly chasing a pig.

It made me think of Monty Python’s Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, when the knights were in denial of the danger, but it quickly turned to “Run away! Run away!”

My picture depicts a narrow escape from the Bloodcurdling Butterfly of Baoithein.

Fence and bunny from Catch Me, Catch Me! A Thomas the Tank Engine Story illustrated by Owain Bell

Fleeing pig from The Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf illustrated by Keiko Motoyama

Butterfly from — I’m so sorry, dear illustrator, I don’t remember!

A to Z Blogging Challenge

D is for Danger

Sally9 Comments

Rabbit from A Boy Who Wants a Dinosaur by Hiawyn Oram and Satoshi Kitamura
Train tracks from Catch Me, Catch Me! A Thomas the Tank Engine Story illustrated by Owain Bell
Lego guy from Lego City: Snow Chase — Scholastic Books
Extraneous bushes from ??

Ways to deal with danger (note — not all these are optimal):

  • See it. Recognize it.
  • Be immobilized by fear/horror.
  • Yell for help.
  • Be the help.

Things to do in the wake of tragedy (note — not all these are optimal):

  • Nothing.
  • Weep.
  • Clean up.
  • Prepare against further tragedy.
  • Push back with good.

Yesterday my Facebook news feed held horrific images from Syria.

I don’t do well with horrific images.

In fact, I turned off the television for years after seeing bodies floating in the Kigali River during the Rwandan genocide.

Mary was asking me about my memories of the Vietnam War era the other day. I told her that Time Magazine had images that I can’t erase from my mind.

I never watched Schindler’s List because I knew I couldn’t handle the violence of it. Someone told me that you get sort of used to seeing a Nazi pull out a gun and shoot someone in the head. I never want to get used to that.

At the same time, I don’t to be unaware, sticking my head in the sand. I read the news avidly.

I want to push back against the darkness in the world. How can I do that?

At the very least, I can champion for good with my words.

A to Z Blogging Challenge · Life

C is for Christmas

Sally20 Comments
That moment when you realize that there really is a Naughty/Nice list.

I fell in love with this little girl when I saw her, head in hands, sitting in the overstuffed chair. Who can’t relate to what she’s feeling?

One of my sons, when he was in the midst of a bad day, used to ask, “Why does everything bad happen to me?”

Some days just feel like that.

But, as Anne Shirley said, “Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”

We’re always sitting on the cusp of a new day.

The little girl is from The Terrible Thing That Happened at Our House by Marge Blaine and illustrated by John Wallner.

Santa — and I love the grim look on his face, like he’s thinking, This is the downside of my job, but I’ve got to do it — is from Sandra Boynton’s Christmastime! I have been a HUGE Sandra Boynton fan since I first picked up a “Don’t let the turkeys get you down” mug at Logos Bookstore on Marshall Street in Syracuse in, maybe, 1980. I think we still have it. Once, probably 20 years ago, we drove to Stamford, NY, where she had an exhibit at an art center. She autographed some board books for us, but mostly I wanted to meet her. When I found her book at the thrift store, I felt a little sad that someone abused and discarded it.  At the same time I was thrilled at the chance of giving it new life in scenes like the one above.

The flooring in the room is from Ox-Cart Man (illustrator – Barbara Cooney).

The wallpaper is some leftover origami paper.

A to Z Blogging Challenge

Zero

Sally7 Comments

I began at the end, with my mother’s dementia. Now I’ll end at the beginning of my mother’s life.

Actually, the pre-beginning.

The zero before the one-two-three.

That space the game token rests on before the first roll of the dice.

The Beforeward.

Whatever it’s called.

My grandmother gave the family a great gift when she wrote her autobiography. Through that, I know the following:

My great-great grandfather was a chimney sweep.

I'm practically related to Dick van Dyke
I’m practically related to Dick van Dyke

My great-grandfather was a bushelling tailor who, “did not make suits, but refitted and repaired them.” He came from Denmark in 1892, found a tailoring job, and then sent for his family.

Family pictureMy great-grandmother came over steerage with four children. She couldn’t speak any English. My grandmother still remembered the name of the woman who taught her mother English. Lydia Buxton, may your descendants be blessed.

My grandmother and her brother were born in a tiny house in an alleyway in Beverly, Massachusetts.

My great-grandfather took in dry cleaning for extra money. My grandmother and her brother delivered clothes for him. One of her sisters worked for him every afternoon and sometimes all day Saturday. Still, they struggled to make ends meet. My grandmother wrote, “My father sometimes had to wait weeks for his money from wealthy people who would not take the time to write a check. My father would have to ask the coal dealer to wait until he received pay for his work.”

But they made sure the children went to church and to school. They had music in their lives. Piano. Violin. Choir.

My grandmother had wanted to become a teacher, but there was no money for “Normal School,” where high school graduates could be trained to become teachers. So she took a job as a switchboard operator for the Woodbury Shoe Co. and earned $6 a week, two of which went to her father for room and board.

She met my grandfather at church. A church group gave her a surprise 16th birthday party, and my grandfather and his twin brother argued over who would get to take her home. She couldn’t tell them apart at the time.

He had stopped school in the 11th grade to take a bank job.

They married and had four children. My mother was the youngest.

Aviary Photo_130749679699200104She was a little girl who loved to catch snakes and would stand up to bullies.

When she grew up, the bully she held off wasn’t named Normie, but was named Alzheimer’s.

Doing this A-to-Z Challenge in her honor has been fun.

Thanks, Mom, for everything.