Sunday, January 1, 2012

The Quaint Things in Life

Photo credit: Keith Bloomfield
To my mind this very well may be the quaintest my life has ever been. Quaint, in the oddly picturesque or old-fashioned charm sort of way. I am indeed living small. I've had my days living large (and hope to one day do so again), but for now small is all I need (if not all I want). On these rainy days a single trip to the grocery store, the library, or just the front yard seems the highlight, an event to get dressed for each morning. My day is notched by meals and snacks, diaper changes and naps, hallway hockey and sofa bed snuggles. And it feels alright for this is how I remember my early childhood to be; predictable in all the right places. This allowed me, and in turn, allows my kids, to focus on the little things in their little lives, making mere chestnuts mighty in their minds.

This is a poem about my quaint beginnings based on memories and family lore.

Boulder Creek

rocking chair
record player
woodstove
typewriter

garden hose
swing set
sandbox
playhouse

black bears
apple orchard
waterfall
birch trees

ice skates
snowmobile
woodshed
toboggan hill

homemade
make believe
go fish
popcorn

pigtails
onion soup
bunk beds
gumboots

sundeck
clothesline
broken leg
nap time

tricycle
birthday
Radio Flyer
driveway

gooseberries
greenhouse
paper dolls
pencil crayons

barn house
plywood
staircase
childhood

1 comment:

  1. I love this memory of Boulder Creek. Those were wonderful days.

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