Telling: Altars & Artifacts

mom

we are plaid

At Gus's practice on Friday, Jake and Tucker brought legos and arrayed them across the concrete embankment. They had been bickering over the legos, but now they were not. They had scavanged the embankement up and down as far as they could go and still stay in sight, collecting bits of plastic and bottle tops. Jake found a crab's claw and wouldn't let Tucker touch it. Then he changed his mind and did, and Tucker didn't break it. Tucker went down around the corner to pee and came back saying he wished he could pee like a dog. Then Jake went down to pee. A bee flew into Tucker's coke and Jake chastized him for leaving the lid off. Jake screwed the lid on, trapping the bee, then hurled the bottle over the fence, into the bushes at the foot of the light tower, and I chastized Jake for littering. Jake's eyes got big and he apologized and then Tucker called him down the hill to where the lego horses were grazing. A few minutes later they were rolling down the hill, running back up and rolling back down again. I sat in the breeze, my papers spread around me, studying conditionals and logic constructions. The lake was blue, the sky a paler shade and full of birds.

There are moments I am undone by the intricate complexity of the texture of my life.

A Mother's Journal

field notes from
1997 - 1999