My Mouse Story and Roald Dahl

BOY Tales of Childhood by Roald Dahl. I grabbed this audio book the other day at the IF public Library for one reason: To burn the name Roald Dahl into my memory.

Why? Because on a certain occasion with Mr. Pediatrician we discussed books and I was asked if about Roald Dahl and I pulled a blank. “I don’t know who he is.”

Mr. Pediatrician didn’t say: “Willy Wonka Roald Dahl, James and the Giant Peach Roald Dahl.” But he studied me like a counterfeit bill.

He didn’t realize that yes I sat entranced in elementary school looking up dreamily at my teacher while she read about James’ adventures. My hands holding my slanted head as I too fell into the book she’d opened.

So when I was at the library and I saw his book as my eyes hungrily searched the backs of books on shelves I saw the name. I pulled it and last night as I drifted to sleep I chuckled as the voice of Andrew Sachs came through my old black Sony speakers.

I held my breath for the Mouse Plot he schemed just as the elementary kids stood spell bound for mouse story.

Which I will include here, for you:

I stayed in a basement apartment in Rexburg while I went to Ricks College. The Grover’s house was located by a large field that invited little rodents during the fall when the weather cooled off.

The scratching in the walls of the house let me know that they were “gathering” their stores of food somewhere by my bedroom for the upcoming winter. I imagined that in the night they would crawl up my bed and nibble at me so I figured I’d have to put the bed on top of silver coffee cans so if they did, they’d slide back down to the ground.

Instead, I told Mr. Grover about our predicament and he set a small trap with cheddar cheese on the kitchen floor next to mouse hole. Which wasn’t like Jerry’s from the cartoon a perfect rounded top but a square opening in the floor board next to the old stove.

One night around mid-night as I was studying I heard a small: “Clap!” Holding my breathe I put the book down on my lap and sat up in bed. I knew that in the kitchen was the culprite. I tiptoed to my door and slowly opened it. I peered into the dark kitchen halfway through a slit in the door.

Sideways I walked through it and then climbed on the arm of the couch and then flicked on a light. Shiny little eyes looked at me from the kitchen floor! I raced back to my bedroom and flung the door shut while I devised a plan.

I wasn’t going to touch it. I need something to trap it. A box. I searched my closet and found an orange Nike shoe box and then went back into the living room. I grabbed the chairs from around the table and like lily pads set them in a straight line into the kitchen.

The mouse watched me expectantly and I him. Once I was closer he started to tremble.
On the counter was a generic can of green beans. I grabbed it.

Then I lowered the box and beans over the mouse. The beans were the dead weight to keep the mouse from lifting the box! Aren’t I smart?

Then I hopped each chair back to my bedroom, left the light on so he’d think I was still there and went to bed.

The minute my alarm sounded I dashed up the stairs in my pajamas and knocked on the Grover’s door. Breathlessly I told the story to the Grover’s who then accompanied me down into the kitchen. He grabbed my can of beans and with me on a chair he held his arm back as if he were going to use the can to wallop the mouse!

He pulled back the orange Nike box and there on the floor were little splats of blood and as soon as the mouse had a chance he ran into his square leaving a trail of blood and his lone leg.

The mouse had chewed his leg off in the night! I about fell off my chair. Not only did we have a mouse loose but a three legged mouse!

It took me a couple days to clean up the mess. (I kept it covered with the Nike box) And even longer to eat in the kitchen again.

A few days passed and Mr. Grover knocked on the door to inform me that he’d caught a mouse! It was dead by the time he got to it he said, but he knew it was our culprite because it had three legs and in its front two paws it stil clutched the cheddar cheese bait!

This might be more scary if you imagine me dressed up like Sally telling you it!

Where David Shannon lives

I finally found the answer to J's Q the other day. "Where does the artist David Shannon live?"

Los Angeles, CA. little Jaden. With his wife and child, Emma. AND I made the connection that he drew for the book: The Rough Faced Girl.

Good kid's book. Older kids because it involves a girl whose face becomes scarred.
Check it out.
Literally. At your library.

Sally Costume

thanks to my sister, Abby, I was able to be Sally from Nightmare before Christmas at the school today. Last year she donned the costume and I was able to use it this year. So this morning at 6 am I was up on the internet googling Sally's photo and then with my make-up bag next to the computer, I put on my face.

Mom's Avon foundation was whiter than mine so I lathered it all over then drew my lashes on my eye lids, up over the brows and left them hanging on my forehead. Foregoing the regular mascara, they really stuck out.

The only reason I am giving ANY details about this seemingly insignificant outfit, was because it scared most of the kids. I did not realize I would be such a hit when I left the house. No, I was on my way to cover for a tutor at the elementary who coincidentally had morning duty. It snowed last night and howled at the window. Luckily it wasn't the freight train wind that roared past the other day, but still. I was not stoked when I went out to start the car. Had to heat it up. So my Sally costume was interuppted with Sorels boots and as we drove over I envisioned myself like a Jane Eyre character. Jane's friend with the bad lungs and cough. Who got in trouble and had to stand on a stool in the freezing cold.

But instead of wearing a paper thin dress on a stool and glad to have a wonderful Friend like Jane, I would be outside the school in a patch work dress, a warm red wig, and sorels. Looking more solemn than Sally shivering by the drab yellow brick wall to break the wind.

No, I had no idea when I stood out there with a whistle in my pocket that the day would go like it did. The kids eyes bugged almost as big as mine as they started to pour onto the playground.

I had to reassure little ones that it was ok and show them my I.D. Despite those efforts, many just stood and stared and occassionally gave a half hearted laugh if I made a joke.

In Ms. McKenna's third grade class I helped the little lovlies finish their assignment then told a story to burn the remaining time.

It was the Twin Pug story. They were amazed. But the story telling didn't stop there (I had more time to burn). So I added the West Piney Bat story; that brought in other kids in the room not needing "special help" And finally I dazzled them with the three legged Mouse Story. You could have heard a pin drop.

Stay tuned and I may just tell you....

Elementary kids weren't the only ones to enjoy the goodness. I had to race to Wal-Mart quickly-- so Sally went to Wal-Mart. By that time I was used to wearing the costume and not immediatly worried if others fainted by the way side. Most people just smiled and nodded. One little fire man walked onto the cereal isle and slowly backed up and around the corner his eyes darting for his mom. I am sure that reinforced the "Stranger story."

Others treated it like a cancer situation. Taking the: Don't stare or make eye contact, it's rude philosophy. so I stood patiently in line absorbing the looks, waving at my brother a few aisles over and disregarding the "Do we even KNOW that person?" look he shot his wife. I hollered: "It's me, Amanda." and he chuckled.

It opened my eyes. Not as wide as Sally's but opened them. It is hard to be the center of attention if you don't want it. I know hwat you are thinking: "Don't wear something that makes you stand out." And most of the time, I don't. But sometimes you can't help it. Kids can't help it. There are simply differences. And elementary school can be the most brutal when you realize that.

Hmm. I don't know where I am going with this. But wasn't it fun to listen to me on the soap box? And, hey, it's that time of year anyway! Vote for me!

Cooking Honor

I love to cook and bake. Mainly to try out new recipes, but the other day I received a compliment that helped me to know I was on track: As the little readers were working on making an I with their play dough one said: "Mmmmm, you make good dough." As he licked his left hand while sitting in his yellow chair by his half completed letter I. (Ethan age 5)

The other night we had Family Home Evening a night each week designated for the family and teaching. We read in the scriptures in 3 Nephi in The Book of Mormon about Christ visiting the Nephites after his cruxifiction.

He blessed each of the children and then wept. We talked about why he would do that. It came to talk about some of the kids we meet at school that need his protection. All of them do, but some in particular. Then we read about angels surrounding them with fire and teaching them. I felt confident that they are there with there circle of protection every day unawares.

Then I had this confirmed in a "tender mercy" moment. I was trying to find a book for the class and found one by Tomie De Poala. Angels everywhere. It shows the "Wake up angel, reading angel, teaching angel and on and on and at the end all of them are surrounding the kids like that scripture taught.

That made me feel better about Tabitha, sweet little black Tabby who wears yarn in her hair to complete the braid for her pig tails. Who has the Day Care Provid "R". (said with a speech impediment.) and who struggles each day to tell me what a 3 and 4 is. Little Taylor who started out like a tornado with me, but who now races to me in the halls to smile and throw his arms around me.

the little latina girls who giggle when I speak Spanish to them, the kids who on a daily basis tell me that I look nice, esp if a I wear a dress.

And then 5th grade Braxton and Jorge who finally did awesome in math after we talked about the skatepark a bit.

I am starting to really care about these kids and find myself being one of the "Guarding Angels" in Paola's book.

Scaredy Cats

My neighbor's (the ones that like to decorate for Halloween) put up an Autopsy Table. So the other night I thought I should take some pics of it in the dark. I asked Jaden and he hesitated. "oh, come on, you aren't scared are you?"

I grabbed the Playmate cooler that Dad keeps the little digital camera in and started to walk up the street. J joined me, not the least bit scared.

As soon as I started to snap pics, a dog barked. I thought it was the little pooch across the street. Knowing the dog, I wasn't too afraid. I just turned back around and tried to catch one last pic. Suddenly a dog nipped my pant leg by my ankle.

I jumped out of my skin and turned to see a strange pug nosed dog and his twin on his heels. Swinging around we stomped and kicked and shouted at the duo and hauled off down the street toward home landing on the porch steps out of breath and making it indoors at break neck speed.

What Actually Happened Saturday

1. Watched 30 min of P & P

2. Did yard work at Care's folks'.

3. Wrestled a lawn mower each time I started it.

4. Borrowed a neighbor's mower

5. Filled garbage bags every couple of lines

6. Zoned into Dateline News on TLC (amazing what happens to those of us that don't watch much TV, it just captivates for hours.

7. Read Calvin and Hobbes and giggled.

What a great Day!

Saturday To Do List

1. Watch Pride and Prejudice

2. Read Bill Watterson's The Complete Calvin and Hobbes. (Three bible size volumns. Not able to read completely in one day.)

3. Help decide what color Carolyn's skin tone on Cardigan Empire.com (she is stymied she is a 'cool'. After seeing Emerald Green

4. Talk to one of my very good friends in syllibics while the kids race around.

What a Great Day!

Rockisize

Jaden is a pretty good singer and one day his Aunt Abby asked him to romanticize him with Keith Erban's 'I Wanna Kiss A Girl.' He asked: "You don't want to be 'Rockisized'?"

Today he and I rocked Kade to sleep by taking him on a walk. The stroller over the uneven sidewalk lulls the little guy to sleep. the help of his little thumb doesn't hurt either. He sucks his thumb just like his mom used to.. so cute.

I am feeling a bit defeated with the kids I help. A talk with my Aunt who teaches that age group helped. She said that it is Glacier Progress. That sunk in slow as I drove across town to the flag football game. Being a parent and helping kids learn is just that. The increments are so small but they do carve themselves out and make lasting impression. patience. I need mroe of it.

Autumn Reads

J and I read the spooky: The Widow's Broom by Chris Van Allsburg-- wish I had a handy one like it. The pics are great and if read with the lights out next to candle-light, well candles stuck in carved pumkins, the mood is quite right.




I was told to read: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. I am a few pages in and delighted that one of the author's was an editor, librarian, and worked in bookshops. PS I need an editor for my blog posts. I go way too fast and don't like the hum-drum of going through and fixing errors and underlining titles. I need someone to teach me how to use this site!

Where David Shannon Lives

David Shannon is an excellent artist and author. We got a book: Smash Crash with his signature in it. He and a couple others illustrated Trucktown and then his friend Jon S wrote the words. It is pretty cute and has several to the series.

Jaden asked where he lived last night right before bed. Apparently he most live "close by" since he signed the book for his elementary school.
Smash Crash is perfect for boys esp for first time readers.

I still need to Google where the artist lives.....

La Lectura-Case for Reading Aloud

"...the sounds of words are an important part of learning to read, but they're only a partEqually important are motivation and background knowledge (often enlarged by reading more) If you ask doctors, coaches, even probation officers about the importance of motivation for the people they're dealing with, they all will tell you it's crucial."

"Drill and skill don't motivate. What motivates fans to come back to baseball games are foverite players and favorite teams. Nobody has a favorite vowel or favorite blend. What motivates children and adults to read more is that (1) they like the experience a lot, (2) they like the subject matter a lot, and (3)they like and follow the lead of people who read a lot."

"Motivation is the kind of intangible that can be included in Einstein's observation: 'Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.'"

"Research has shown that repeated (at least three times) picture book readings increases the vocabulary acquisition by 15-40 percent, and the learning is relatively permanet."

I really enjoyed the history of the men who rolled cigars for a Cuban tobacco company hiring a person to read to them while they worked during the 1800's. "The best tobacco cam from Cuba (and the industry later moved to the Tampa area.)
The Rollers became Artisans in the delicate craft, produing hundreds of perfectly rolled specimens daily. Artistic as it might have been, it was still repetitious labor done in stifling factories. To break the monotony the workers had the Lectura read to them four hours a day.

The reader sat on a platform or podium in the middle of the room and read from local newspapers for an hour, SErialized novels the 2nd (classics like Cervantes, Hugo, and Dumas.), hour three was for political thinking and then the fourth was dedicated to Shakespeare or short stores.

One of their premium cigars was name the 'Montecristo' after The Count of Monte Cristo.

The daily reading added to the workers' intellect and general awareness while civilizing the atmospheree of the workplace. By teh 1930's the cigar sales slumped along with the Depression and the Lectura was bagged.

Protests happened but still eventually the readers were replaced by the radio like the radio has been replaced with the Walman and Ipod.

Jim Trelease continues that today many "high schools look like factories, so schools seem to me to be the perfect setting for reading aloud!"

He continues to talk about 'background knowledge' is one reason children who read the most bring the largest amount of information to the table and thus understand more of the what the teacher or the textbook is teaching . Children whose families take them to museums and zoos, wo visit historic sites, who travel abroad, or who camp in remote areas accumlate huge chunks of background knowledge without even studying." What about those kids who can't do those things?

"For the impoverished child lacking the travel portfolio of affluence, the best way to accumlate backgund knowledge is by either reading or being read to.

Politic Season

I just read Religious Freedom by Elder Oaks given recently at a BYU-I fireside.

Excellent

Here are some of my fav parts, paraphrased:

"This nation's most important export is its constitution, whose great principles stand as a model for the 'rights and protection of all flesh' "

Great fundamentals of our constitution relied on the people as the source of Government Power.

Central issue of Religious Freedom is the precious religious freedom of the people and the legitimate regulatory responsibility of the government to gaurd it.

The guarantee of free exercise of religion is fortunate and therfore important to Diligently defend it.

He goes on to say that: 'significant deterioration in the respect accorded to Religion in public life, the "vitality of it is in danger."

Elder Oaks starts out the article using a military axiom referring to battle underway: "march to the sound of the guns." then he gives an invitation to "march" with him. I got chills. Captain Moroni waving the Title of Liberty came to mind.
The battle he is referring to is the promise and meaning of religious freedom under our Constitution.

He outlines things we can do to, what he calls 5 points of conduct (which makes me think we aren't just entry level warriors, but equivalent Navy Seals. (Look into Marcus Lattrell's book it is fascinating and makes my lungs burn just reading about the work outs let alone his miraculous escape.)

1. LOVE Luke 10:27, D&C 17:30 and other scrips listed. Forgive all men, don't revile against those that revile.

2. Not be deterred into silence, Insist on our rights

3. Insist on our freedom to preach the doctrines of faith. (Then he adds a tid bit about chastity, ok a huge bit.)

4. Be wise in political practices

5. Never support or act upon idea that aperson must subscribe to some particular set of religious beliefs to qualify for office.

"Christian principles of human worth and dignity that made possible the formation of the US Constitution over 200 years ago, and only those principles in the hearts of a majority of our diverse population can sustain that Constitution today.

"Religious values and political realities are so INTERLINKED in the origin and perpetuation of this nation that we cannot lost the influence of Christianity in the public square without seriously jeopardising our freedoms.

He ends with his testimony including that of the Constitution that entails the Prophets affirmation of its significance in this day, "which as we have said, was given by God to His children for the rights and protection of all flesh."

I have a faux worn copy of it in my room and just having the declaration of Indepndence up on the wall makes me keep in mind the preserving part of Oaks speech.

so badly I want to be a part of that and the only way I can think to do that is by teaching little children about these principles, and being an example. This week was a tough one as I dealt with some kids after school that are struggling to read. One in particualar pushed me to the max with defiant behavior. I truly hope that I can learn patience to be there for these little ones in this day and age.

I didn't expect to have just one child in my life. I came from a big family and imagined raising a slew of little warriors! Thank goodness for Jaden, and I will take it. but I am glad to help kids that need the "mohtering".

We'll google it in the Morning

I get asked a lot of questions.

The last one of the night was: Mom, how do you catch a Scorpion?
I sighed and said what I always say and then forget: "We'll google it in the morning, good-night, jaden.

Well, I now know how to catch one and thought I'd spread the news.

'The way to catch a scorpion is by pinching the tip of the tail on the sides between your fingers. You can then lift the scorpion up safely. Make sure you pinch hig enough on the tail so that the scorpion cannot sting your finger. Move slowly and pinch firmly. Do not use gloves so you you have a firm hold and faster reflexes.'

Mother Pal

I think that no matter what when you are divorced and single you play a dual role.
I have seen my brother sing lullabyes (well, if you call Red Hot Chili Peppers sung quietly at bedtime a lullabye), nurture, etc. and on the flip side I have had to fill the Dad role. Like throwing the football back and forth.

Which I don't mine doing, in fact I love. But today, after being mom then being at his school and having to fill the teacher role, then going to a Football game and sliding into home base around 6pm- you are ready to call it a night. I had asked his coach what we could work on and J took me by my word. Once we got home he asked if I wanted to play football.

So I got the steaks on the grill, fries in the oven, and then played catch. I wanted to go in and make a salad but that had to wait. Honestly, I was really looking forward to the steak being done so we could eat and get him in the bath.






Then as he scooped up the football and prepared to slice it to me I heard him call me his "bestest mother pal".

Wow he is good at compliments. The buzzer signaled the steak to be turned and I, like a good coach, ordered him to run a couple sprints from one end of the fence to the other. (this was to make sure he was good and worn down for bed, too)

If I were still married an evening like tonight would have been pawned on my husband. Take the son out and play ball and I will make dinner. The classic woman/man roles that I had taken for granted. Yet, being divorced has helped me to enjoy more of the parenting spectrum. Sure, I would still take the man going over the basics of sports- but I think some of my best memories have been the long hours spent either pitching the ball to J or throwing the football.

It is hard not to plan your child's future. Tonight on the bleachers the moms were talking about how excited we are for grid kid. Especially since our offense couldn't be stopped. Last year we didnt' win a game as kindergartners, but this year they are doing amazing and have learned so much. But by then Jaden will realize that his mom doesn't have as good of arm as his friends or Dad.

But I am going to try to really soak in the time that J still wants to play catch with his mom.

Halloween

Have you ever seen Alfred Hitchcock's show The Birds? Well, before you read this next post, you need to see it for the FULL effect of fear to come over you.

Yesterday triggered this memory. I was tutoring and a story touched on Crows. So the kids got to hear about how I found out that crows are cannibals.

It was the none scary season of summer. I was walking outside in flipflops to watch my son play in the water. I heard something in the garage. But it was trapped in the corner stuck in the old basketball hoop's net. yikes. It was a cat or something.

I decided to let it be for a bit and sat in my recliner. Just as I'd adjusted my sunglasses and read half way down the page of a book I felt something's awry. I looked aroun me and there in the door way was a crow. It was looking back at me. Just standing there. I quickly moved out of the way so it could fly off. But it just walked toward the garden. I grabbed a broom to 'shoo' it away. Well, by the time I came back out a group of crows had gathered out on the power lines. Immediately I tried to get the lame one headed out of the yard and its pals started screaming at me.




I froze. J was still playing in the sprinkler and I told him to get out of the yard. At least 15 birds had accumulated on two lines, the south and east side of the yard.

I slowly started to walk back toward the garage. They quit screeching at me and turned the full attention toward the crow on the ground. Who now had my symphathy even if he was one of them.

After we were clear they started bombing the poor bird. From the window inside I watched it retreat into the Rhubarb. Yup, the rhubarb. Afterwhich the birds left. I hightailed it out there and swept it along the fence, it hopping on one foot all the while until it was out front. I closed the gate and locked it.

The birds came back and I ran inside. Even from indoors I could hear them wailing.

C-R-E-E-P-Y

After a google search I found that is typical for them to attack and eat the more infirm among themselves. Interesting....

Brand New

I have to admit my room doesn't look like this. The unmade bed, yes. Going to work on that. Add some clutter and unfiled paperwork, boom you will have it the real deal.

Nevertheless, it is so nice to have a pretty place to sit down and write. One day I will own the desk to put my typewriter on.

Rhubarb Pie

I hate rhubarb. I love it in pie. This story will be updated on here shortly

Articles

The Flood

Today a class I tutored in had gone to the museum. The Titanic is now gone and Abraham Lincoln has moved in. I can not wait to go. One of my favorite people to study. But thinking about the Titanic made me think of the time J and I went. At the end of our visit I felt like I could be a docent, and Jaden to my chagrin said in a dead pan voice, "Mom, this is making me thirsty."

Anyway there was a part in the movie that reminded me of an incident... You know when the water is rising? (most of the movie) That dreadful sick feeling? I had a similiar experience at the U of U hospital once. Or at least I flash backed to the movie.

So here is my spine tingling story about an experience at the U of U hospital. I love my Dr.'s down there, they do an excellent job. But one particular hospital stay was for the eons of time.

My Dr. had admitted me into the shared bedroom with a woman that was on her way out. With a hoarse voice she talked with her husband about him working out while she was in there and it really upset her. But then the two of them made ammends and she was gone. I thought: I have the room to myself! (It is sometimes not comfortable suffering in the presence of strangers. And they can hear through the paper thin curtains pulled around your bed!)

Then a woman in her 90's wearing a bright pink shirt pulled up to the doorway in a wheelchair. Immediately she introduced herself to me and the curtains were pulled as we exchanged greetings and talked in between bouts of pain and general malaise.

I learned she'd been in there just a few days previously and had to come back. She spotted my cotton hospital issued pants and pointing an index finger said to her nurse: "I need a pair of those. " Her nurse was on it.

Soon my room mate and I were sporting the same outfits and she was telling me about her family. Things quieted down and we rested then I had a bright light to my left. I looked over and there Mary was sitting on the side of her bed dangling her skinny white legs over the edge with her pants rolled up to mid-thigh.

"Where's the flood?" I about asked but suppressing a laugh I listened as she went into a captivation story about contamination. Little did I know that it was a foreshadow.

That night was a little more hectic. After preping for a surgery and not able to sleep, I finally drifted off into a deep sleep.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind I heard: "It is clogged."

The nurse had to help my partner in and out of the RM so when I opened my eyes, I saw her, the nurse, and her walker getting her back into bed. I saw a shimmer of light off the pool of water in front of the door. It didn't register totally but I thought: Oh, great. Hope they get that taken care of. And closed my eyes to the ordeal.

The next time I woke up I had to use the RM. I swung my legs over the side and then recalled that brain recess holding the clog comment in my mind. Uh-oh.

I looked over the edge simultaneously stopping myself from hopping off. The whole floor was shimmering with the help of the light in the hall. The Titanic movie came to mind as I looked over my options in horror.

Quickly I glanced at my bag on the floor, It was near the water. I bolted up the side of the bed grabbing it and chucking it across the room to a chair. Then I hit the orange button with the outline of a nurse on it. A nurse breathlessly walked in and I told her about the incident. She seemedin shock, too but not for the same reason. Then I recalled the reason I woke up.

I cleared the water and landed in the hall, bolting down it to the restroom. On my way back I saw the commotion going on next to our room. I didn't find out till the next day that there had been two code blue's that night. Hence the flood going un-fixed till later.

Well, UofU made it up to Mary and I and we were safely tucked in a new room with in a couple hours. But I suddenly had my own contamination story. And the next time I am in I am rolling up those pant legs, cause you never know if there has been a flood.

Re-reading Journals

I highly recommend going back and reading journals.. I picked up Jaden's to see what funny things he has said and came across a few I'd forgotten and some that are too special to share. But here are a couple:

One night he was rubbing lotion on my leg for me. He said: "Your fur on your leg is like a cucumber bullet."

There is a sign in Jaden's room that says: "Always kiss me goodnight" One night he thought I forgot and hollered to me from his room to come to do it. I told him that I never forget,kissing him when he is asleep before I go to bed. He replied: " Just don't turn me into Sleeping Beauty. Deal

Kate DiCamillo on Writing

Kate is the author of the book I am reading with Jaden the other day; The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. It was so good so I got on her site and read about an experience she had in college. She was givin the writing assignment of describing something. She left it til the last minute and then went to the store. Read her description of the homeless woman that was singing to her as she left and asked her to hand over her change. She was sitting on a bag of dog food with purple nails and a tamborine.

The teacher read it in front of a class and she was thinking she was an amazing author, the next big one. Then he asked the class why it was worth reading.

He had to answer the bored class, "It's not the reading" Kate slouches in her chair.
"The person that wrote this took the time to see the person she was describing.
That's what writing is all about. Seeing. It is the sacred duty of the writer to pay attention. To see the world.

Kate then goes on to say that during a time that she was fight despair, wondering if she had the talent to do what she wanted to do, she thought back to these words.

"I cannot control whether or not I am talented. but I can pay attention. I can make an effort to see."

Her story makes me recall being a city worker and taking care of the flower beds on Broadway during college. I was out in front of the Rio Theater, when it was still in business and a homeless woman sat down on the brick planter I was watering. It was in the heat of the afternoon, she was in dark pants, a white top. Long dark hair. Big smile. And a huge daddy long leg in her hair. I didn't tell her it was there. I was a bit paralyzed for some reason. I sat there with my hose watering the flowers and thought about statistics I recalled from a course as to why she was homeless. Went off her medication and ended up on the street? I faintly recall the only help I offered was directions to the library. But we talked and I watered and stood there in my hiking boots, tank top, and shorts.

After reading Kate's site I am going to make a better effort to see things. I go through the intersection at Wal-Mart and don't look at the people that hold the signs thinking that if I do I will end up like Liz Smart or something. I need to start offering a genuine smile and LOOK at them.