Tuesday's Reflection: Is There a Writer in the House?

Recently, our two grandchildren, Maren (11) and Peter (6) stayed with us for the weekend while Mom and Dad were out of town. On Saturday Peter was busy with a soccer game and a birthday party, but Maren had unscheduled time. She slept late, which was not surprising given her new earlier school start time, but the rest of the day was open. I thought about things she might like to do while Peter and Papa were gone and had also told her she could get together with friends at our house or I would take her wherever she wanted to go. What she chose, however, was to stay here, sit at the dining room table and write. 

She and a good friend are writing a book, and each time they get together they write, fully collaborating on the characters, plot, and setting. They have filled notebooks with this project and now are transcribing it to the computer. That's what Maren wanted to do on a gorgeous fall day, a weekend day, a free day. Write. Work on her book. 

I had intended to spend the afternoon reading and maybe taking a nap, but how could I, supposedly a writer, who says I never have enough time to write, not be challenged by, inspired by my granddaughter's discipline and enthusiasm and belief in her work. I retreated to my office and yes, I, too, wrote.

Maren is now at an age when being with her friends is much higher  on her list of priorities and being with GrandNan is much lower. I get it. That's normal and healthy, but I miss her. Therefore, this summer I thought about ways I could spend time with her and have it be a win-win situation. The first key was to include one of her friends in our activities and outings, and the second key was to do something we would all enjoy. I thought about how I could share myself with her in a way that would be meaningful--and fun for her. Writing time! I write. Maren and her buddy Lily write, and, in fact, we each view writing as a valuable and pleasurable activity, so why not do it together?

With permission and encouragement from the Moms I planned three writing times for the three of us during the summer. Two half days and one all day writing marathon. My goal was to support and reinforce their writing interest and energy, but what I didn't realize is that our time together would reinforce and support me as a writer, as well. We were writers writing together. I provided some structure and ideas and facilitated our time, but those writing times were for me as much as for them. We talked about what it means to be a writer and how to practice our craft and what our hopes and dreams for our writing might be. And we wrote. And we read aloud what we wrote, hearing our own words as they hit someone else's ears. And we wrote some more. 

I am taking a challenging online writing course right now, which I hope will push me forward on a big and nebulous writing project, a book I am having a hard time getting my arms around. I am struggling and anxious about it, yearning to do it and yet at the same time resisting the commitment I know it will take for completion. My vision keeps shifting. I am unclear, and I have no idea what this book will become. 

What I have, however, is the memory of sitting with two lovely young women, excited and eager and trusting, and fully believing they will finish their book and it will be published some day. They are writers, and they remind me that I am, too. Who knows what else they will be as they move through the years, but their passion is a lesson for me -- to know what I love to do and to do it. Now. 

Maren was so happy, by the way, with all she accomplished that day as she sat at our dining room table. I was just as happy sitting at my desk in the garret writing, knowing we were both engrossed in one of our loves. 

An Invitation

What is it you love to do, but don't make room for in your life? Is there a way to share what you love to do with someone else, especially someone else who might just turn out to be your teacher or collaborator? I would love to know

Tuesday's Reflection: The Evolution of a Garden

It all started with a yearning. I love this house, but one of our requirements when we were looking for a house was the existence of a front porch. This house, however, does not have the desired front porch, nor does it have several other "must have's," such as central air conditioning, a fireplace, and a double garage. Oh well, compromise is key when looking for a house, and this house fits the bill in many other ways, especially proximity to our grandkids. 


Back to the front porch. I love front porches, and in many ways the front porch at our home in Madison was my favorite feature in that house. We ate meals there, entertained there, napped, read, and I plugged in my laptop and wrote many blog posts there. The porch was spacious and had just enough privacy so people walking by often didn't notice we were there. Many of the homes in our "new urbanism" neighborhood have gracious front porches, but not many residents seemed to use and enjoy that space as we did. 

The home in St Paul where we raised our children all those years ago was built in 1906 and was also in a neighborhood where most of the homes had wide front porches. In those homes porches became additional living space for both private and public gatherings. In the more formal 19th century and early years of the 20th century, a front porch "served as a kind of holding station when unannounced visitors came to call." (Porch Presence, Interior Design for the Exterior Room by Sally Fennell Robbins, p. 17) At that time in our history front porches also represented a break from the constraints of the Victorian era with its dark, dimly lit rooms. (p.17)

Living there, we learned front porch etiquette. If someone walking by greeted you, you, of course, greeted them, too. If you remained in your comfortable wicker chair with your book on your lap, the stroller continued passing by, but if you rose from your seat and leaned over the railing and stood by the steps, that was a sign you were ready to engage in more conversation, and might even extend an invitation to join you on the porch. It was all very genteel! 

This house does not have a front porch, and I miss it. It does have a front stoop and when I was able to move around a bit more as my ankle was healing and when the weather became warmer, I moved a chair on the stoop and sat and read and watched the neighborhood. That was not a permanent or even very satisfactory solution to the porch issue, for when not in use, the chair needed to be folded and set aside to make the front door accessible.  However, that became Step One in the evolution of a garden.

Step Two: The front yard does have a lovely tree, providing shade and a setting for a couple chairs and a small table. Voila! Outdoor living space. I did sit there on occasion, but frankly, I felt a bit too exposed for my introverted nature. 

Step Three: On my walks in the neighborhood I found myself coveting other people's front porches, wondering if I could rent space occasionally. I would bring the lemonade, and they wouldn't have to entertain me. They would hardly know I was there as I sat quietly and read my book. And then inspiration struck in the form of an inviting side courtyard. I started noticing other examples in the neighborhood where a side yard had become an inviting and yet private space. Could we do that? We had a narrow side yard lined on the neighbor's side with arborvitae and at the back was our fence and a gate to the back yard. With the house as the third side, we had three "walls" already in place, and it was just big enough for a couple chairs and a small table. 

Step Four: What would the master gardener in our house, my husband Bruce, think of this idea? I cunningly mentioned the house a block away that had so creatively used its side yard, making it a real feature of the house. After steering him past the house on one of our walks, he, too, became enthusiastic about doing something similar for our house. Off we went on field trips to various nurseries looking at structures to create an entrance to this garden. Most of the arbors we saw were too big or too flimsy or too expensive or just not right, but then one gorgeous Saturday we went on a day trip down the Great River Road on the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi. 

At one time we owned a one-room schoolhouse built in the 1860's in that area. It was our getaway, until we moved to Ohio in the 1990's and sold it, but we have never quite let go of an attachment to that area. After lunch at a favorite spot, Harbor View Cafe http://www.harborviewpepin.com in Pepin, we stopped at another favorite place, Stockholm Gardens http://www.stockholmgardens.com. While Bruce was getting reacquainted with the owner, I found a place to sit and rest my slightly throbbing ankle. And what did I see? The perfect arbor. Wrought iron painted a vintage green with lots of natural patina. Not too many curlicues, a rising arch, and just the right size. The price was even right. When I could get Bruce's attention, he agreed. This was it!!!

Step 5: Here's where Bruce's fun really began, for moving in the chairs and setting up the arbor at just the right spot only set the stage for digging up a small space leading to the arbor and planting with daisies and other perennials. And then there is all the space close to the house and making that even more pleasing with additional plantings and then moving two planters and a fountain and other garden "junk," as he calls the ornaments he enjoys collecting. I remembered a lantern in the basement I thought would be a nice welcoming touch for the arbor, and Bruce thought a mirror hanging on the gate would make the space seem larger. We just happened to have a vintage mirror gathering dust under a bed. All of a sudden our 1920's bungalow has an additional room, our St Paul version of a Cotswold garden. This is a space that balances privacy, but also opens us to interaction with our neighbors. I am delighted. 

Steps 6, 7, 8……This cottage side garden will continue to evolve. I am not sure the chairs and table are the right ones, and isn't it too bad that I sold the ceramic garden seats/tables we had on our deck in Madison? Bruce talks about window boxes on the side windows and, of course, more plants and flowers will be added, and then there is the issue of a "floor." 

In the meantime, this space is a symbol of creative collaboration, where yearning and inspiration cooperated to create something new, something vibrant and pleasing. True, it is not a front porch, but instead of being stuck in what was, we decided to move to the Cotswolds, and who knows what the time spent there will open for us. 

An Invitation
When has a yearning fed by inspiration led to something new in your life? With whom do you have a creative collaboration and how does that work? When you are inspired, how does that happen, and what is the springboard of inspiration for you? I would love to know. 

Stay tuned for additional posts about gardening--gardening as spiritual practice and gardens as sacred space.