Curtiss Ann Matlock's Blog

I'm giving away a large-print copy of Chin Up, Honey. You can read more about it at my blog, Pressing On Simply leave a comment here or at the blog post to be entered into the drawing.

I read this today. It speaks to me:

"...writers, each of whom braves his or her way onto the blank page day after day, trusting the subconscious, believing in the power of language to lift us out of ourselves, to transform us, to bring us tiding of love, and of great joy." ~Dannye Romine Powell, from her book: Parting the Curtains, interviews with southern writers.

I am alive and well and just a little crazy in Alabama, a phrase brought to mind because I recently unpacked the delightful book-- Crazy in Alabama, by Mark Childress. (One of my favorites, btw!)

Unpacking books is a difficult endeavor for me. Of course I have to read, and I end up stacking many atop the bookcases in my uncertainty as to which books I want in which case, or because I am called away to some other endeavor.

Let me just say that this business of moving a household nine-hundred miles is not an endeavor for sissies. There are also a myriad of repairs and remodeling. Add in moving one's psyche from days spent totally alone to days spent with a dear but lively two-year-old, and family and contractors and repairmen dropping in. It is a death of the old and rebirth of the new, never an easy proposition. My frame of mind is quite frayed. In fact, the frayed frame is all that is left of my mind.

The other evening, while sitting on the porch, (finally alone in stillness enough to hear my own thoughts) I realized something stupendous: I have not lost a single thing that I loved about living at my previous house in Oklahoma.

We still live in the country setting, four acres of a pecan orchard, in a house perfect for us, and the entire house has oak woodwork, much of it antique, brick and hardwood flooring. My office, newly painted, is a delightful space, new and changed, as I am. Next door is a pasture with nine horses that I do not have to care for but still get to see and pet. And the sunsets seen from our porch are magnificent.

I first began to have the desire to move some five years ago. I told myself it was impossible. The desire persisted. I began to think: Perhaps, and to pray, and pray, and pray, and to take one step at a time. Some doors closed, others opened. Things have turned out far better than I had imagined.

We have the past week sold our small farm in Oklahoma, will close on it in September and be fully moved to our new home. We have done what some people said we could not do. Something well for me to remember, and I pass it on to you.

Now new chapters of life are waiting to be written. Life is good, if a little crazy, in Alabama.

Blessings,
CurtissAnn

New Stories from the South 1992: The Year's Best by Shannon Ravenel


My rating: 2 of 5 stars
One story in here I really like-- A New Pair of Shoes that Fits Good, by Nanci Kincaid. One of the best short stories I've ever read, worth the book.

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Losing Battles by Eudora Welty


Picked this when unpacking boxes of books from the recent moves. I've started it before and put it down, but now seems the perfect time. It is like listening to my m-i-l and her family, with a few of mine thrown in. Comforting.


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Yes, I am reading three books at one time. Life is moving fast.

I still recall hearing a famous writer (Well, he was famous, but I have now forgotten his name, which goes to show how quickly fame fades.) speak at a writer's conference, and say that he always had a number of books going at one time--fiction and non-fiction. At the time such a practice amazed me. I was a one-book at a time person. I also always read each page and finished a book once I started it.

Then life began to accelerate, and so did I. This week while unpacking boxes, I came across my old edition of Norman Vincent Peale's THE TOUGH-MINDED OPTIMIST. I am having the same difficulty unpacking as I did packing--I stop to read. I am dipping in and perusing the pages several times a day.

Also in the past week, I began minding my two-year-old grandson, Sweetie-Pie. This has necessitated me reading THE POTTY TRAINING ANSWER BOOK. I don't have to read every page, but go right for the puzzling areas, and the ones that refer to "the difficult temperaments."

Also while unpacking, I came across a novel on my TBR list: KEEPING THE HOUSE. I have read great reviews of this book, but at this point in time it is not moving me. Such a situation can often be put down to my mood, rather than the book, which is very well written. I'll give it a few more pages, and if it doesn't grab me, then I'll put it back on the shelf for another time. Life is too short for me not to be whisked away by a novel.

It just occurred to me that in addition to those books, I have read each day: THOMAS THE TRAIN, and CURIOUS GEORGE RIDES A BIKE.

No wonder I find myself going into a room and forgetting what I came for.

We recently moved to be closer to our grandchildren. For the past week, I've been given the gift of days with my grandson, Sweetie-Pie, a very active two-year-old. I lost count of how many times I have run around outside calling his name and, "Where are you?"

In a desperate hour one afternoon, I pulled out a stack of books saved from my son's childhood and introduced Sweetie-Pie to the experience of afternoon story-time nap. I learned this from my mother in her desperate hours, and I had done the same with my son.

We had thought Sweetie-Pie too active for reading, but when I pulled out these old classics that I had read to his father, he displayed surprising interest. Snuggled down in Nana's bed, we discovered that he has definite tastes about books. He adores anything with wheels. His current favorites are 'Curious George Rides a Bike' and 'The Huffin Puff Express'. The past week, he became interested in 'Tootle', the classic Golden Book about the young train.

Today I spent a number of hours at bookstores, searching for new books for Sweetie-Pie. I am not impressed with the current modern offering. In the toddler section are shelves of board books. Sweetie-Pie has those, and he is not interested. He appears drawn to real paper books. He is also not interest in books that present photographs or drawings of letters or items. He wants a storybook, and generally one with repetitive rhythm. While he is too young for listening to each sentence, he will listen to Nana summarizing.

Have you seen the current offerings based on the popular young ones' cartoons? Sponge Bob Square Pants-- good heavens! The drawings are enough to scare a child, or at least a Nana. While Sweetie-Pie watches the cartoon, a book is a different thing all together.

Thank goodness I came upon 'Curious George and the Dump Truck'. It is illustrated in the style of H. A. Rey. Simple and understandable not not only young ones, but we older ones, too. I was delighted to find Little Golden Books still publishing. They had a Thomas the Train book with charming illustrations, not photographs as so many of the Thomas editions. And Little Golden Books still publishes old classics: 'The Happy Man and His Dump Truck', first published in 1950, and still today.

I'll let you know if these offerings meet with Sweetie-Pie's approval this week during those desperate hours when Nana very much needs to lie down in peace.