Both of you girls are asleep in my bed in the middle of the day.
I remember being your age and visiting my mom's house, the house that I mostly grew up in, my home which is no longer there, it's been demolished along with the huge, tall mulberry and palm trees, the huge front and back lawns (our house sat way back from the street) and huge oleander bushes taller than the house framing both sides of the property all the way to the back alley, all gone and paved over with smooth black asphalt for Perini Construction's parking lot. All gone, everything.
I remember having lunch and then lying down on my mom's bed to sleep, mid afternoon, the bedroom dark because of the aluminum foil taped to the large bedroom windows and the floor to ceiling curtains pulled tightly shut. The bed was soft, the pillows too flat, I used to tease mom about her awful flat bed pillows, and her room was as dark as a cave in the heat of the Arizona summer. When I was young it was not unusual to pass by homes where a couple of windows were foiled over to reflect the hot bright sunlight.
I remember lying still and drowsy in the dark, falling asleep in the afternoon half listening to small children playing just on the other side of the oleander hedge, and hearing the mourning doves cooing. Every time I hear that bird call I think of my mom and seeing my two girls asleep in my bed made me think of her, opening her bedroom door, looking in on me.
"The Mourning Dove is the most common and widely occurring game bird in Arizona:
1. My habitat is open woodlands and agricultural fields with trees.
2. I am very common in many backyards.
3. I make a plate-shaped, flimsy nest in trees or on the ground.
4. I walk along the ground picking up seeds and grain that is not harvested.
5. I am 12 inches from head to tail.
6. My wings whistle when I fly.
7. I have a small head and large brown body.
8. I make a "coo, coo" sound.
9. People think of me when they think of love."
-quote from Lesson 2, Twelve Birds of Tumacacori.
Dove Picture from the Arizona Game and Fish Department, www.azgfd.gov
Picture of my mom's house
Monday, March 22, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
book inscription
I finished reading "The Postmistress" by Sarah Blake last night and I was looking at the books in my bookcase and pulled out "the Riddle of the Wren." I carried the book over to my night stand lamp for a better look, flipped the cover open to the title page, and discovered my own handwriting in bright red ink, "Dec. 2002 Merry Christmas Alyssa XXXOOOO love, Mom and Dad. She would have just turned 13. There must have been a reason I selected this particular book as a Christmas gift, I always pick out her presents with her in mind and try to make them special for unwrapping and being happily surprised. Did I read about this book online at NPR books, or see a review in a Barnes and Noble Christmas Catalog? The front cover says "Winner of the World Fantasy Award." I went to Amazon.com moments ago and read this was Charles De Lint's first novel and has been out of print for years. The book has a courageous heroine, Minda Sealy, who has terrible nightmares. The story combines mystery, fantasy and a quest. The reviews are mostly 5 stars and I have discovered that Charles De Lint is a prolific and much loved writer, check out his personal entry at wikipedia. I must have made this choice for a reason, I wish I could remember. The back spine of the paperback is seamless, she hasn't folded the pages open and read this one yet. It is here with me, waiting for her.
By the way Michelle, I underlined this quote from "The Postmistress" (one of several I marked actually) thinking of us:
"Late afternoon had climbed up the rod of the sky and hung there, the air clear and sharp, the blues of the water and the sky playing against each other, reflecting and resisting like sisters."
By the way Michelle, I underlined this quote from "The Postmistress" (one of several I marked actually) thinking of us:
"Late afternoon had climbed up the rod of the sky and hung there, the air clear and sharp, the blues of the water and the sky playing against each other, reflecting and resisting like sisters."
Sunday, March 7, 2010
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