Monthly Archives: June 2018

A (late) Slice #amwriting

Slice of LIfe Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

I don’t spend enough time at the library. Today I have just about an hour while the kids are at their camps, so I decided to go to my local library.

I walked in, paid the fine for my overdue Guys and Dolls DVD (which the kids didn’t even watch yet… so we’ll have to take that out again. . . ) and then stopped and looked. I could go straight into the bright and cheery children’s section, or up the stairs to the adult section. I only paused for a moment, but it was a tough decision. Whenever we do venture to the library, it is always to the children’s section, and I often yearn for the quiet of the adult library. But, I want to write and all of my current works in progress are children’s books. I imagined myself with a stack of mentor texts and editing inspiration. But the quiet lure of the upstairs library won.

Upstairs, I was faced with another choice. To the left was the young adult section. That’s where my 6th-grade teacher heart wanted to go. But, all my kids are at camp, and I’m an adult so I turned right.

I used to work in a library. It was a quiet job, shelving books. I thought about those days as I walked through a few of the bookshelves, looking for the right table. When I was 15, working as a page, I longed to read the books I was shelving. Sometimes I’d sneak a few minutes behind a shelf and read a chapter or two. My biggest dream though was to check out patrons’ books at the circulation desk. Now they have scanners and self check-out computers so I will never get the satisfaction of putting the library card and checkout card  in the machine and hearing that “ch-chunk.”

But, at least I can sit in the library, and listen to the quiet, the sound of my laptop keys as I type, and the intermittent sounds of people picking up books, flipping pages to decide if that will be their next read. I can open my works in progress and wonder if one day I’ll have a book on one of those shelves. I can risk a little hope that one day a young library page is shelving my book and decides to sneak behind the stacks to read a few pages.

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A Slice of the Summer Porch

Slice of LIfe Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

 

I don’t mean to be overly dramatic
about brief summer moments
But, I hope I will always remember
Reading on the sunny porch —
Looking over my book, to see you reading
Looking behind me, to see you reading

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I don’t mean to be overly dramatic
You both stopped soon after the timer went off
(But not the second it went off, so that’s a win)
It’s not like you want to stay out here,
reading in the summer heat all day
(like I could)
But, you both said you enjoyed your book
You both stayed until after the timer went off

I don’t mean to be overly dramatic
about brief summer moments
But, I hope I will always remember
Reading on the sunny porch
with you
I hope I will always remember
Looking over my book
Looking behind me
to see you
reading on the summer porch
with me

Oh, my E. A bedtime snapshot

Slice of LIfe Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

Oh, my E.

E is finishing second grade, and almost every night he is up later than his older brother and sister. While I tuck them in, he is in his room with legos or a book.  This week he is listening to Endling: The Last. (Great book, please read!)

When I walk into his room to tell him it’s time for bed, and he tells me he’s almost done with the chapter. “2 minutes!”

Of course, I let him finish his chapter. This is a week spot for me.

Time to clean your room. I'm reading. Ok.
Time for bed. I'm reading. Ok.
We aren't buying anything at the store. How about this book? Ok.

Once his chapter is over, he choses a Calm app sleep meditation, and we snuggle in. Some nights he falls asleep in just a few minutes, and other nights, we have a little chat.

Last night he had a few things to say:

“Mommy, if you are measuring something and it is exactly half, do you say the number before or after?”

. . . Nothing like a little rounding conversation with your 8 year old, at 9:45 at night. . . 

“Mommy? You might actually still be alive when I’m 60! You will be like 90, and 60 is actually kind of old. I mean, 80 is when people really start to get old. And wrinkly.”

. . . 

“Mommy? I wish it were my birthday.”

. . .

“You know how some people say Halloween is their favorite because they like the costumes? That’s not true. They like the candy. Halloween is my favorite because of the candy, I have to admit it.”

. . .

“What does relish mean?”

. . . I think I might be falling asleep at this point, but I manage a definition. . . 

“I relish relish!”

. . .

And moments later, he’s asleep.

Oh, my E.