Irene Latham's Blog, page 42

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: MUSIC

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.
I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?
For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on The Butterfly Hours tab above. 



This month's prompts include: mail, moon, mouse, moving, museum, music, music lesson, name, necklace, neighbor, nightgown.

MUSIC
<!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } A:link { so-language: zxx } </style> </div>--> <style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } A:link { so-language: zxx } </style> --> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WzNWDVXf_A..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="371" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WzNWDVXf_A..." width="237" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif , "arial";">This prompt is coming a day after I listened to Matthew Winner's latest <a href="https://lgbpodcast.libsyn.com/kyo-mac... Book Podcast</a> about </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Operatic-Kyo-M..." style="font-family: sans-serif, Arial;">OPERATIC</a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif , "arial";">by Kyo Maclear, illustrations by Byron Eggenschwiler– which, among other things talks about “the soundtrack of our lives.” So this has been on my mind!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Music has always been a vital part of my life. From my father singing to me "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjOAs... Night Irene</a>" or the family listening to the Goofy Gold albums (which contains some really racist songs)... Most memorable from my childhood, probably, are church hymns -- “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdmgp... Servant Song</a>” still has the power to complete wreck me. Also, church musicals: THE MUSIC MACHINE or DOWN BY THE CREEKBANK. I can remember blasting the stereo with this <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EESP... Morning”</a> song from BULLFROGS AND BUTTERFLIES to wake my parents on Saturday mornings. My mother's favorites like "Amazing Grace" and  “Morning Has Broken” were big influences. She was also a big fan of my piano recital song “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MNbxO...” by Hagood Hardy (which I can still play from memory). Then there were the boys in 8th grade singing to me "Come On, Irene" to the tune of "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASwge... On, Eileen</a>" and my early teen obsessions with Prince. :) Also Christian artists like Carmen, Sandy Patti, Amy Grant... When I was a senior in high school “The Time of Our Lives” from DIRTY DANCING was the prom theme. Later, songs from PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, movie soundtracks... when I met Paul “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nl5Uo... You Been</a>” by Kathy Mattea (one of the sweetest love songs ever). </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How we had the harpist play “Ode to Joy” instead of the traditional wedding march might show my love of Beethoven's Ninth. (This love also shows up in one of my 2020 books... more on this soon!)</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">These days, I love the music my son Eric makes and also my Spotify playlists. Paul and I love going to concerts together -- I recently shared about <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/2019... Seger</a>. Also, I'm into Bach's cello suites and whatever song I happen to be learning on the cello at the moment... today, Bach's Fugue in C, for our summer string orchestra concert (coming up in just a few weeks)! This post really could be endless!</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jC0ShZ4Jvu..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jC0ShZ4Jvu..." width="213" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">And, this year, as part of my daily reading, I picked up <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Year-Wonder-Cl... OF WONDER by Clemency Burton-Hill.</a> The July 8 piece is Joplin's <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQDg2... Rag,”</a> which is new to me. I am learning so much about composers, and music, and also finding new favorites along the way.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">In my next Butterfly Hours post, I will turn this lens to music <i>lessons</i>, of which I've had a few -- but not nearly enough. :)</span></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"></span>

Movie Monday: The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project - MOVIE

<!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> <br />--> <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="font-style: normal;">How's this for timing?! Today's prompt is "movie" and it falls on a Monday... and I have a new movie to share as a "Movie Monday" post. :) Read on!<br /><br />For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Butterfly-Hour... BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pbJRbgZiKH..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="231" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pbJRbgZiKH..." width="213" /></a>I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";">For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/p/th... Butterfly Hours</a> tab above. </span></span><br /><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><br /></span></span></div><br /><div style="font-style: normal;"></div><br /><span style="font-family: roboto, arial;">This month's prompts include:</span><span style="font-family: roboto, arial;"> </span><i style="font-family: roboto, arial;">mail, moon, mouse, moving, museum, music, music lesson, name, necklace, neighbor, nightgown.</i><br /><b><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></b><b><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">MOVIE</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I have so many movie memories! Watching <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/2016... TEN COMMANDMENTS</a> over and over again with my siblings... also MARY POPPINS (and using umbrellas to try and "fly" off the back of the couch), THE SOUND OF MUSIC, <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/2014... HOBBIT</a>... My mom taking me – just me – to see THE BLACK STALLION. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dkRBXN2-n0..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="338" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dkRBXN2-n0..." width="216" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">in a funny coincidence,<br />we are playing<br />the E.T. theme as part<br /> of my summer string<br />orchestra concert!</td></tr></tbody></table>Seeing E.T. as a family (all 7 of us at a small theater in historic downtown Covington, LA). Waiting in line for to see STAR WARS (somewhere in central Florida. I was young!). Seeing DIRTY DANCING (and many other movies like RAMBO and ROCKY) with church friends... and also with my father (at either Roebuck or Irondale theaters which no longer exist)! </span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Then there's our weekly date night tradition throughout our marriage, which started with <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/2014... MISS DAISY</a> on our first date (1990) and has brought us to many many movies... including our yearly tradition of watching <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/2018... A WONDERFUL LIFE. </a>These days our adult sons often accompany us to the movies. </span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yD7w-PC0Le..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="268" data-original-width="182" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yD7w-PC0Le..." /></a></div><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">And now: Movie Monday! Most recently we did a TOY STORY marathon before going to the theater to see <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1979376/... STORY 4 </a>(Trussville – our new “home” theater). So much fun! I love this series and can relate to those fears of being set aside, forgotten, outgrown... and also to the desire to do my job for my kid... and the pangs we all feel about growing up... and of course I have not just the child-me lens, but the parent-me lens. We were talking about which was our favorite TOY STORY movie, and I think for me it's 3 (though how can you not pick 1, when it started it all?!). And 4 is pretty awesome. I love how Woody was able to reinvent himself at the end... to every thing there is a season. There are many ways to love... beautiful and funny and tender, all!</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">One final memory: Our oldest son Daniel, who had some speech issues early on pronounced Toy Story “Tee Stee.” Adorable!</span></span></span></span></span></div><br />

Poems Inspired by THE LOST WORDS

Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect for Roundup. A few weeks ago Mary Lee was gushing about THE LOST WORDS by Robert Macfarlane, art by Jackie Morris -- a book I also love! (You can read my blog post here.) Mary Lee also shared that Spell Songs, a (magical, gorgeous!) musical companion to THE LOST WORDS will be released soon. I can't wait! And it inspired me to share with all of you a few LOST WORDS -inspired poems I wrote last summer -- a couple of them for others, as part of Tabatha's Summer Poem Swap. Enjoy!


Skunk

Stealthy as moonlight (and as predictable),
you saunter past blackberry brambles,
all regal swagger and peaceful gaze

Keeper of night,
you wear your stripe like a scar –
just part of who you are

Unfazed by fox, you rough your fluff,
release a warning scent
before lifting your tail in a blaze of battle –

No need to spray when wily fox turns tail,
leaps to safety (anything to avoid being musked)
while you forage for frogs and mushrooms

Kingdom of kudzu awaits your return,
soon welcomes you back to greentree hollow
where you curl into a furrow to nap away daylight hours
- Irene Latham


OWL
– for Tabatha


O heart-keeper, night sweeper,
sing to me of forestmoon
and joystruck mice --
Wing me to a world of leaves and summerlight,
     where words are starstorms dappled by sweet breezes.

Love me with your abiding SwapMama magic,
     swaddle me forever in your poem-feathered nest.
- Irene Latham

MONARCH
- for Michelle

Mother of summer, you belong
in a Grimm museum:
Only you carry both
fireball sun and inky

Night in the gossamer stitch
of your wings. Only you

Arc dizzily from milkweed to
milkweed, across three thousand

Roiling green oceans, your feet
coated in sweetdust to power you

Home to Mexico – before frost turns
you tipsy, transforms you to stone.

- Irene Latham

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: MOON

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.
I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?
For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on The Butterfly Hours tab above. 



This month's prompts include: mail, moon, mouse, moving, museum, music, music lesson, name, necklace, neighbor, nightgown.
MOON
full moon over our lake
(when we were out
night fishing)No clear memories are coming to me for this one... but a LOT of fragmented bits. So I've decided to share a most recent "moon" bit. Paul and I have seen Bob Seger in concert a number of times, and one lyric that always always stands out to us is from "Shame on the Moon."
"oh, blame it on midnightooh shame on the moon"
I mean, who says that? The moon is generally portrayed as wise and gentle and all-seeing... and then... THIS. Turns out the song was originally written and recorded by Rodney Crowell, whose storytelling-song style reminds me of Johnny Cash. I love the way this music make me feel. I mean, the moon has secrets, right? She is an enchantress...I am enchanted.

A Little Bit of Gee's Bend in my Back Yard

As many of you know, I love quilts. I particularly love Gee's Bend quilts. So, a few months ago, we had the brilliant idea to transform this RV shed (located in our back yard with no RV in it)...

... into a work of art. I wasn't sure where to find an artist for this very BIG project, so I started asking around. I got a few names -- AND THEN I walked into Clay Library to pick up some book from the hold shelf. Above the circulation desk was a new painting of the old (very charming) house that was the Clay Library until very recently. I asked who was the artist and was told, "it's Jenna, and she's setting up for an event in the other room." Jenna, who works at the library! Right then I talked to Jenna to see if she might be interested in doing our mural, and lucky us, she was! And so began the process of determining exactly what we wanted on the shed.

Jenna came out to look at the space and gave us some ideas -- her comment, "I had the measurements, but it's SO BIG!" But she wasn't scared off, she was ready to go! She told us her idea to incorporate the tree into the art and soon gave us a preliminary sketch to which we gave our comments.

Through that process we figured out what we really wanted -- a little chapel, sunflowers, a cat, and... Gee's Bend quilts on a line! I fell in love with Jenna's sketch, and we were off and running! Jenna's father (also an artist) helped her get started. It was sweet to watch them working together! Here's a few pictures of the process:

late April 2019



mid-May 2019

early June 2019






Jenna on the scaffolding,
working on the chapel -
early June 2019
close-up of Jenna's rendition
of a quilt by Annie Mae Young
and finally.... here's the gorgeous finished mural... didn't Jenna do an amazing job?!
close -up, mid-June 2019
(quilts from L-R after Annie May Young,
Lola Pettway, Mary Lee Bendolph)
our backyard!
Jenna Clark,
mural artist extraordinaire!
We feel so lucky to get to enjoy this beauty every single day... I told Paul now we can never move. :) Thank you, Jenna.. .and thank you, Gee's Bend quilters! xo

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: MAIL

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.
I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?
For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on The Butterfly Hours tab above. 

This month's prompts include: mail, moon, mouse, moving, museum, music, music lesson, name, necklace, neighbor, nightgown.


MAIL
Since I moved around a lot as a kid, and we never lived near grandparents or other family, mail has long been a highlight in my life. I can remember jotting off a note to someone, then waiting each day for the mail truck to come... the mad rush to the mailbox...peeking inside and grabbing hold of the stack (if there was one)...shuffling through the letters, and what joy upon finding my name on an envelope! – and what disappointment when I didn't. I have subscribed to a number of mail-order things over the years – books (and more books!), dolls, recipes, scrapbook supplies – it's always a happy day when something surprising or expected shows up in the box.
The internet, of course, has added to the mail delight by bringing me many friends who live far from me. Also, because we live in a rural area and don't get to “town” all that often, I really depend on mail these days for both basic things (Hello Fresh meal service) and fun things (the new paddleboard). I know Amazon has its haters, but I love Amazon for how easy it makes some of my shopping. And that got me thinking... how does the mailbox feel to be such an essential part of connecting people?
A Message from Your Mailbox
Give me cool, smooth envelopeswith loopy, uneven handwriting,
show me colorful stamps with inksplotched postmarksfrom faraway lands.
Come, tug open my doorso I can see your eyes widenas you whisk out 
what's waiting for you
or hear your breath hitchas your fingers linger over a letterwritten and sealed with love –
may your mail enjoy a smooth journey.And when it arrives,may it stitch invisible threads
that neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of nightcan ever dissolve.

- Irene Latham

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: LUNCH (and a halfway point observation)

<!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> <br />--> <div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Butterfly-Hour... BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.</a><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pbJRbgZiKH..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="231" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pbJRbgZiKH..." width="213" /></a>I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/p/th... Butterfly Hours</a> tab above. </span></span></span><br /><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">This month's prompts include: <i>hospital, hotel, humming, ice-skating, illness, kitchen table, knife, laundry, library, lunch.</i></span></span></span><br /><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>LUNCH</b></span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFCW37iSzf..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="640" height="237" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFCW37iSzf..." width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">you can buy this on <a href="https://www.ebay.com/i/372667601270?c... />Visiting the site reminded me<br />of another memory:<br />I often brought for school<br />lunch a thermos of <br />chicken noodle soup.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">For a time, just after my parents' (first) divorce, we qualified for the free lunch program. Was this a big deal to wee me? I don't know. I do remember some self-consciousness about it, because the free lunch kids got in a different line than the regular lunch kids. But then, I was self-conscious about many things. I didn't see myself as “poor.” I just hoped the lunchroom would be serving something I wouldn't mind eating. For the vast majority of my school years, I brought my lunch to school – mostly in a plain brown paper bag. But I do recall a Little House on the Prairie lunchbox at one point. What was almost always inside? a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">In high school I have some traumatic lunch memories – one in which all the kids at the table where I usually sat were away for the day (a field trip, maybe?), and I didn't want to sit all alone, so I decided to join some kid who rode the same bus as me. It did NOT go well, and was instead one of those heartbreaking times when taking the risk kind of backfired. But I survived, and I learned something: Not only is it okay to sit alone, sometimes it's better. </span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>I'm at the halfway mark now with this memoir project, and it's is teaching me that there are some things I've experienced that I am not willing to really recall in any great detail.</b> I am fine leaving the fuzzy lens on for many things – which means maybe memoir writing is not for me. Or maybe I'm just not ready. I want – <i>need</i>– to focus on the positive. This doesn't mean I am denying the negative things happened, just that for now, and maybe forever, I choose not to dwell in that space.</span></span></span></div><br />

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: LIBRARY

Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit for Buffy's Blog for Roundup. Today my memoir prompt inspired a trio of poems, so you'll find those below. Meanwhile I have been revising a poetry collection coming from WordSong next year -- whew, it's been exhausting and exhilarating! More on this later. Meanwhile...

For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.

I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?
For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on The Butterfly Hours tab above. This month's prompts include: hospital, hotel, humming, ice-skating, illness, kitchen table, knife, laundry, library, lunch.

LIBRARY
I do have a wonderful library story about a time when a library pretty much saved my life (you can read the post here). And my most favorite library story of all time has to do with Papa's rocking chair, which you can sit in at the library in Port St. Joe, FL. 
Two favorite reading/library books are READ! READ! READ! by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater and Lee Bennett Hopkins' anthology JUMPING OFF LIBRARY SHELVES. 
I've also written quite a few reading poems, like "Dear Reader," (from the perspective of a book!) and "Fishing for a Reader," which I often ask kids to help me act out during school visits. My poem "I Give Thanks for Trussville, Alabama," which appears in J. Patrick Lewis' THE POETRY OF US anthology features a library. I have been a reader as long as I can remember -- such an important part of my life!
So to write a fresh reading/library poem is kind of daunting. Here are 3 efforts, with, of course, the fresh-est one being the last one (though it's still drafty)! Which is a reminder to me: Dig deeper. Keep going.

Welcome to the Library
Come – inhale the inkblossom air,
feast your mindon fact and fantasy.
Escape the confusingeveryday world,
settle onto the magicalcarpeted valley
found between book mountains –
where the treasureat the end of each story
is a different you.


At the Library
Inkblossom air,forest of books –settle onto the carpeted valleyto read, listen, or simply just look.



A Message from the Library Mouse
I live in a city of storieswhere books skyscrapethe walls.
I live in a city of storieswhere adventureswhisper their call.
I live in a city of storieswhere I feast onpictures and words.
I live in a city of storiesthat turn me to wizardor zombie or bird!
I live in a city of stories.There's no place I'd rather be.
Today my story is about horses – come, won't you ride along                       with me?
- Irene Latham

The Butterfly Hours Memoir Project: LAUNDRY

<!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> <br /><br /><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">For 2019 I'm running a year-long series on my blog in which I share my responses to the writing assignment prompts found in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Butterfly-Hour... BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.</a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pbJRbgZiKH..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="231" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pbJRbgZiKH..." width="213" /></a>I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on <a href="https://irenelatham.blogspot.com/p/th... Butterfly Hours</a> tab above. This month's prompts include: <i>hospital, hotel, humming, ice-skating, illness, kitchen table, knife, laundry, library, lunch.</i></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>LAUNDRY</b></span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">The laundry of my childhood lives in stacks on the family room floor. With a family of seven, it seemed the washer and dryer were always rumbling. When the clothes were dry, Mama would carry them in a plastic basket to the family room, where she would sit in the floor and fold, creating a stack for each person. </span></span></span><br /><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">One particular memory: my very large father had very large tighty-whitie underwear, which looked more like dingy kites than something tight and white. Mama taught us to fold it in thirds – left side folded to the middle, right folded to the middle, then the bottom folded up, forming a square.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">In my father's last years, when he was living alone in North Dakota, he didn't do laundry – he took it to a dry cleaner dirty, then picked it up clean. He seemed to see underwear as disposable – whenever we traveled together, he would just go to Walmart and buy a new pack of underwear for the trip. He also always bought a new pack of those traditional white handkerchief's and carried one with him everywhere. Those, too, I think, were disposable in his mind. Because his weight fluctuated throughout his life, he accumulated clothes in various sizes, not knowing which size he would need at any given time. </span></span></span><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-APF9ttYRz-..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-APF9ttYRz-..." width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Papa with his too-big pants.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">The last time I saw him, one of the tasks of my visit was to help him get rid of some clothes (in sizes that he knew he would never wear again, as he had dropped a lot of weight in the last year of cancer). I was shocked by the sheer number of dress pants he owned – many of them never worn and still in their original packaging. (I suspect he forgot what he'd bought, and then he'd forget where they were, and then he'd need them right away, and so would buy new ones.) </span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "roboto" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: small;">My father also didn't do dishes, but that's another story! </span></span></span></div><br />

When In California

There's nothing quite like California, is there? Paul and I flew into San Francisco (though we were supposed to fly into San Jose) late late LATE... grrr, the "getting there" part was not so much fun! But the next morning we were off and running.

crossing the Golden Gate bridgeWe landed at Fog Harbor for lunch, a seafood restaurant at Fisherman's Wharf. We really didn't intend to go to Fisherman's Wharf, because it is always so crazy-crowded... sigh. We enjoyed a lovely lunch beside big windows overlooking the bay, with a gauzy view of the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.

We have loved visiting Muir Woods in the past, so we thought, why not? Well. Once we crossed the Golden Gate, we knew why: these days one has to reserve a time to visit Muir Woods. We had not reserved a time, and we did not want to wait around for the late afternoon openings. So we turned around, headed south toward Campbell -- not Saratoga, our original destination, because a few days before our trip the Saratoga Inn sent a note to say their A/C was not working, due to some renovations. So... we hurriedly booked something else. The hotel was fine, but the big win of the day was supper at Bella Saratoga, where we ate outside on the veranda as a guitarist played beautiful songs, like The Romance Song. Perfect, perfect!

Parajo Dunes
(Watsonville, CA)We spent the next morning exploring Saratoga, which has a delightful main street of shops and restaurants. We ended up at Bai Tong, a Thai restaurant for lunch, which might be the best Thai I've ever had. (Yes, for me and Paul, the vacation is all about the FOOD!)
Then we headed further south, through Santa Cruz, where I wish I'd gotten a picture of the Adrienne Rich art (she lived there), and on to Watsonville, which turns out to be the heart of the agricultural belt, with acres and acres of strawberry and cherry fields. When we arrived at our Parajo Dunes condo, we opened the back door, and there was the Pacific! We took a beach walk and napped then headed to the Fish House for supper.

A deer and her fawn
came to watch events
at the 2nd holeThe next morning we woke early for the drive to Pebble Beach, to attend the last day of the 119th U.S. Open! It was a bit chilly, so we had on jackets and thick sock instead of the hats and sunscreen we'd anticipated. We parked at California State Monterey Bay and rode in with the other thousands of golf fans to buy merch and watch our favorite players. We DID see all the players, up close! But it was hard to watch much of the game, just due to the sheer number of people in attendance. It was CRAZY. Fortunately Paul bought us tickets that included the Trophy Club, which was worth the money for the bathrooms alone. :) We walked A LOT. And I was wearing the wrong shoes... shoes I last wore to Universal Studios a few years back. They were fine then, but I guess my feet have changed, because I was really putting on a brave face by the end of the day.  Those shoes went right in the garbage can when we returned to the condo.

After all those PEOPLE, we were excited to head east to Mariposa, the little Yosemite gateway town before you get to the Arch Rock Entrance. We stopped in to eat lunch at Jantz Bakery in Merced before making the rest of the drive to Mariposa.

butterfly mural in MariposaI LOVE Mariposa. (Did you know Mariposa means "butterfly?") The first time I stayed there was with my father in 2014, and I just found it the perfect blend of quaint shops and good food and history... and close to the park! Paul and I stayed at Fifth Street Inn, which is a great choice if you decide to go. We ate at Savoury's one night (not our favorite), and Charles Street Dinner House (delicious steak and lobster for 2) the next.

We'd originally planned to eat at the Majestic Yosemite Hotel - we made reservations on the first day they open reservations for that date (like 3 months ahead of time) -- but wow, was the park busy! Bumper to bumper traffic, long wait times... so we cruised the Valley, ate our boxed lunches (from Jantz's in Mariposa -- oh, we wish we had a Jantz's here in Alabama!) under El Capitan, walked through the Grand (a building I love! And which made me choke up, remembering the last time I was there with my father.), shopped a little, and then decided to head south to see the Sequoias -- only traffic was completely stopped, and there were reports of 2-3 hour delays, so we canceled our dinner reservations, turned ourselves around,
 and got out of there!

I don't know about you, but I go to nature to enjoy NATURE. Quite. Solitude. Not to be "stuck" between thousands of people! Sigh. On our way out we did really enjoy the crazy white water and thick waterfalls (thank you, snow melt!) And you know, we've seen it all before. So it wasn't heartbreaking or anything to leave. Just kind of ... disappointing.  A great example of how flexible one needs to be when traveling, and how important it is to listen to one's heart... what do YOU want to do? It's okay to stay, it's okay to leave. Just be honest with yourself, and everyone will enjoy themselves more.

The travel day home was BRUTAL, with waiting and delays and luggage disasters... we didn't get back to our home until 1 am! The next morning we took a walk on our quiet, secluded road and marveled at how lucky we are to live in a place where we enjoy nature every single hour. Yay for HOME!

California sunset