Still loving Textbook Amy Krouse Rosenthal...I laugh out loud reading every page. I feel like I relate to her so much. I love the way she thinks and how she puts it on paper. It makes me feel less crazy sometimes when I hear that other people sometimes think strange little thoughts like I do. I love those strange little thoughts - they make life interesting and often very funny too. I had a very AKR thought last night while driving home in the rain. Here it is: Is it just me, or do frogs always seem to commit suicide as I drive in the rain? Every time it rains, and I am driving, multiple frogs hop out onto the road directly in front of the passenger-side tire, as if they are aiming perfectly on purpose. Is there some kind of frog depression we do not know about? Is it the rain that makes them sad and lose their will to live? My Paw Paw always told me that it rains frogs; that's why they are always out when it rains. I believed him for so long...and still kinda do. Even though I have mistakenly and unfortunately taken the lives of so many frogs while driving in the rain, I still gasp and pause for a moment of silence after hearing the pitiful squish sound with every tragic incident. I hate that frogs do this. It is one of the sadder things in life. I suggest we invent frog-proof gates that keep them from entering the highway. I declare this an epidemic.
One of the books I thoroughly enjoyed reading this past week was Shortcut by Donald Crews. I enjoyed it not only because it is a good book, but because I got to experience it with my nephew, Levi (who also happens to be My Something Beautiful). He is two years old and he absolutely loves books. It is our most favorite thing to do together. Because I have to buy so many different books for grad school, every time a new shipment comes in from Amazon, we go through the box together and I let him pick which one we should read first. We have read many books, but his particular favorite so far is Shortcut. After reading it through one time, I thought we would move on to the next one as usual. But he would quickly say "Beep beep!" (that's Levi for train) and turn back to the beginning. As he was sitting on my lap, he laid his head back on my chest, his face against mine (that's the signal for me to start reading). It is the most peaceful feeling in the world for me. I could sit there all day in that chair with the greatest little boy in the world sitting on my lap, reading together. After we had read the entire book about three times, he began to do something different the fourth time around. He didn't want to start at the beginning, and he didn't want to stop at the end. He wanted me to start reading on the page that started with, "We knew when the passenger trains passed..." This is when the kids in the book had startled looks on their faces and the train was soon approaching. I made all the train sound effects, by the way. Then once we would get to the page where the end of the caboose is shown, he would say "Beep beep!" and flip back to our new starting page. We went through this cycle over, and over, and over, and over... countless times really. Just those same pages. Then he started to make the sound effects too. His version of "KLATIKY-KLAK" was my favorite. Lots of spit was involved, but it was just so cute.
Here is my Where I'm From poem. It has been my favorite writing experience. I kinda felt like Jacqueline Woodson writing a memoir about my own life in verse. I love writing about what has made me into the person I am. I love how it makes me feel when I read this - grounded, thankful, loved.
Where I’m From
I am from a country breeze,
My Paw Paw’s yard with chestnut trees,
The horny heads in Franklin Creek,
The slang I use when I speak.
I am from a duck named Bloomers,
Who I sang to everyday.
I am from the tall pine tree
Behind my house that sways and sways.
I am from my favorite place,
The woods that take my breath away.
The holes that trees would leave behind
Just for me to come and find.
I am from a hundred houses
Tucked away within those holes.
I am from the plastic bucket
Used to keep and capture moles.
I am from “Well, I declare...”
And “Why is mud all in your hair?”
“Lauren, keep your knees together!”
And “You ain’t drivin’ in this kind of weather!”
I am from my Honda 50,
Riding ‘til my knuckles hurt,
Jumpin’ humps and poppin’ wheelies,
Spinning doughnuts in the dirt.
I am from a worn-out pew,
Communion cups and “I ‘preciate you.”
I am from John 3:16,
Psalms and Romans 10:13.
I am from Thessalonians 3 verse 10,
“In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.”
I am from a Saving Grace,
The One Who gladly took my place,
The Lord of Lords and King of Kings,
The One of whom my soul doeth sing.
I am from my Paw Paw’s preachin’,
Not just his, but Daddy’s too.
I am from what they gave up
To spread the Word to me and you.
I am from “Do or Die,”
Devil Dogs and “Semper Fi.”
I am from red and white and blue,
A blood that runs with a patriot hue.
I am from the cuts I got
From long, thin strands of Pampas grass.
I am from walking up the creek
And finding shards of broken glass.
I am from the sticky leaves
That poked my toes and made them bleed.
I am from where I have been,
Here and there, now and then.
I am from my mother’s hands
That always seem to hold me up.
I am from my brother’s strength,
Keeping me from giving up.
I am from my grandmother’s prayers
That shield me from the world around.
I am from my biggest dreams
That got me here, where I am now.
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