Something to Believe In

I asked my friend, the poet Derek J. Rhodes what, if anything, he believed in. He said:

"I guess I only believe in one thing--people are more important than ideas, without exception. Individuals are more important than beliefs, causes, ideals, concepts, even God." He smiled before the last bit. "If there's a hell, it will be filled with ideas and regrettable circumstances. No, we haven't done anything unforgiveable."

So Write, Writer

My friend, Paul, call to chastise me for neglecting SSB. This is what he said:

"I don't care if you're working fourteen hour days. I don't care if you've 'lost your flow.' Hell, you could mangle your hands in an accident involving a wood chipper and I would be sad, but that's still no excuse. This is what you do. So write, writer."

Fair enough.

Cousins

There's just something fantastic about cousins. I've never been able to pin down exactly what it is I like so much about this particular subset of family, but I think that this picture comes very close to the heart of it.

Contributed by Sarah.

Bubbles

This morning Emma was sitting next to me while I was folding clothes. Calliou was on the TV. As I shook out a towel, Emma shouts, "Bubbles! Bubbles!" In the sunlight you can see dust mites floating--her "bubbles".

Contributed by Denise.

Time Out

Another cute Emma story...She became rather spoiled over vacation with mom/dad going to bed with her in the tent when we were camping. So we are back to sitting in the chair until she falls asleep. Saturday night, I was sitting there reading a book. Meanwhile Emma put Elmo in time out in the crib. She sat him on the pillow, and said, "No, NO, NO, NO,", turned him over and waited a few seconds then turned him back and continued the scolding. I tried so hard not to laugh myself silly. Poor thing, she has had it hard the last few weeks. It seems like everything she wants to do is sometimes questionable behaviour.

Contributed by Denise.

Bell-Jar

My friend, Jenna, and I went to a coffee shop Monday night. She sat by herself while I wrote. An hour into reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar, Jenna started laughing out loud for a solid minute. It made me smile.

Bad Habit

I have a bad habit of stashing away beautiful stories. I think that's why I started this site.

I know why I keep them locked away. It's like Moonlight Sonata. I need to have one last small, stupid, and beautiful anecdote in reserve when all the chips are down.