Thursday, April 23, 2009

Mary Oliver, I love you

It's National Poetry Month, so it's only appropriate with you that I post an April poem. Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets, and a friend of mine just gave me her latest book of poetry, Red Bird. Here's my favorite so far, reminiscent of W. H. Auden's "Musee des Beaux Arts":

This Day, and Probably Tomorrow Also

Full of thought, regret, hope dashed or not dashed yet,
full of memory, pride, and more than enough
of spilled, personal grief,

I begin another page, another poem.

So many notions fill the day! I give them
gowns of words, sometimes I give them
little shoes that rhyme.

What an elite life!

While somewhere someone is kissing a face that is crying.
While somewhere women are walking out, at two in the morning--
many miles to find water.
While somewhere a bomb is getting ready to explode.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


It came as no surprise that I, a wonder of a woman, was asked to be Wonder Woman in a funny video at school. I mean, what kid doesn't want to see his or her teacher dressed in fierce, patriotic, caped wonder? I sure would. And how could I turn down the opportunity to dress in costume in the middle of a day that is as far from Halloween as possible? I enjoyed going into the administrative offices asking if they had called for a super hero. And no, you may not borrow my costume.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Yard Sale Taboo

There are some items that just shouldn't be sold at yard sales: half or mostly burned candles, wet clothing, a small wooden bannister, and...certain videos. This past weekend, Phil and I worked at a yard sale for our church, which raised money for families who want to adopt but struggle to afford it. Since we love orphans and will hopefully be adopting in the next several years or so, Phil and I volunteered our services. The day was beautiful, we had a great turnout, and I didn't buy a thing, but one item begs to be documented.

I was organizing the DVDS, CDs, and VHS tapes (remember those) when I came across one VHS tape that was in a classic home video sleeve. Thinking that it might be a Disney video that had lost its case, I looked at the edge of the tape to see if it had a title. What I saw was nothing less than disturbing. There, hand written on the case, were the words "Baby # 3." That's right. In the hubbub of swiping items to send to the church yard sale, someone accidentally (let's hope) included the tape of their child's birth. As curious as I was to know whose snafu this was, I resisted the urge to bring it home and resorted to showing it to everyone I could find.

So, take a lesson from some anonymous woman with at least three children: even if you're busy being a mom to three kids, make sure you don't throw out the baby with the bath water.