Title

How I wish I had something to say.

We Believe

Eleanor and Emeline wrote to Santa. They put out cookies and milk for him to eat and carrots and sugar cubes in to-go bags for the Reindeer. The gel eye-pack was placed around the milk to keep it cool... Eleanor is always concerned about things spoiling.




As you can see, Santa did eat and drink and if you look closely, you can see he answered a question on Eleanor's letter.








Emeline hung around the tray for a while taking in the idea that Santa Claus had stood in this very spot and accepted her gift of food and drink. I believe, too, Emmie.

Chicago

It WAS windy.

From Allison

The Big Heart

"Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold."
–From an essay by W.B Yeats

Big heart,
wide as a watermelon,
but wise as birth,
there is so much abundance
in the people I have
Max, Lois, Joe, Louise,
Joan, Marie, Dawn
Arlene, Father Dunne,
and all in their short lives
give to me repeatedly,
in the way the sea
places its many fingers on the shore,
again and again
and they know me,
they help me unravel,
they listen with ears made of conch shells,
they speak back with the wine of the best region.
They are my staff.
They comfort me.

They hear how
the artery of my soul has been severed
and soul is purting out upon them,
bleeding on them,
messing up their clothes,
dirtying their shoes.
And God is filling me,
though there are times of doubt
as hollow as the Grand Canyon,
still God is filling me.
He is giving me the thoughts of dogs,
the spider in its intricate web,
the sun
in all its amazement,
and a slain ram
that is the glory,
the mystery of great cost,
and my heart,
which is very big,
I promise it is very large,
a monster of sorts,
takes it all in–
all in comes the fury of love.

Anne Sexton

Boys!

I am the driver of three little girls. Two belong to me and one might as well. They are all just burst out of school for the afternoon. I am singing to the radio tune. I am tuning-in to the talk in the backseat.

"Boys are big, fat, and stupid."

I cannot let this slide.

"Um, excuse me, but we don't talk like that. Boys are not big, fat, and stupid. What if some little boys somewhere are saying the very same thing about girls? Let's try again."

Eleanor huffs. "Okaaaaay. Boys are just stupid. And then they grow up to be big, fat, and stupid."

The mood I am in, all ideas about what should be aside, I can only mutter something about "you know that is not funny," raise an eyebrow, give her the mom look, and manage to keep my smirk in check. For the moment, well said, Eleanor. May you and I come to terms with boys very soon.