Gratitude and the Poem Launch Party
2 May 2026 01:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wayfaringwordhackThese days in France are so precious. I feel like we are outside of time, in a way, outside of various spheres of madness laying hold to the world at large. Though my husband is in another country, through multiple video calls per day, the separation is not insurmountable or as difficult as it could otherwise be.
I don't know how--or if--they are being engraved in my children's memories, but I believe and like to think they are. Life feels so, so good with an amazing confluence of circumstances that make it so: beautiful weather, good reading material, fine health, spring's beauty, children's joy in what we are doing, kind friends...*
There have been lots of hard conversations about life, what is next, how the kids feel about that, sibling squabbles, potentially stressful logistics and so on, but it is just normal life. which I feel so grateful for when "normal" should not be applied to what other people are having to live through these days.
We just finished Swallows and Amazons, which my kids loved. Just ordered the 12 book series. They are older books, and my kids thrilled to the independence the kids had, the kindness, the morality, the imagination, the lack of modern-day drama and strife. Altogether wholesome.
While we don't have a sailboat or a giant lake at our disposal, we do have a kayak and lovely neighbors who let us have access to their pond. So the other night, we headed out at sunset so the kids could paddle around. I played around in a sketchbook with acrylics and colored pencils, enjoying the moment while the kids made believe and planned for life in a new locale where adventures seem highly possible.
The kids continue to enjoy poemcrazy, and last night we created an "event" as suggested in the practice section of chapter 12. While painting at the pond, I had the urge to make a found poem that I would release upon the waters. I didn't end up doing it but decided to invite the kids to do it with me and make a party of it. The Poem Launch Party was born, and shall--memory-willing--become an annual tradition. Let everyone else celebrate Labor Day.
Sprout and I made our poems using words clipped from the copious stash of The Guardian's "Review" journals left here by the previous homeowners. Farmer Boy created his own poem, based on "texel" (a breed of sheep), one of his words from the wordpool he made using the dictionary. Ti'Loup riffed off words found on the cover of poemcrazy itself. We also wrote down five things we hate about the world or dislike in ourselves with plans to immolate them.
I made egg salad and baked a cake using some of the preserved gooseberries from last year. I gathered candles and the boys their jet lighters, while Sprout packed drinks and gathered the poems. We went to a closer pond--one we don't have express permission to visit--for our party, so that we wouldn't run the chance of disturbing our neighbors if they had friends over for weekend fishing as they sometimes do. On the way down, thanks to the lowering sun, Sprout glimpsed wondrously crimson baby cones of what I think must be a Norway Spruce.
Our party was lowkey and fun, with one moment of hilarious excitement when we all hid in the tall grass after hearing a horn honking behind us (remember what I said about no express permission? 😜). We ate and launched our poems and immolated all The Bad.
I collected words for it all into my poem book while the boys played with wax and Sprout cloud gazed. There were mountains and valleys of cloud-dappled sky to behold.
On the way home, we were followed by a crone or a dwarf. One can never be sure in the gloaming.
________
* Don't get the wrong idea of some quiet, tranquil flow of ever-and-always peaceful days. As I type this, the kitchen/dining area is in chaos, Farmer Boy stands on a bar stool being a (VERY LOUD) clown, while sister and brother play a counterpoint to his comedy. They are all a bit electric today, and sparks easily fly. And my own tongue can be razor sharp.
I don't know how--or if--they are being engraved in my children's memories, but I believe and like to think they are. Life feels so, so good with an amazing confluence of circumstances that make it so: beautiful weather, good reading material, fine health, spring's beauty, children's joy in what we are doing, kind friends...*
There have been lots of hard conversations about life, what is next, how the kids feel about that, sibling squabbles, potentially stressful logistics and so on, but it is just normal life. which I feel so grateful for when "normal" should not be applied to what other people are having to live through these days.
We just finished Swallows and Amazons, which my kids loved. Just ordered the 12 book series. They are older books, and my kids thrilled to the independence the kids had, the kindness, the morality, the imagination, the lack of modern-day drama and strife. Altogether wholesome.
While we don't have a sailboat or a giant lake at our disposal, we do have a kayak and lovely neighbors who let us have access to their pond. So the other night, we headed out at sunset so the kids could paddle around. I played around in a sketchbook with acrylics and colored pencils, enjoying the moment while the kids made believe and planned for life in a new locale where adventures seem highly possible.
The kids continue to enjoy poemcrazy, and last night we created an "event" as suggested in the practice section of chapter 12. While painting at the pond, I had the urge to make a found poem that I would release upon the waters. I didn't end up doing it but decided to invite the kids to do it with me and make a party of it. The Poem Launch Party was born, and shall--memory-willing--become an annual tradition. Let everyone else celebrate Labor Day.
Sprout and I made our poems using words clipped from the copious stash of The Guardian's "Review" journals left here by the previous homeowners. Farmer Boy created his own poem, based on "texel" (a breed of sheep), one of his words from the wordpool he made using the dictionary. Ti'Loup riffed off words found on the cover of poemcrazy itself. We also wrote down five things we hate about the world or dislike in ourselves with plans to immolate them.
I made egg salad and baked a cake using some of the preserved gooseberries from last year. I gathered candles and the boys their jet lighters, while Sprout packed drinks and gathered the poems. We went to a closer pond--one we don't have express permission to visit--for our party, so that we wouldn't run the chance of disturbing our neighbors if they had friends over for weekend fishing as they sometimes do. On the way down, thanks to the lowering sun, Sprout glimpsed wondrously crimson baby cones of what I think must be a Norway Spruce.
Our party was lowkey and fun, with one moment of hilarious excitement when we all hid in the tall grass after hearing a horn honking behind us (remember what I said about no express permission? 😜). We ate and launched our poems and immolated all The Bad.
I collected words for it all into my poem book while the boys played with wax and Sprout cloud gazed. There were mountains and valleys of cloud-dappled sky to behold.
On the way home, we were followed by a crone or a dwarf. One can never be sure in the gloaming.
________
* Don't get the wrong idea of some quiet, tranquil flow of ever-and-always peaceful days. As I type this, the kitchen/dining area is in chaos, Farmer Boy stands on a bar stool being a (VERY LOUD) clown, while sister and brother play a counterpoint to his comedy. They are all a bit electric today, and sparks easily fly. And my own tongue can be razor sharp.
no subject
Date: 2 May 2026 02:35 pm (UTC)I promise you, that these moments will shape and indelibly mark their lives forever.
Thank you for the ways you have chosen to raise them. I'm so happy to see these experiences you have made available to them.
It overwhelms my heart.
https://youtu.be/Z-HLxpWGCzc?si=3Ta-x-Ubx7EGLLyL
no subject
Date: 2 May 2026 04:16 pm (UTC)And thank you for the very fitting song and video!
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Date: 2 May 2026 06:28 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 3 May 2026 12:33 pm (UTC)With the slips of paper, I like to think of someone maybe finding one of the slips--think how magical that would be. I can imagine wandering by the edge of the pond and finding the words "against all odds" or "toujours plus"
I love-love-love that delicate baby pinecone. What a treasure!
no subject
Date: 3 May 2026 03:15 pm (UTC)I can imagine wandering by the edge of the pond and finding the words "against all odds" or "toujours plus"
Like a fortune cookie foretelling, offered up by the earth. 🥠
no subject
Date: 3 May 2026 05:05 pm (UTC)