For My Grandmas

I was looking today, for the elusive creamer that has us all wondering. I went to the box. You know which one. I looked. I took out each piece of fragile memories, unwrapped them, set them carefully down and moved onto the next. I looked in every corner and under every plate or cup where it could be hiding. I still didn't see it. So, to help the creamer live on in whatever box it is currently lying I wrote it a poem.

The Creamer

Lying dormant
in a box
I wonder about you.
Where are you?
You and your iris print
and herring bone pattern,
aged depression glass
textured in stripes
"Check inside the soup tureen."
I think she is telling me,
but I look,
a teacup lives there.
"Look in the tomato box."
I search and find her smell
wrapped in a tea towel
barely holding a sugar bowl.
"Did you move aside the pitcher?"
"Yes, yes I did."
"Look again."
I look, only to find a ladle.
I wonder about you,
missing your matching dishes
lying somewhere
dormant
wishing for some cream.

Writing Space

About two years ago I created a nice writing space for myself in our basement. It worked for a little while. I used it frequently and then it became a place to "put" things. Kind of like a treadmill becomes a clothes hanger. I got overwhelmed with the space and gave up. I started writing on my couch again and it worked, sort of. There are just so many distractions and it becomes hard to focus and not get pulled in many directions.
This past weekend my husband stayed up until 2:00 a.m. cleaning off his desk and began to purge our basement. It started a pattern for the week of purging and sorting. It was good. We have continued to organize and I started to see a new space in the basement that could become my own. I needed a pretty space that was large enough for my books and desk but away from the toys and play that is bound to take place.
Last night I spent several hours moving furniture, sorting books and searching for artwork. I created a nice spot for myself once again and I am more determined now to keep it that way. I hope to write many good slices, poems, blog posts and maybe someday, even a book in this spot. One can dream.

Now I just need a comfy chair!

Identity

I just finished a Google Hangout with three of the five other writers at Two Writing Teachers. As we talked we circled around purpose, audience, independence but what really stuck with me was the word, identity. I think it was Tara who brought it up. She talked about a writer's identity. I thought back to my life as a writer. I don't remember myself feeling like a writer as a kid. I wish I had, but there was very little encouragement and even less flexibility to write about your own stories. I wonder what they would have sounded like if I had been able to write them. I will never know. It's kind of sad. I hope that my students save all their journals and booklets to cherish, even if just for a little while. I hope it helps them find their identity as a writer. I hope just being in my classroom with hope and encouragement helps them find their identity, their voice, their inspiration. I know I have found that in this writing community. It is what got me started on a writing journey and what anchors me to do this for the long haul...the rest of my life.