Tag Archives: write

The Darling Blouse

Each spring, as the school year came to a close, every class in the small K-12 Christian school I attended would gather on the pull-out bleachers in the gym for an awards assembly. I was finishing second grade and vaguely remembered going forward the year before to claim the “Highest Academic Achievement Award – First Grade.” I had my turn to win.

Assembly morning rolled around, and end of the year excitement filled the air. Mom came into my room to help me choose an outfit. This was unusual, for it wasn’t picture day or any other special time. Why did she care what I wore?

Oh no, PLEASE not that.

I choked back the protests that threatened to escape my lips as Mom reached into the closet and said, “Why don’t you wear this darling blouse?”

Wrong on so many levels, the first was the use of the word darling to describe a despised article of clothing. Blouse. Resplendent with buttons, a Peter Pan collar, and certainly pinstriped in various pastel shades, I hated it.

Mom loved it.

I wore it.

I’m sure it choked me.

Maybe the wraparound skirt or suede shoes or knee socks that I chose to complete my ensemble softened the blow. Maybe it was the last day of school that triumphed.

Several hours later found me sitting on the bleachers of an echoing gym waiting to hear who would receive honors this year. Maybe my stomach fluttered. Maybe I should have had a clue.

“Highest Academic Achievement – Second Grade, Julie Kozel.”

I rose and began the long trek down the bleachers and up the aisle between folding chairs filled with beaming parents. Ascending the steps to the stage, I shook the hand of the rotund principal who handed me a plaque, all the while looking sweet and smart in my darling blouse.

Writer Girl(s)

I’m pretty sure that if we lived in a time where vocation was based solely on family heritage and calling, maybe by castes or clans, then ours would be that of the creatives ~ the musicians, writers, jesters; those and the teachers.

Today was the last for picking up my daughter of ten from school. Tomorrow eleven arrives with all of its angst and disappointment over the laptop, chromebook, iphone or at least POD, that will not be wrapped as birthday gifts (though I have promised to keep receipts to return the disappointments in exchange for cash to build her stash to purchase the desired electronics).

My girl is creative. She is a writer as demonstrated by the big stack of books that she was checking out of the middle school library as I waited for her out in the car. It only took one mistake of going in to fetch her over the loudspeaker that time to learn that when she is in the library she will come out when she gets all of her books. Today I got that part right.

A Big Stack of Books

My girl is a comedian. This is demonstrated by two things in these pictures. First, the Rules for Writers book on the top of the stack above is sub-titled A Brief Handbook. She found that hilarious, which is why it is on top. Second, the version of A Wrinkle in Time that she chose to finally read because we rave about it so much, but no matter how she tries it’s just hard to get into is. . .

A Wrinkle in Time

. . . the graphic novel version, in case you can’t read the fine print.

I love my funny writer girl.

I also have a bloggy girl and a college girl who sent me this in a message today, Yesterday someone told me that I stress too much over grammar that normal people don’t understand. Simple sentence and word structure-type things they said college seniors learn in high English classes. I credit you. Haha! It was a funny thing to hear.

I was at a poetry and story reading coffee house with my fourth-grade girl tonight.

Yes, this is a family of writers and creatives with lots and lots of words. That and laughter. And some yelling and strife thrown in for good measure. Real life.

Enough

Three and yet four
Always one thing more

Wonderful
Trembling
Small, and yet wise
Stately while walking
Truth underlies

Give and give
It’s never enough
Such is life
It’s made of this stuff.

~curious? Proverbs 30 explains~

Broken

Broken but not beyond healing
Though sometimes in the shatter
It’s hard to keep singing

In the spirit’s struggle, the mouth often joins
To pour out hasty unkind words
At the wrong time
In the wrong place.

Oh for the wisdom to quietly hold back
To process in a place of safety
Trusting fully in the Lord for justice.

~broken reflections on Proverbs 29~

Friends

I won’t boast about tomorrow.
I’m not even sure of today,
But I’m tempted to want to figure it out;
To make all the hard stuff go away.

It’s the friends that enter in with me
Who remind me that they are near
Who faithfully sharpen and faithfully stay
Who help when the path’s not that clear.

My heart is often reflecting
What’s going on in my life,
And the things that come out
And the things that I see
Aren’t pretty but laden with strife.

So I’m walking and working and trying
to stay on the path and believe
That attention and knowing and trusting
Will bring provision
and offer reprieve.

descending path

~reflecting on Proverbs 27~

Folly

This is a haiku,
But it’s not about nature.
It’s all about fools.

So much to take in
About fools and their folly,
I’m ready to sleep.

Is there a difference
Between sluggard and weary?
I certainly hope.

Everything’s backwards
In the land of the foolish.
I am not joking.

Go read for yourself.
Spend time in this chapter~
Proverbs twenty-six
.

We all show up here.
In one form or another,
We’ve been there before.

~Proverbs 26~