Sunday, January 23, 2022

Garden Dreaming

This morning I spend about an hour and a half requesting seed catalogs and starting to dream of greener times. We got quite a bit of snow here last night and after shoveling a bit this morning dreaming of summer was just what I needed.

This past November my boyfriend and I moved into a nice house with a beautiful back yard, and I'm ready to start a garden. I drool over the fresh veggies I dream of harvesting and processing this fall, but the sparkle this morning comes from all the colors and flowers I'm imagining in my backyard!

I do have some priorities though:

1. Crocuses. These are already in. I planted them in late November. It was almost too late, but I did it anyway. These come up as the snow melts and if you plant them directly into the lawn, they can be the best little bits of joy before you can really spend the entire day outside without getting a chill. Don't worry, by the time the grass is high enough to mow, they should be done blooming. Mom and I planted bulbs on a hill to one side of my driveway which seems fitting as I helped her plant a bunch in her yard earlier in the fall. I'm looking forward to this bit of color come spring and adding more next fall. Someday I hope my yard will look like my grandmother's. Full bloom at the first sign of spring with grass to follow only after these small hardy flowers have had their say.

2. Asparagus. This is the best spring vegetable. It is crisp and wild and tastes of green promises when plucked in the early spring when everything else is still just emerging. Asparagus also takes something like five years to propagate in a garden setting. I want to get it in now. The truest form of setting roots and settling down as I have to trust the plant to take its time, and I have to trust myself to be here when it's finally ready to eat.

3. Rhubarb. I'm a true Wisconsinite and I feel it is necessary to have a clump of rhubarb for at least one pie or crisp in the spring. I would also love to start making a shrub to enjoy all year round (I fell for Siren Shrub's short release rhubarb flavor). This is a nod to my youth, in which I was the one to insist on making a crisp each year because this flavor is unlike anything else and handling the stem and leaf was just too much fun.

4. Zinnias. These are my favorite flower. They bloom around my birthday and just keep blooming with all sorts of beautiful colors. They grow well in containers, and they are something I have planted from seed even when living in apartments, but I can't wait to expand my planning this year. You can never have too much color or too many zinnias.

The rest will come. I'm sure there will be tomatoes and zucchini. I've already ordered sweet pea flowers and I'd love to try my hand at dahlias and ranunculus and so much more! The four above though are my promises. The pinky-swears I made to myself back in college when I didn't even have the space for a container of vegetables. These four plants in my garden mean I have found myself a home.

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Obsession



Scour
trip
no matter.

Halt!
was that?
...no.

Grow
Stick
Pinecone
Leaf

That?
Yes!

In the ground:
Subtler, 
smudged in the underbrush.
Small this time of day.

Picked:
Texture-hollow inside
distinct groves in the cap-done.

Pick one
and a second.

More scouring
back to the path.

So much for being too early.

Monday, March 21, 2016

Whatever May Come

Somedays the words            jump

       One Place
                                               then
                                                                                              Another.

                    They need to be
                                                          walked

            more often.

                                 Let the energy-
                                 The words
                                                           form            half-realized revelations.


Other times the words sludge.
    They creep around corners
or
stay back in shadows.
They play a game of catch
                                 or tag
    without predetermined boundaries
or fair play rules.

I should have practiced more.


Today they come slow.
Wrong.
Misfitting.
Scribbles as one becomes another.
      Both wrong.
Not what I wanted.
Not welcome.


Yesterday they didn't come at all.
I sat calling into the great white etherial space
without response
not even an
echo--
to remind me I was there.

I should have waited.


Somedays it's easy.
Somedays it's hard.

I try to be the constant.
I sit here.
Everyday.
Pen at the ready.
Date at the top.

Ready for the strike.
The lumbering trod.
Ready for the edge of precaution to catch
the wind of inspiration.

Ready.
Persistently Ready.

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Tattoo

It peeked out from behind her ear from time to time. More often in the summer when the the wet air would encourage even the most modest or cold blooded to throw cultural expectations to the wind.

Some asked. Others stared. Few really knew or understood.

It was the best of her - lost. She had felt the pain in her soul and needed an outward sign. A physical manifestation.

It was a feather. Light and breathable with the ability to carry multitudes. Unique and scientific. Art and structure. Everything.

There were days she forgot. It has been a long time after all, but a love like that never really leaves you.

It pierces your soul with the ink of unspoken words.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

My Collection.

You come to me at the end of your journey.
Your poor, your tired, your huddled masses.

Barcoded
       Folded over
                 Worn
                         Written on
                                  Stamped in
                                           Left to rot

Discarded.


Today, I seize your well-loved spine and
pull you out to rest on a
hand-stained shelf.

You'll fit right in,
next to the others in this collection
of multi-colored ideas.

Soon-
I promise to turn your welcoming pages.
Learn your secrets.
Smooth your wrinkles.
Hear your story.

I appreciate those that came before me,
and the bit of their story they left behind.

You come to me well traveled.
Be assured.
I'll read your verses-
                                            In time.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Because Love Withstands

[Unedited Writer's Notebook Entry 1/14/16]

Is there a calculation for the time in a person's life when most of the culture they consume (books, music, movies, etc.) is made by people younger than they are? For that is when you have truly aged.

Is there a consolation for the time in a person's life when they realize most of the culture they consume (books, music, movies, etc.) is made was made by dead people? For that is the moment there is true, introspective, grief.

Upon Alan Rickman's Death.


Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Looking for a Friend


[Edited Writer's Notebook Reflections from December 1, 2015]

I sat in a room, coming near a year to date, when David asked, "What are you most excited for in your classroom when you have your very own?"

I knew my answer immediately. I wanted the Feminists' classic and repeated call - a space, a room, a desk, of my own.

I felt I was ready to create my own space. A classroom I could call home.

I've taught in five classrooms hence and none (including the one I currently occupy) has felt as the one ought to.

I sit here now, putting pen to paper (for I did write this all down before I typed it-the importance of  drafting is not lost on me!) for the first real time in far too long to record my new ideal. The thing I never cherished while having it. I was a friend. A partner in crime. A Nick to meet me with an unabashed and unassuming smile. A Matt to bid me and a gaggle of students, "Good Day!" Someone to call me the ever-enduring "Larson" when we find ourselves far too excited about the changers we are about to make in our teaching, classroom, and selves.

The Smile.
                 The Quip.
                                 The finish to an over-enthusiastic train of thought.
                                                   The perfectly placed real-life emoji.
                                                              The next Best idea.

I desire, no, need someone to feed my passions (no matter how random, ridiculous, or ridiculously random), partner with me in projects, and simply not judge my thoughts as they come. (After they come is fine, just not in the moment.)

When I started this job I described it to those who asked (and those who didn't) as, "Someone I could grab a beer with after work." I have that now. Yet I am unsatisfied. Empty in some way. I vital piece is still missing for me.

I genuinely love my job and the ever changing nature of education, the English language, and my students. I still, however, long for someone - student or teacher - to grab hold of. To help me not simply float, but swim toward the betterment of the educational community I happen to be a part of at the moment.