Blue Yonder

April's Contest Winner Is...

Well the moment has arrived...

Time to announce a winner of the very first, Blue Yonder First Monday Contest.

It was a tough call. You people are so talented, so resourceful, so crafty!

You know, back in the day, as Deb so perfectly said, people had to "use it up, wear it out, make do or do without." So, I have to say that now that we find ourselves in a pretty affluent, single serving, take and toss society, it is heartening to me to see people reusing, repurposing and reinventing not because they have to, but because they choose to.

They do it because it's good for the earth, and also because it's good for the pocketbook. They do it as a creative outlet, and they do it because they are hungry for lives that have more soul, more meaning, more purpose than one can find on a discount store shelf.

From the incredibly prolific to the incredibly talented, from grilling to gardening, from things you wear to things that warm your babes, things for carrying books, things for storing (books, clothes, sewing bits and wood too!), things to inspire and things to remember, and things that are just plain cool , you have all just floored me with your creativity and resourcefulness.

So really, I'm not trying to feign graciousness or anything like that, I'm serious - it was REALLY hard to decide on a winner. It was SO hard, in fact, that I'm going to have to go with two winners:

First, hats off to an incredible little family of repurposers. Mama Miguette gives sweet new life to forgotton things. She's full of soul and spunk and it flows out into the the lovely things that she makes. It was her husband though that put me over the edge with
this. Their sweet dog , Ripper, died and of course, left a hole in the family. So Miguette's husband, Peter, made wrist cuffs for himself and their son Colby out of Ripper's collar. I think it's pretty fantastic, this idea of having a little bit of a a beloved pal to carry with you.

Colby is learning to ride a two wheeler now, and I noticed in the photos that he has his cuff on. I imagine that if Ripper were still with them, he'd be chasing behind Colby, worrying over him. It makes me glad to think that in that little strap of leather on his arm, there still remains the love of a faithful friend.

Miguette, send me your address, and I'll get your goodies shipped off!

My other favorite repurpose was
this one from Elissa (which I do think counts, because it was her idea - only, Elissa, I might have to insist that you share your goodies with your folks :-). The idea was this: a pew from the church she grew up in, the very same that her father attended as a boy, became a lovely bed for her and her husband. I love this so much because a) it was born of necessity and b) because its a little piece of her family's history given new life.

I imagine her dad swinging his legs in that pew as a boy, then her, as a little girl, sitting there, with her hands in her lap and her head bowed. I think about her parents sawing and hammering, sanding and staining and all the while thinking of their little girl, and wishing her well in her new married life. I think about little feet running down the hall to jump in that bed with mama and daddy... new prayers of thanksgiving being offered up from that pew. I think it is really such a perfect testimony to the power and richness of family history.

Elissa email me all your info, and I'll send out a prize package containing I don't know what, but most certainly something good to read, something old to love, and something yummy to eat.

For everyone else who played along, I want you to know that reading all of your entries has been so wholly inspiring. Thank you, truly.

And now on to MAY!!!

I know that I said I would give you all the details of the new contest, but... well, it occurred to me that it is not Monday, and this is the Blue Yonder First MONDAY Contest. So, I'm gonna hold off until, you guessed it, Monday!

Until then, I'm going to steal the wonderful closing words of Garrison Keillor:

"Be well, do good work, keep in touch."

Serenade

You know, some folks swear that a little chit chat goes a long way with a plant. They will testify that ongoing discourse with say, a Scabiosa (an actual plant, not an ingredient in a Hogwarts herbology course), will actually cause the plant to grow faster.

Well I don't know about all that, but I do know this: these chickens are growing awfully fast, freakishly fast, and I'm thinking that it COULD, potentially, I mean just maybe, have something to do with their exposure to fiddle music.

He's so pleased with himself, having mastered Mary Had a Little Lamb and moved on to the real live fiddle classic, Boil 'Em Cabbage Down, that he felt the pull to serenade his girls.

They were duly impressed.

You know, according to the findings of some other young chicken lovers, rock music causes chickens to lay at an increased rate, but stresses them out. Classical music is optimal, increasing production but relaxing the birds at the same time. Apparently Reggae music causes a drop in production.

All I have to say to that is, "Well, duh!" We all know what reggae music leads to! I just want to know if there was an increase in feed consumption when they listened to Bob Marley. Do you think chickens get the munchies? I'm just sayin'....

Night Songs

I hear an owl calling "who?", outside my window tonight, for the first time since,
I don't know, a very long time... since I was walking the floor, months ago with a sleepless toddler.

Where has he been, this owl? Did he fly south for the winter? Or has he been here all the while, as that toddler grew into a boy? Was he standing still and silent, composing his night aria, waiting for the flowering time, the moment for singing?

Does he feel now a fluttering in his chest, a new spring upon him? Did he feel the time had come? Or does he sing only to let me know that this square of land is his, his mother's before him, and hers before that?

I hear a train too. Far off, but not so far. Some call this a lonely sound, but it does not seem so to me, more like a mother come swiftly to kiss a brow, damp with unkind dreams, and whisper, "I'm here. I'm here."

But then, I suppose that sound has carried too many loves too far from home, the whispers changing - "You're gone. You're gone."

Lonely. Yes, I hear it now.

I hear a creaking metal bed down the hall. A little one, turning in his sleep and pulling the covers more tightly around him, he cares not where the train goes or why the owl sings, but only what tomorrow brings.

And I hear prayers lifted up, my own,

"Train don't take him too far.

Owl sing him into many springs.

Little boy, may your sleep always be so peaceful as it is this night."

Hope for the Best

Found this today on Writer's Almanac. I love it so much. Aunt Cleone is, without a doubt, a relative (or three) of mine. Maybe you know her too?

Poem: "Her Legacy" by Barbara Bloom, from On the Water Meridian. © The Hummingbird Press, 2007.

Her Legacy
For Aunt Cleone

After the divorce,
she sent me twenty dollars
tucked into the folds
of her crinkly blue stationery
written hard on both sides.
No use crying
over spilt milk, she said,
still, what a shame. There
never had been divorce
in the family. By then,
I had a child
and could barely remember
my aunt's voice, but her certainties
were plain. No leaping
off cliffs for her.
The whir of the sewing machine,
her shelves lined with canned goods
straight from the garden,
that was more her way. Her long letters,
full of other people's news,
never mentioned
my father's silence,
or her own lack of children.
From a quick how are you,
she'd go right to
the surgery of a neighbor
I would never meet,
or what a nice visit
she'd just enjoyed with Elsie.
Who was Elsie? I never exactly knew.
But, after all, weren't we all part
of the great messy human family?
It swirled around her kitchen,
where she tied a fresh apron
around her waist,
and carried on.
She would hope for the best,
she concluded before signing her name.
Use the money
for something special.
Something just for you.

***

Oh to write that well, that wholly, that simply...

Floating Along

Hey y'all!

Sorry to have disappeared, but with spring upon us, what can I say... we've been outside, eating popsicles, getting dirty, riding bikes and low and behold, SWIMMING!

The pool has officially opened, and that means that my children have officially lost all interest in anything that does not involve as little clothing as possible and a side of sunscreen, but make it snappy if you please because the water is CALLING! They near about vibrate while I lather them up, sidling ever closer to the edge and saying, "okay, okay, okay Mama, that's good. Now can I go?"

I've been doing a little swimming of a different sort.. wading around chest deep in new(ish) writing endeavors. I'm so caught up in the lives of my characters that I can barely think of another thing.

To give you some idea of how spaced out I've been, I actually stopped at a stop sign today and waited for it to turn green! Sad, but painfully true.

So, say your prayers for me will ya? A mama lost in her own world of plot and conflict + three little boys attempting underwater synchronization, well, it can get a little dicey.

I'm just saying, it may be a little bit quiet here for a bit while I gather my wits about me (and wash a million and one towels). Then again, my husband swears I even talk in my sleep so, who knows, I might rattle on just as much as ever.

And just one more thing before I bid you a happy weekend:

Time is running out to enter April's Blue Yonder First Monday Contest. Only seven days left!

Alright now, go and romp in the sun some this weekend, will ya? Don't forget the UV protection!

(and yes, I realize that my photo hasn't a thing to do with any of this rambling, but dang he's cute, dontcha think? I wanted to fold him up and put him in my pocket, but settled for taking his picture :-)