A Few Things I Learned in August ( And Am Willing To Share)

August 30, 2013 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 8 Comments

You may have stumbled here. Welcome. Or you may follow along. Thank you. What a gift to have you reading. This is where I mix it up a bit. It’s the end of August and I am joining my friend Emily P. Freeman (I love that she uses her middle initial. Someone else I know does the same thing. 🙂 ) from the blog, Chatting At The Sky . We are taking a look back at last month, recalling some things we learned during August. Here are seven things I have chosen to share. You should see the ones that didn’t make the cut. They may show up in their very own blog post or poem.

Get out now. Well I really would rather you stayed but I am trying to sort of warn you. It gets very very random from this point forward.

This was fun in June and July. Follow the link to go back and review the summer highlight reel with me.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

1. I learned what a “Dirty Chai” is. One of the recent things I have done slash happened upon which made no sense in hindsight involved lots of caffeine. At my favorite coffee shop one day around ” tired 4:00 ish pm” I asked if Chai Tea had caffeine in it. And the barista answered yes. And I then asked how can I make it more caffeinated and he responded “we call that a Dirty Chai”. Oh, ok. So one shot of espresso wasn’t enough so I ordered two. And a small wasn’t enough so I ordered a large. And the rest is sleepless history. It was deliciously caffeinated and I was really tired the next day. You’re welcome for the heads up.

2. So I am a big fan of Downton Abbey. Which opens up all sorts of other British drama possibilities once one goes looking. I am now a huge fan of “Call the Midwife.” I mean I am kind of NUTS about it. As in I may, may like it better…..no I can’t make that judgement. It is like picking a favorite ice cream or favorite child. After you watch an episode or two you can tell me what you think. Here is the trailer from PBS. The music is fab too. I believe we are up to Season 3, but don’t quote me. How do you like the royal we there. Oh and I follow them on twitter and facebook. So can you.

3. Parenting isn’t for weenies. And if I elaborate on this you will end up with a “War and Peace” ish tome on that very subject. I am just guessing, but I don’t think you signed up for that here. But I may be writing about it soon. #parentingisnotforthefaintofheart. I wonder if I can add 23 plus 18 plus 17 and round up since the birthdays are soonish and if that equals how many parenting years I have under my belt. #feellikeanewbie

4. Parenting isn’t for weenies. (that one needs to take up two line items of learned knowledge

5. I have decided I want to write music. Mildly obsessed with this, really. Maybe one day I will. But you all are so precious to listen to my dreams. It is number 5 because I sort of ran into this piece of knowledge. I mean, it kept haunting me. Finally, I said “Dream, nice to meet you. I think I will keep you.”

6. I am learning to seek poetry in more places. And I am increasingly fascinated by Instagram. Once a skeptic, now a big fan. (Should I rename this post “Some Things I Am A Fan Of This Month). Here are some fun peeks into my Instagram world. Am I following you on Instagram? I am @graceappears there.

The salt creek and brown pelicans will never grow old. To my soul they deliver joy and utter fascination.

I love this church at the end of my street. And though I am not a member, I love to visit. I don’t know why I want to giggle at The Chapel Of Ease, subtitle? It is probably really good theology. What if all Churches were chapels of ease, and grace and love and sweet warm invitation. Holy gracious goodness. I love this picture, this church and I love the front doors.

7. The “teacher” on Scrabble is sort of a show off. I have learned a lot from him/her and I do feel challenged by her skills. I play a two player Scrabble game where I take turns with myself. So after every move she grades me and says Outstanding, Excellent, Good or HMM. It’s when she says HMM that I get a little grumpy. And there are words, really, really that are words. Did you know “aa” is a word. And I could go on and on. Here are a few words I learned from the “Scrabble Dictionary”. I probably won’t be using any of these on my blog. And I just learned while I was looking up random weird words that I was using the British (Collins) dictionary. I switched it to the English (TWL) dictionary. Great. That should make a big difference. Aa,ab,ae,ag,oo,ee are all words and it gets weirder. She knows so many multi-syllabic words that I have never, ever heard of that it makes my head spin. Seriously, words I will never ever use in a sentence or a blog post. But I was taught not to question the teacher. So whatever. I think its like the casinos in Las Vegas. I am just guessing, the house always wins.

8. And 8 is my bonus item. I know I told you there were 7 but I learned that my neighbor’s parrot might be imitating me calling my dogs at night. I am going to post a video on Instagram of the parrot imitating me and then you can decide if you think it is me calling my dogs or the parrot. It is a hoot. When we were newly married, we had a parrot that imitated my husband calling me “Elizabeth, Elizabeth”.

I warned you it would get random here. 🙂 You all are good sports.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This is so much fun, don’t you want to share a random thing you learned sometime recently in the comments. I would love to hear. Tomorrow it is back to poetry, but this rocks my world. Can’t wait to go to Chatting At The Sky to read some of the dozens of posts up over there. I love being a life-time learner. Life is never boring.

The Letters

May 14, 2013May 14, 2013 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

Two letters came in the box on the road
the one that is accustomed to holding no great thing.
Unless you count taxes and coupons among the great things in God’s creation.
Some how no, though Caesar needs his due too.

Two letters came in the box, diverging days apart, like Frost’s roads
Our only choice was to open and savor and feel changed
By the power of words written by hand, delivered by snails and placed in a box on the road.

Moments are simple that way.
A child old enough to go to war and vote says this was the best one he ever got.
Words like that grab you
Pinch like ill-fitting shoes, a wake you up pinch.
And shout you have that too, dormant, laying there.

Two letters came but some words came by social media too
Choked me up, bright red flush came over me
Words can do that
Someone called me a name, a good one
Undeserving but I wore it around the house for awhile like a royal robe
Put the crown on too
Realized she didn’t really know me as well as she thought.

Some words touched someone the other day, they were true
The ones I wrote about the man who grows art with thorns in his yard.
He uses dirt but he has the Louvre of roses over there
And I didn’t even know it until
Well I read some of his words about it
Asked if I could stop by.
A few words later and I have all these photographs of miracles
He grew with God, art in the yard, co-creator he and God.

He just gave her twenty dollars
For her life’s work and ministry
He didn’t have a lot knocking around his money clip
It never was about the money anyway
But she sat down and wrote a two page letter

A letter ended up in my box
And I wanted to weep but couldn’t
I have to be tough these days, so I don’t leak all over every one
Letters of gratitude are still in vogue
And manners are important but matters of the heart
Well they trump it all.
And twenty dollars really can matter
And it’s all about the friendship that started over how we might help a little. A very little bit.

And the funny thing is the lady that brings all of the snail mail
Well she broke me up, tore me up
She wrote a little piece and put it in the box
She covered us with forty seven cents and she wanted her money back
She did us a service and she wanted to be repaid
So I pulled out my Crane stationery and thanked her properly for the loan
Because it could have been her last red dime.

Because she brings good gifts.
Like the one that the teacher saved for seven years
The one the eighteen year old who could be a soldier got
The best mail ever
Because teachers and letter writers change lives
She said remember when I asked you in fifth grade to write a letter to yourself in seven years, well here it is.

And we’d lost two pets and his favorite food is still tacos and his brother isn’t married
But we see the value in loving in the simple
And holding a child’s letter for seven years

And if you want to tell someone they are a good role model you might
make their day
or tell a man you want to see his garden
or just say something to someone

Chances are you
might get filed away in a mental memory
make a young man smile
or make a new friend, a man who didn’t know anyone really saw all the beauty
or bless a woman who thought she wasn’t getting it all right
or a mail carrier who doesn’t have forty seven cents to lend out.

That long arm and those long fingers have work to do.
Go tell someone something that might change their heart
Or mind.

And sofa cushions are good bankers
For investments in people

And I talk to myself when I need a good talking to.

A Poet’s Prayer

May 3, 2013May 3, 2013 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ Leave a comment

Some of those songwriters
Man they slay me
Lassoing words up into something that goes round for eternity on repeat in your soul
Speaking words of wisdom
About world turning
And missing Mayberry, sitting on the front porch

When will the noteless poet penetrate words
Through the film of hurting humanity
Words of George asking Jane to stop this crazy thing
They too, plant into the culture deep roots of permanency.

Some of those songwriters
Man they nail it
With someone left the cake out in the rain
We live a lifetime repeating nonsense

Or remembering bridges over troubled waters
And never seeing friendship the same way again
Can a poet reign in a heart and cup it toward glory
Toward all He is and made and does and loves

Some of those songwriters
Man they knock it out of the park
Taking words and sending them out onto the dance floor partnered with notes
To waltz and shag and boogey with words that we
Remember, memories like the corners of my mind

Can a noteless word dance in the silence, buoy
Hearts
Grab hold of the hopeless and the beauty seeker
The longing one, the lonely one, the one following after
The heart of God.

Man those guys from Nashville, they really crush it
Dice and slice words on a blank page pair them with music
And give us beauty we remember forever
Can a poet in 2103 show His glory Hallelujah in the quiet

In the quiet of a place
When the music stops
Can the words alone
Pull back the lids of a complacent heart

And sing a song of noteless beauty

And whisper amazing grace, how sweet the sound.

Lord, give me words that soar and dance on the edges of the heavenlies
Or send me packing
Maybe to Nashville

Documentary

April 28, 2013April 28, 2013 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 6 Comments

We wove around the Old Ragsdale Building

Among and in

And like ants on the way to the fried chicken from The Pig at a picnic

We were searching for

Around a million different ways to see a world.

Hanging displayed sitting displayed whispering shouting

Every piece at a different pitch

Perfect for its medium.

But I was there for Agnes . And I was there for Agnes’ child.

A life can take up a whole back wall of a tobacco building in its telling,

And still leave out whole parts. How many panels does it take to capture fully

Close to ninety years.

Like a camera, painter artist daughter friend

Makes permanent a life.

Elegance and wit wind around the strokes color, pigmentation teaches in tones of peach.

Stand back and breathe in, a girl becomes a wise matriarch

Just paces down the old brick sits

An anteater eating of all things a colony of gigantic ants beside voter registration.

This is Artfields and this is what they do, documentarians of our lives,

One studied nine breasts, documenting differences.

But I was there for Agnes and “All The In Between.”

To see a hundred ways to see a world,

Yes,

But driving all this way to know the love of one,

Daughter for her dying mom.

Agnes would laugh at her juxtaposition of a life,

So close to

Well an anteater. And I know because I know

The Artist.

And the ways she sees all the in between,

The panels of a life.

++++++++++++++++++++++

To discover more of my friend and her work, visit lauriemcintoshstudio dot com. And pick up her book Agnes’ life “All The In Between – My Story of Agnes” (Amazon, Barnes and Noble and at MuddyFordPress.com )

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: