Cool evening
Sky still aglow
Children playing
in the school yard
Teenagers tossing a
frisbee in a parking lot
Two women walking
their tiny dogs a block away
A small evergreen showing off
little brown cones that will be seed.
Cool evening
Sky still aglow
“Treasure comes in many forms.”
~ S.A.Rodriguez, Treasure Tracks
Continuation of a walk
through life seems obvious.
After all each child is
born to do just that.
How we teach our children
to walk is important.
And when we have grown
past our adolescent years and try
to balance our tentative adult steps,
we will want to fly like the geese in the fall,
or race like a thoroughbred to ‘get there’
with spirits indestructible and brave.
And so we are and can continue to be throughout
our lives no matter the heaving and buckling of the road
as long as we remember the baby steps of our youth.
“Perhaps it was not a destination I sought but merely a continuation.”
~ Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous
Three score and sixteen years passed; within them
the curtained rooms
of childhood,
opened doors
of adolescence,
many stair steps
of an adult world
confusion in an uncertain race
too fast to understand life’s twists and turns
until knowledge blossoms from it all;
accepting the past as past;
standing firm in today.
“In all beginnings dwells a magic force
For guarding us and helping us to live.
~ Hermann Hesse, Stages
Author’s note: blogpost inspired by Stages by Hermann Hesse
As an adolescent, I begged my father for
a beautiful gold coat without a collar
Winters in Saskatchewan not
a good pairing for such a coat
but, like any “good” father,
he bent to my pleas. I wonder ~
What would have been sacrificed?
Today, as an adult, I didn’t have to beg
I became my own parent, deciding
What money would I spend on myself?
Did I want the best backpack for
my slight frame and sturdy shoulders?
Will it hold my book, my pens and lunch
colour only the last part of my decision,
but very important to my creative side.
In the 1950’s the Eaton’s store
had a limited selection of goods.
Today, over 60 years later, in a
cavernous store only one of many
In a Mall with rows and rows of
clothes, shoes, backpacks, gadgets
and more and more and more….
Childhood pleas continue
Parents keep bending to pleas
Despite budgets and cost
Choices are more and more and more
Eaton’s and Sears are distant memories
The fun and expectations of catalogues
morphed to online shopping so we can have the more.
“As long as you think more is better, you’ll never be satisfied.”
~ Richard Carlson, Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff
Kya wasn’t always alone in the marsh. She hadn’t always been called the Marsh Girl. There had been family times, her mother painting, cooking and laughing, her brothers and sisters playing in the surf. One by one they all left her except her father, an abusive man who suffered from war wounds. He drank too much and became violent but did have unpredictable spells of sobriety. Kya started to be completely alone when he disappeared for weeks on end. A little girl, she scrounged in the marsh, dug mussels on the beach and barely survived. But she did.
The first person to leave was her mother. Kya was only six years old. It wasn’t until this child was an adult did she understand. One brother, Jodie, stood by her the longest, teaching her the ways of the marsh and about the birds. On one of his rare times of sobriety, her father taught her more about the marsh. He was even kind, almost good to her. When she was ten years old, he too disappeared. She kept away from town, afraid of people, hiding in the ferns and trees when the truant officer came for her. Desperate for food, she dug mussels and took them to the only man she knew and trusted. Jumpin’ always took whatever she brought, gave her money. He and his wife Mabel cared for her from a distance, knowing that she was as shy as a deer in the marsh.
Kya, at that young age, was curious about Tate, a boy from the town who often fished in the marsh. Their first communication was by bird feathers and tokens. He left her a note one time, but being unable to read, she did speak to him. Tate taught her to read. A relationship began to blossom, until he went to college. He did come to see her as often as possible but slowly he left her too. Growing into womanhood, another boy she had seen since a girl came into her life. But Chase Andrews merely wanted to be ‘the first’. Leading a double life, in town a hero; in the marsh with Kya, a pseudo-gentle lover.
When the book opens, his lifeless body is found at the base of an old fire tower by two boys who recognized him. Speeding to the sheriff, a murder investigation was opened, followed by a trial. The sheriff became suspicious when there were no footprints, no fingerprints and one bit of red fluff on the victims jacket. The remainder of the story is a trial in a town already prejudiced against ‘the Marsh Girl’. No spoiler alert! There are plenty of suspects and few pieces of real evidence. Only one person ever knew the outcome.
Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens brought to mind, the tone and depth of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. This novel will be a book that I will reread. Probably more than once. I have yet to see the movie, but I will be seeking it out!
“Kya laid her hand upon the breathing, wet earth,
and the marsh became her mother.”
~ Where the Crawdads Sing
Title: Where the Crawdads Sing
Author: Delia Owens
Copyright: 2018
Publisher: G.P.Putnam’s Sons
Type: Novel
Format: Paperback
ISBN-Paperback - 9780735219106m
ISBN-Hardback - 9780735219090
LCCN:2018010775
I would love to go back in time. Jump over all the scheduled adult years, leap over the tumultuous adolescent years to the rich soil of new life. Why? Just so I could feel that world of constant curiosity. Just so I could recall learning about the world around me. Just so I could hear myself ask why the moon is round on some nights and why it changes its shape? Why the grass is green and the daytime sky is blue? Why I cry when I’m sad and when I’m hurt? Why I laugh when I'm happy and when I get tickled? It wouldn’t be long before I’d be ready to leap forward in time to today, bringing with me the wonder and happy of new life.
“A child can teach an adult three things:
to be happy for no reason,
to always be curious,
to fight tirelessly for something.”
~ Paulo Coelho, novelist
“Lemonade, girls?” She gave them their drinks, then turned away from them and continued peeling potatoes. Silence. Dez slouched into a chair, slurped her lemonade. “Don’t slurp!” Emelina rolled her eyes and sipped her lemonade. “See mom, she bosses me about everything.”
“Yes, dear.” Their mother put the potatoes in the oven. “I’ll leave you girls here while I go to Fresh Seafood for tonight's salmon. Please check the potatoes in twenty minutes and give them a stir.” She exchanged her apron for a light sweater, picked up her purse and went out the door.
~~~~~
Dez remembered that afternoon. “She was being too bossy. She even handed me a spoon and told me that I should stir the potatoes.” She was on her way back to Hartley to an interview for a part-time job. It was a temp job for receptionist placement. Not her favourite type of work, having to dress up for every shift, but it paid pretty good. She’d have some benefits with it so she wouldn’t have to depend on her sister for everything. It had been too easy too fall into that trap. “Listen to yourself! ‘A trap’ sounds like Em’s got evil plans for me.” Arriving in Hartley, she pushed it all out of her mind. Her interview was more important.
~~~~~
Emelina stirred her coffee til it was cold. “I suppose mother walked out on us because she was tired of our fights. She never said anything except to check on the potatoes and stir them.” She made a face when she sipped the cold coffee. Pushing it aside, she flipped through the pages of an old photo album. “There you are, mom and dad.” She ran her fingers over the glossy black and white. “I remember that afternoon, mom. I think it may have been the last real fight Dez and I had. We’re in another conflict now. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Dez has gone off to a job interview in the city. She does live here on Estate but I don’t know…….I just don’t know.” She closed the album and slid it back in the bookshelf.
~~~~~
“That’s what peace is, right? Postponing the conflict until
the thing you were fighting over doesn’t matter.”
~ James S.A.Corey, Drive
~~~~~
Frustrated and disappointed, Em just stared at her phone. She had promised Dez she’d tell her more about the so-called history of the jogging track. Knowing her sister, she wouldn’t be upset.
“Em! Did you talk to Jeremy last night like you said? He’ll be out here next week, right?….What. You didn’t get to talk with him?” Her sister was quiet. “No, I called him this morning and just listened to the racket he was making. He was racing off to work. He won’t be out next week. All their schedules have been changed because one of the main doctors is off with Covid.”
Emelina was right. Her sister was barely fazed. “Not a problem, Em. That gives us more time to……..:” Annoyed, she cut Dez off mid-sentence. “Time for what? Walking about the track again? Seeing what ‘clues’ Michael might have left? For who?” The more she talked the angrier she got. She felt like she was in the middle of something that she hadn’t asked for. It had just been about what Dez had shown her. The balance sheet for the orchard and apiary looked like they were going broke. That took her to Digby and then to Mr. Jordan. All of a sudden, she was listening to Michael’s will again, and for the first time. “Let’s just leave it alone Dez. Let the ten years run out and let Samuel take over that land.”
Dez felt her stomach tighten. Everything had been going so well for over two years. She was starting to feel like she had a family again. She’d given up her apartment for Martha’s duplex on the Estate. She had no more control out here than she had sharing their bedroom when they were teens. She had no savings to speak of, no real job and her sister was paying her rent. If she couldn’t make the orchard and apiary pay, those would be lost to her too. Her mood had sunk to match her sister’s mood. She was crazy to think about a Walking Writing workshop, “I’m sorry, Em. I guess I just got too excited. I’m going into town ~ I’ve got an interview for a part-time job this afternoon.”
“Dez, let me just live with all this for a while. I just don’t know what we’ll be able to do and I do want the two of us to work together on it. I don’t want our old teenage rivalries to interfere. After all, I think we’ve both come a long way. This last two years especially.”
Dez had turned to leave. Stopped and turned back to face her sister. “You’re right, Em. We need to get past this. Work it out. Take some space.” She could feel her mood lifting. “I will go to that job interview. You need to take whatever time you need. This is your property………” She held up her hand. “No, Em. It is. We can work together with ideas. My work is to earn some money and pay my way. I won’t be a drag on your life.”
“And I won’t be the bossy big sister I was so long ago.”
~~~~~
“Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer.”
~ Louise Gluck
A Teenage Legacy
Their excitement settled to a low simmer, Emelina and Dez decided they should have a late afternoon snack before talking of any more plans. Dez called Cook from the car. “Just some fruit, cheese and crackers. Thanks Cook, we’re almost at the Estate. See you soon.”
Silence in the car…..for a few minutes. “I wonder if Digby knew about that strange provision in Michael’s will.” Em sat forward, grip-tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, I’ve always wondered about that track.” Dez rolled down her window, not looking toward anything specific, barely noticing the passing countryside. “It’s not odd, Dez.” Dez turned to her sister. “Of course it is ~ at least it’s always seemed so to me. I like it, it just seemed odd.”
“You’ve never been on other estates before, have you, Dez?” Keeping her eyes on the road, Emelina freed one hand to pat her sister on her shoulder. “Well, if it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have been on any estate! Not exactly my circles, Em.”
“I suppose not ~ here we are!” Parking by the kitchen door, Emelina picked up her briefcase and stepped down to the gravel. “Come on Dez, we shouldn’t keep Cook waiting. Maybe she’ll stop and have tea with us.”
~~~~~
“Thanks, Harold. I’ve just heard them come in. I can field any questions they may have. If there’s anything I can’t answer, I’ll send them back to you.” James Digby pushed the ‘End Call’ icon on his tablet. Tidying his desk, he decided to leave for the day. It was a bit early but it would give him an opportunity to talk to the sisters on his way out. They were already sitting down to a tray of apples, watermelon, grapes, and two cheeses. “Digby! You’re still here. Come join us ~ that is if you have time. Is Martha still here?” Emelina was glad to see him. She could broach the subject of Michael’s will with him. She needed the informality of the kitchen after being in Mr. Jordan’s office. She also needed to hear the calmness only Digby could provide and she suspected Dez did too.
“I’d love to join you. I have a few minutes before Martha finishes up. She’s still in her office.” He poured a cup of coffee and sat down with the sisters. “Who’s still in her office?” Martha’s question did not need answering. “Come Elizabeth, lets you and I get some tea and let them talk. If they need us, we’ll just be at the other end of the table.”
James nodded his thanks at his wife and turned to his employer and her sister. “Well, ladies, how was your visit with Mr. Jordan?” Emelina looked up at him. Dez took more grapes. “It was informative. But why don’t I remember any of the history? The will didn’t really say much about the jogging track, except that it shouldn’t be destroyed in any way, but kept in good repair. Then it said, ‘if after ten years it has not been used, give Samuel Forrester use of the land in service of the estate.’ Michael and I dated when we were in high school. I have vague memories of being out here. I don’t think the track was here then. What can you tell me, Digby?”
For the next hour, Digby talked. Emelina asked questions. “Do you remember the track meets at Hartley High, Miss Emelina?” Digby wasn’t sure where to start. He had almost forgotten. He never used the track himself and seldom even saw it, so it was really quite out of his mind. “Of course I remember the track meets. Michael was the only reason I even went to those competitions. He didn’t even know I existed for the longest time. I finally got on the cheerleading squad just so I had an excuse to be on the same track when he practiced.” Her face flushed, she got up for tea instead of coffee. Dez brightened up. “I remember you cheer leading ~ sparkly pompoms, your cutesy uniforms and always talking ~ Michael this and Michael that, muscles, curly hair. It almost made me nauseated. Go on, Digby what about the jogging track.” Dez was grinning from ear to ear. She was hoping to hear something more than just the jogging track.
“I think it was in Mr. Michael’s senior year.” He hesitated. “No, dear, it was the year before. His father surprised him with the jogging track. Don’t you remember?” James looked at his wife and smiled. “Go ahead, dear. You know the story much better than I.”
Martha moved down to sit across from her employer. “Well, Mr. Michael, and you I suppose, had gone to the mainland for some big track meet. In that week, old Mr. Beaufort had a work crew come in and put in a regulation jogging track. He had watched Mr. Michael training on the lane, on the roads into Hartley. He and Samuel’s father had talked about where best to put it. I would see them walking all over the estate whenever Mr. Michael was at class.” She took a breath. “Listen to me going on about it. You take over, James, I’ll go home and make us some supper. ~ Elizabeth, are you ready to go? I can walk out with you.”
~~~~~
“I’ll be home shortly, Martha. I just have one or two things more to tell Miss Em and Miss Dez.” He stood, shared a kiss and hug with his wife. “Good night Elizabeth.” He sat down again. “What else can you tell us, Digby? Why would Michael want that included in his will?”
“I don’t know that I can be absolutely certain, but I’m certain he had plans for it. Past high school, I mean. For the first few years after high school, he let the school use the track for training. He kept it ‘running ready’ ~ that’s what he called it.” He hesitated “You know, Dr. Jeremy may know something about any plans Mr. Michael may have had. He was out here visiting and used the track from time to time. You know they were best friends?”
“Yes. They were, weren’t they!” Emelina was excited. “He’ll be out here next week on his break from the hospital. I’ll call him tonight and jog his memory. Digby, you get home to Martha.” She turned to Dez. “Let’s walk the track this evening while there’s still light. We’ve just jogged before, but we can walk this time and see if Michael left us any clues.”
“It is human nature, it seems, to have the desire to leave a legacy,
to leave something behind, to be remembered.”
~ Mackenzie Finklea, Beyond the Halls: An Insider’s Guide to Loving
