Get Your Creative Costume on!

Some days I am especially grateful to have children.

Halloween is one of those days. I live in an area of the country where many people do not celebrate, mostly for religious reasons.

I am not one of those people.

It's not the candy, or the horror flicks on television. It's the chance to dress up. I LOVE dressing up. It is a way to fit my love of stories into my daily life, along with my fascination with costuming (engendered in my theatre participation), my love of sewing, and my need for imaginative play all together.

Thankfully, it's my year to take the kids trick-or-treating. I dress up either way (even when I hand out candy), but it's infinitely more fun when I get to walk around from door to door, ostensibly to "monitor" my kids as they do the same, only with pumpkin pails to collect their candy. (The candy doesn't interest me in the least… okay, maybe a little, but only the Almond Joys and Bit-o-Honeys).

So we're starting school as soon as possible this morning, and then prepping splendidly for a night of walking around in character. I'll update this post later today with a picture of all of us!

Weekend Update

It's been over a week since I checked in... and, as usual, I've been busy.

I spent the holiday sifting out a bunch of activities, but, lo and behold, I've managed to add a bunch of other activities in just as swiftly. I've set up and opened an art gallery show, developed two college courses--one in-class, one online--and I've started on a new theatrical journey with my two little ones. 

Believe it or not (for those of you who've been checking in some lately), my brave little son sang well enough that he's been cast as OLIVER TWIST. Yup, he was floored, amazed, and a bit overwhelmed at first--as was I--but we're settling into this new evening pattern of rehearsals and singing and practicing lines. Kind of cool, actually. Nope, it's flat out AWESOME! This is the beginning of a long-running involvement in theatre for him, I think. Even better, my daughter has found her place in the company, and I have a part, too, so we all get to attend rehearsals together. 

I'm also about to attack the project of costuming the show--hurray! Costuming is my favorite kind of sewing, and the added bonus of outfitting Dickens' characters doesn't hurt, either. It'll take some time and prep, but it's going to be truly fun as I work through it.

Plus, I'm gearing up to work again on my spirit book, and I'm in the cogitation stage for a whole series of novels set here in Bainbridge. The research I do for this other book will be helpful in creating the atmosphere of the series, and I hope to eventually do a great deal to add to the tourism possible in this particular area. 

I'll let you know how it all goes. I know it sounds ambitious, but I can't help that. My life is too short not to get stuff done.

Anything ambitious on your plate lately?

New Travels

Remember when you first ventured to a new place? You were half excited, half nervous. Would the place be as exciting as you'd hoped? Would you find fun stuff to see or do? Or would it be boring? Would it smell like urine there--or mold--and would the hotel have cold running water or hot running roaches?

You were probably filled with anticipation, expectation, trepidation, and even abject fear.

Okay, so I can't speak for you... but I've felt all of that. And I feel the same thing when I'm trying something new. Say I decide to join a choir, or learn to knit, or take a class on photography. I could totally suck at it. It happens to all of us (or most of us, for those of you in denial). And the more new things we try, the more likely it will happen.

But it's important to travel into that new territory anyway.

Let me use the travel metaphor again to illustrate why. Say that you go on a cruise to Cozumel. And it was fun. And Cozumel was fun. So the next time you think about going on a cruise, you go back to Cozumel. You know you liked it, and you are afraid the other ports of call won't be as good, so you just keep going back in the same direction. Over and over.

But after a while Cozumel gets old. And in the end you realize that you've missed out on a ton of other places--and that's just in the Caribbean. No telling how many other fantastic places you've missed. Even if you cruise other places, but never travel any other way, you will miss out. Can you truly see Europe if you don't go inland? Nope. You miss too much. Can you see it in a week? Nope. What about Asia? What about Africa? How will you know what places truly resonate with you if you don't try them out?

There's the two kiddos...
bet you didn't know my daughter had purple hair, did you?
(graphic courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net)

I write this, not because I've ventured into new territory lately--and not because I've been on a cruise lately, either--but because my kids have done something truly new. Last night they both auditioned for our community theatre's production of Oliver! I auditioned, too, but I'm a bit more experienced with it than they are. I could tell they were nervous. And even a little scared. My son  couldn't sit back in his seat, even after he had sung his little piece.

But they both did it. They both stepped up on that stage--by themselves, mind you, not holding my hand or anything--and sang a song. And they both got back up there and learned a little dance routine so that the choreographer could see whether they could dance at all.

Will they get a part? No idea. I'm not sure whether that really matters (at least not to me). I'm bursting at the seams with pride that they tried out, that they had the guts to step up there and do something new and radical. I hope this is just one of many new things they try this year. Whether they get parts or not, they have added a notch to their confidence, have realized that they wouldn't die from fear, and have proven themselves a bit more independent than they were last year.

Now I have to consider what new things I will try this year. Where will I venture? How will I keep myself from staying within my travel comfort zone?

Come to think of it, what new travels are you planning?

Wanting More?

I can't say whether it's just in the U.S., but it seems like people are compelled to buy more and more stuff in the relentless pursuit of happiness.

Shoppers are rushing back to the stores even as I write--returning gifts they don't want, then spending a ton more on gifts they DO want--as if the stuff will finally satisfy the hole they find in the pit of their stomach.

I don't believe that really works.

The hubby waxed philosophical about this yesterday, shaking his head and saying, "You know, I think I'm happy now. There's nothing out there that I don't have that would really make my life better. I'm content with everything just as it is."

He looked at me for that spousal agreement sort of thing. You know, the oh-honey-I-think-the-same-thing-in-exactly-the-same-way comment. But I realized that I wasn't content with everything just as it is.

Not because I wanted more stuff. Oh, no. I don't like stuff in general, and I'd be more content with less stuff. I'm not content, not because I want more stuff, but because I want to DO more. Looking back over my year, I wish I'd written more, painted more, sung more, played piano more, tried out more new recipes, exercised more, sewn more. And the list goes on.

It probably doesn't make any sense. I just feel driven to do all I possibly can with the life I have. I don't want to waste time on crap. I want to create something real.

So, that's my goal for today--and for every day: Make something.

I plan to sew today--do some mending, but also sew my daughter a bathrobe and my son a toy bin. They'll probably drag on through tomorrow at least, but then I'll have made something. It's a beautiful feeling, too, making something. Better than having stuff. Far better than buying stuff. Creating something may, perhaps, give me the best feeling in the world. It's worth all the work, all the time, all the effort.

Enough blogging. I'm off to MAKE.

A Few Disappointments

Christmas morning was great... and Christmas dinner turned out better than I could have expected. The food all turned out well, and making the casseroles the day before turned the whole cooking experience into a relaxed sort of dance. I even managed to play a few Christmas carols on the piano at one point. When does THAT happen?

But then the day turned not so wonderful. We went to see Les Miserables, and the hubby and I were both itching to be impressed. The film did not fulfill my expectations. I can't claim to be devastated, but the director was so fixated on facial expression that he filmed nearly everything in tight shots centered on each actor's face--to the detriment of any cinematography that might illuminate gesture, setting, etc. And his methods for filming meant actors could act--though Russell Crowe decided not to--but only a handful of them actually sang well, and I don't count Hugh Jackman among them. His voice was reedy and annoying, and his rendition of "Bring Him Home" made me positively cringe. Anne Hathaway was absolutely brilliant--truly--and many of the young students and both little kids could also sing--but otherwise the music was gritty and unlovely.

That was not the lowest point of the day, though. My little boy writhed through much of the film, complaining of a stomach ache... which wasn't fake, since the hubby ended up running out of the theatre with him so that he could heave up everything he'd eaten that day. I should have taken care of him, too, considering that I wasn't enjoying the film and I think the hubby was far less exacting than I and had been, up to that point, having a fantastic time.

We made a few hurling stops on the way home, and then my son fell asleep, emptied at last. I watched him overnight, to make sure I was there in case any last bit decided to come up on its own. Nothing did, and this morning he seems okay.

I just hope the hubby finds a time to go back to the movie and see it again--without anything to hinder his enjoyment of the film. Including me. Except for my criticisms here, I don't intend to say a single negative thing about the film to him--especially if he loves it. But I do not want to see it again.

Advent Calendar--December 24

This is the last one... and that means I managed to blog 24 days in a row! Thanks for sticking in there with me, Walking Man... how's it feel to be my most faithful reader?

I'm the wee one
The conundrum
The irony

I'm the "reason"
But those who spout
About
Me
Are just as bent on buying
As those who trim Thor's tree

I'm the life
The breath that started breathing long ago
That breathes now
But I don't breathe of judgment
I don't bring war
I don't cause the hate
I am not at all
What I am painted to be

Please don't judge
Don't assume you know me
Your limits
Box me in
And cover me up

Just listen
To the snow outside your window
Sifting through tree branches
To the padding feet of pjs
To the softness of prayer
To the feel of poinsettia petals
To the whispers of love
All around you

Only then will you find me.

Who am I?

Advent Calendar--December 23

I move like a flash
With a shush of snow and ice
Better than a Zamboni

Need to get around
In the frozen tundra of winter
Without the hassle of tires?

With a horse, some reins
And a glossy me
You can travel like the wind

With a little help from Santa
And a team of magic deer
I even fly.

What am I?

Advent Calendar--December 22

Creamy and delicious
(Or maybe not--
It's up to you)
Spiced with nutmeg
And thick with eggs and milk
I'm not for children
(Especially when laced with rum--
The BEST way to enjoy me)
But just a nip of me
And the holidays begin for real.

Haven't tried me?
Really?
Well, what are you waiting for?

What am I?

Advent Calendar--December 21

Only a few more days... I'm just glad I've actually kept at the writing (even if I did only because my kids would be disappointed otherwise):

I'm the present nobody wants
The heavy concoction of
Fruited nuts
And nutted fruits

Solid enough to be a doorstop
Ugly enough to make one gag
(Before one even takes a taste)
Able to last from one holiday to the next

What am I?

I'm betting my kids won't get this. I've never made one of these, and I never will. Thankfully, I haven't been given one in years.

Advent Calendar--December 20

I drift into your ear sometimes
At first a beat, or tinkling tune
Some somber notes, some silly rhymes
The words some famous people croon

I stick without throughout the day
Humming in your head a bit
Accompany you on your way
To shop, to drive, to talk, to sit

I'll never leave your head, you know
Through seasons' changing, on and on
You'll hum me fast or sing me slow
The whole year round, at dusk or dawn.

What am I?

Advent Calendar--December 19

All by myself
I'm spiced with sweetness
Crispy and ready to eat

But you don't eat me

You cut me
Into fat pieces
Frost me up with icing

And this suits me just fine

So go ahead
Decorate me with those gummy drops
The spicy ones in green and red

I like those candies best

Or licorice, or lollipops
To line my windows, doors, and roof
The frosting adds some needed snow

And then I'm ready for display

But pretty doesn't really suit me
Looking isn't quite enough
I sigh for little sneaky fingers
To pull off pieces, nibble up

After all, I'm really meant for EATING.

What am I?

Advent Calendar--December 18

It obviously does no good to schedule a post, since they just sit around in draft form anyway.

Here's December 18, which should have posted at least 24 hours ago (though the time stamp says yesterday):


I'm not meant for naked toes
Though I might seem the softest sight
Put on boots before you go
To tromp along my mass of white

You'll leave big footprints everywhere
Or make a man of some of me
I'll mark your cheeks, but you won't care,
I've blessed your world, and you've blessed me.

What am I?

Advent Calendar--December 17

By now I am covered with flour
Frosting
Sprinkles
The wipings of little hands
And big ones

Don't fret--it's what I was meant for
The drips
The smears
To protect a person's clothes
In a pinch

And with a good washing I'll lose
The stains
The mess
But I'll keep the memories
Of yearly Christmas cookies.

What am I?

Advent Calendar--December 16

Perhaps I'm just old-fashioned
Or a little past my prime
I sure don't last forever
Snuffing dark when out of time

But I'm better than a light bulb
For I shine the perfect light
Soften up the hardest edges
Gentling in the darkest night.

I myself am not important,
Yet illuminate the truth.
Take a long, good look around you
And you'll see the living proof.

The caring in a loved one's eyes
The grief of shedding tears
Holding hands, soft singing, crying
Pain, forgiveness, mercy, sighing
Lighting up this world for years.

What am I?

In solidarity with those grieving in Connecticut and around the world, I light mine. I will light one every day in the memory of those children, parents, and educators until something is done to stop the senselessness of our country's belief that only guns can bring safety. Until we start to see each other as human beings, not bullet receptacles.

Guns bring death. That's all they are for. They can only do what we created them to do. They'll only fall out of favor when we find a more efficient way to kill people.

So I will light mine, every day. And hope.

Advent Calendar--December 15

Think I'm a skinflint, do you?
Think I'm the worst of the worst?
More devil than human?
Beyond recall?

Don't be fooled
Don't believe for a moment
That I'm the only one
For Dickens designed me from you

I'm the you that won't give
The you that seeks money more than meaning
The you with no time for others
No mercy, no sympathy, no sacrifice

I am Everyman
With one exception:
I have learned my lesson in the end
Learned to let go of avarice and love my fellow man.

Have you?

Who am I?

Advent Calendar--December 14

Soft and white
As snow
Peacefully
I go

Warm as hearth
Not cold
Calm as peace
Not bold

Fly with me
Some day
Serenely
His way.

What am I?

Trying to keep it different here... if you're one of the four people checking this out every day, thanks for reading!

Advent Calendar--December 13

I promise, I had the 12th finished early... but I scheduled it to be published, and I guess it didn't go through.

Now it has.

Here's the installment for today. It's later than I'd like, and the kids have noticed! Darn!


A red and white
Curve of sweetness
Fit for children

If adults let them eat me
On their own

Hook me on a tree branch
Or into a stocking
Or on a little finger

Or break me into pieces
And share me

Who am I?



I won't put the solution to the 12th in yet, since I just noticed the Blogger error. This one's pretty easy, though...

Hope your holiday shopping is finished by now. If it is (and it is for me, thank God), that means you are part of the 18% finished. Supposedly 60% still haven't started.

Then again, it's never been about the shopping for me. I'm off to play some piano Christmas carols!

Advent Calendar--December 12

All is not quite dead outside
For I see that am here
Happy in this winter-wide
Snow wonder world of cheer.

I flit from branch to branch by day
A blot of red on white
The others have all flown away
No other bird in sight

Yet I am here, content to be
The only one to stay
To make my home in winter, me
The faithful bird always.

What am I?


It's the best I could do, given what little time I had. Hope your holiday season is less hectic than mine!

Advent Calendar--December 11

I can't believe I didn't get this done earlier, but I've been running since 4:30 a.m.

Here it is, the riddle poem for today:

I'm an evergreen welcome sign
Friendly to Thor, to winter,
To visitors, both friend and foe alike

I might be plain old needles
Or dressed up with a bow
Lights
Pine cones
Tinsel
Tiny presents
Or anything human imagination
Can divine.

But know, if me you see,
That you are welcome, one and all!

Who am I?


(Yesterday's answer--bag of toys)

Advent Calendar--December 10

Hidden in the dark of our magic bag

We whisper to each other 

In expectation

We've been carefully made with one child in mind

And artfully wrapped and labeled

But with speed

Now we feel the rush of wind outside

And our collective excitement grows

As we make the journey home

Who will open us on Christmas morning?

Who will give our short lives purpose?

Who will love us as our maker intended?

We await the rush of joy

The solitary journey down the chimney

To reach our good boy or girl.

What are we?

(Yesterday's answer: Angel)