Beckoning of Lovely

My something beautiful for today:

(via Mighty Girl)

Listening: To that song in the video, which is the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind theme, which I love, love, love.

To take a bite out of something

Something beautiful I experienced today:

Rain falling in heavy sheets, dandelions wilting to the ground, white in the gloom. Storm sounds echoing in the fireplace.

Also:

Floater
by Debra Nystrom
-to Dan

Maddening shadow across your line of vision-
what might be there, then isn't, making it

hard to be on the lookout, concentrate, even
hear-well, enough of the story I've

given you, at least-you've had your fill, never
asked for this, though you were the one

to put a hand out, catch hold, not about to let me
vanish the way of the two you lost already

to grief's lure. I'm here; close your eyes,
listen to our daughter practicing, going over and over

the Bach, getting the mordents right, to make the lovely
Invention definite. What does mordent mean,

her piano teacher asked-I was waiting in the kitchen
and overheard-I don't know, something about dying?

No; morire means to die, mordere means to take
a bite out of something-good mistake, she said.

Not to die, to take a bite-what you asked
of me-and then pleasure

in the taking. Close your eyes now,
listen. No one is leaving.

Listening: The Graze, "Maudlin"

Thunder shudders shaking branches

Something beautiful I experienced today:

I took the girls outside to play in the rain puddles, to look for bugs, to traipse the little rivers of rain running along curbs in our neighborhood. We walked along the curb in front of our house; I held Violet's hand while Mad ran ahead, kicking up the water, arms outstretched beside her. Suddenly she let out a tremendous screech of elation, "MAMA!" She turned to face me and ran as fast as she could. "MAMA, I FOUND A SNAAAKE! I GRABBED IT!" Her face was an utter paroxysm of joy.

It turns out, it was a little pink worm. "That's really cool, Mad," I told her. "It's a little pink worm, though, not a snake. They live in the ground and like to come out when it rains."

She stared at it seriously for a moment. "That is a worm snake," she said decisively. "I found a cool worm snake, Mama!"

Listening: Pictures and Sound, "It's You"

Spill your thoughts on the floor

Something beautiful from Friday:

Drummers who sing lead on songs. Sparkly orange drum sets. Bare feet on stage, plastic pink flip flops discarded near the microphone stand. Crazy-eyed lead singers who become the song they're singing, completely animated. Her side ponytail.

Plus:

The quote my friend sent about how whoever you want your child to become, you have to become yourself. After the Thao show on Friday, I have to figure out how to become Thao. I think it's going to be tough.

Then:

My husband took a "creative" route home and we drove through a ragged area outside of the stockyards. Row after row of abandoned buildings, dark, eerie lights shining from some of them. Grafitti on the walls.

Also:

Being up past midnight.

Listening: Thao with The Get Down Stay Down, "Bag of Hammers"

It's tough....so tough

The last few days I've felt like I've been walking around with dark, scratchy clouds floating above my head. You know? Picture an imaginary cord in your brain that can plug into the world around you. Now picture that cord all tangled up on itself, all useless and wasted. That's been me. Life! You are on notice. Get better.

Something beautiful:

At the grocery store this evening, smack-dab in the middle of suburbia, Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer" comes on the loudspeakers. Woah Woah Woah Wuh-Wuh-Woah Woah Woah Tommy used to work on the docks....There are three people in line in front of me and the cashier is singing along under her breath and laughing intermittently. She's dancing a little as she rings purchases. I realize when I am checking out that the cashier is laughing at the customer service woman who has come out from behind the customer service desk to dance and lip sync to the song.

Listening: Bon Jovi, "Livin' on a Prayer"

The wind is trying to tell you something

Something beautiful:

Driving in the downpour, in the loud, cozy darkness of gray, windows shut tight everywhere, doors closed, people tucked in at home. Neko Case's "People Gotta Lot of Nerve" is on and it's the perfect soundtrack for this day. We drive by the Hudson Family Barber Shop, and it's a warm, glowing gem in the gloom, packed with men getting haircuts in old-fashioned barber chairs. The barber shop pole by the door spins blue, red and white.

Else:

My head had just settled into my pillow last night when the name for the novel I have yet to write popped in my head. And the first line of the novel. And the opening scene. Lights have been dim lately. It's a good time to start something.

And:

Madeleine ran to me this morning, holding her hands up. "Mama!" She shouted. "I can't open the door! My hands are too shashy!" "Shashy?" I echoed. "Yeah," she said. "They can't open the door!" Why the word "shashy" doesn't already exist in our lexicon, I don't know, but I'm glad Mad invented it.

Listening: The Coach and Four, "girls arms redux"

Borrowing beautifuls

Something beautiful I experienced today:

Hands down, it's Dallas Clayton's "An Awesome Book." You can read the whole thing at that link, but here's a page:

It made me cry it was so good.

Plus:

Best birthday party EVER.
Blue Sky + Balloons.

Listening: Still Flyin', "Good Thing It's a Ghost Town Around Here"

My mom says I should keep an eye on it.

Something beautiful I experienced on Easter Sunday:

It was late in the afternoon and neither of my girls had napped, so they were acting a bit erratic -- thrilled to be alive one second; the next, they were bemoaning the misery of existence. I was sitting on the couch with both girls clamoring at my knees. Violet let out a sudden cry of frustration and rubbed her face into the top of my thigh, then bit, HARD. I yelped (loudly) and said sternly (also loudly) "Violet! NO! BITING!"

She promptly wailed, mouth open, vicious little chompers gleaming, eyes full of fat, woeful tears, and tried to climb into my lap. Mad, too, burst into tears, face squinched with despair as she successfully climbed into my lap, knocking Violet out of the way and crying in my face, "Mama, are you HAPPY? Maaaamaaa! Are. You. HAAAAPYYYY?"

I stared for a second in bewilderment, wondering where to even begin. I decided Mad was the easiest to calm, so I looked her in the eye and said (falsely), "Yes, Mad, I'm happy. See? It's okay!" And she stopped crying.

I grabbed Violet and pulled her into my lap, and after a moment, she calmed, too.

Less than a minute later, they were both settled comfortably, Mad at my left, Violet on my right. Mad said, "Lightning McQueen," with a contented sigh. (Lightning McQueen is currently my alter ego, according to her.) Violet was fast on her way to dozing off.

I decided this was the perfect metaphor for motherhood, all pain and angst one second, all tender and sweet the next. Sometimes all at once. It's a wonder we don't split at the seams, too full of extremes. It's a wonder that these threads that tie us are strong enough to withstand that, the constant flux of great and terrible, of that middle ground where nothing is sure except that you are theirs and they are yours and it's enough to keep you going. More than enough.

Later, I checked the bite and saw that rabid little monster drew blood with that bite, THROUGH MY JEANS. This is the same little girl that spins in circles in the living room, saying, "Wheeee" over and over again. What are you gonna do?

Listening: happy apple, "Calgon for Hetfield"

Nothing could be prettier than this

Today was tough.

One beautiful thing I experienced today:

Typing out everything that sucked about today, then deciding none of it really matters, and deleting it.

Because there was a dearth of good stuff today, I will borrow the rest of my something beautifuls:

How to be an explorer of the world.
Pink dresses.
Yours and yours and yours. Encores.

Also:

Orange dresses.

Listening: Kate Micucci, "Walking in Los Angeles"

Easy enchiladas

One beautiful thing I experienced yesterday:

The phrase "crippled summer" and the lyric "anatomy to me is a homesick stomach and a broken heart" from these guys. See also: "naked swan-necked girls, your arching backs to the sun."

Plus:

The lying spring day. From the inside, all you see is deep blue sky and an abundance of green. Outside, it's all cold wind that makes you gasp and little daughters laugh at the way their hair whips in the onslaught.

And some more:

Wild onions dotting side trails at the park.

Also:

Enchiladas for dinner - leftover mesquite-roasted turkey, onions, salsa and cheese. So easy and so very yum.

Listening: Hexes & Ohs, "Wildfire!"

Small dreams too big

One beautiful thing I experienced today:

The cashier at Target, who had to be some kind of clairvoyant. As she rang my items, she said, "You have two kids, yes?" Since I was flying solo just then, I stared at her in surprise. "Yes, how did you know?" She gestured vaguely to my items, as though they had clued her in. I had purchased a package of empty Easter eggs and some candy.

A few minutes later, she was handing me $10 cash back. As she pressed the bill into my palm, she said, "You aren't going to cook; you're going to buy some food with this." Again with the shock, because I had gotten the $10 so I could buy a hot dog from the cafe.

I wanted to clutch her hands and beg, "Tell me, how does it all end?" But I decided it was better not to know.

Other:

We took the girls for a walk today and navigated the rocks and mud to traipse in the creek bed. Where the dirt was dry, the ground was cracked and dusty; closer to the water, the ground was thick and sticky. Grasshoppers flew all around us; little aphids scattered. Tadpoles and minnows mingled near the shore of the creek and little frogs jumped everywhere. Baby snakes slithered from the shore and cut fluid, winding lines through the water.

I lumbered awkwardly to the ground, walking boot thrust in front of me, already caked with mud. I had planned to look for "shark" teeth, those tiny little fish teeth that hide in the sandy ground near creeks just like this one. I pulled a rock from the ground for digging, and as the dry dirt flaked in clumps where the rock was, a smell wafted up to me, a low, sweet smell of decay, of dirt, of stagnant water, and for that second I was nine-years-old again, alive with the possibility of finding something amazing there in the dirt, maybe a petrified jaw with many teeth on it, maybe a tooth as big as the bed we were standing on.

Listening: Samantha Crain and the Midnight Shivers, "Rising Sun"

When spring is cold and uninviting

Beautiful things:

Winds so strong baseball caps are snatched from heads; a bald man chases his through the parking lot.

Other:

When I asked my daughter what she wanted to have for dinner, she thought for a moment, then shouted, "Gummy worms!"

And then some:

Listening: Buck 65 feat. Jenn Grant, "Paper Airplane"