Imagine the Possibilities

Before I turned onto the gravelly driveway and spotted The Barn, before I wound my way down those back country roads for the last few miles, before I packed my books and manuscripts and pens and notebooks, I was filled with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to make my way to the Highlights Foundation for another outstanding workshop.

I’ve been to Highlights for workshops, unworkshops, and EPA SCBWI Conferences. Nine times, to be exact. Each experience is a little different, yet has commonalities. There is always wonderful food, comfortable accommodations and surroundings, and the opportunity to meet new colleagues. Perhaps most importantly, there is an energy that is almost tangible – a creative spirit that swirls and twirls and magically abounds. (You can read about a couple of my experiences here and here).

Last week I attended “The Ins and Outs of a Picture Book and Its Many Forms” with Bethany Hegedus, Carmen Oliver, and Salina Yoon. I learned about creating compelling characters and scenes, new structures, picture book biographies, the important work of revision, and much, much more. These three outstanding workshop leaders delivered fresh, new ideas to my ever-expanding knowledge of writing for children. I came away with a wealth of resources and new-found friends, and most importantly, a little bit more confidence in my work as a writer.

I feel so fortunate that I am able to take advantage of what the Highlights Foundation has to offer writers in all stages of their journey. And while I understand that not everyone has this opportunity, I do believe writers can create their own energy and magic. I’ve found it in the critique groups I work with and the authors I read who serve as mentors. It’s in the sharing of our creative spirit as writers, teachers, and students that confidence grows and success is born.

After an unusually rainy and humid August, the morning air has just a hint of coolness about it – a promise of change. It has that end of summer smell where humidity finally gives in, reluctantly. The cone flowers are fading, allowing the black-eyed susans their time to shine, while the roses have one last hurrah. The bird houses have been vacated, the squirrels are on the lookout for treasures to store, the geese are on the move. Soon I will be able to mark time with the rhythm of the school buses.

Yesterday I ran into a former colleague and her two children while out running errands. They looked like summer – tanned from a final trip to the beach, dressed in shorts and T-shirts, relaxed. While the kids said they weren’t ready for school to start next week, I sensed a certain excitement about them. And I remembered…

…finding that just-right backpack and lunch box

…scouring magazines for new after-school treat recipes

…picking out the perfect outfit for the first day back

…mornings with a hint of chill in the air, waiting for the bus

…discovering the best new read aloud

…new schedules, activities, routines

…new pens and pencils and crayons

…awake at night, too excited to sleep

In the district where I spent most of my teaching career, teachers are reporting to school today. Maybe that’s why I’m up early. Maybe that’s why I had a bit of trouble sleeping last night. Maybe that’s why I’ll always think of myself as a teacher. Some things never change.

Last week I spent some time with my sisters-in-law cleaning out my in-laws’ house. They both passed away last year and it has been a job that has loomed over us for some time.

What’s interesting about a job like that is not just deciding what to keep and what to discard, but also being stopped dead in your tracks with a memory, a story, and sometimes a regret. We would be going along in a great sort of rhythm, then a drawer full of pictures would stop us. Time to pause. Time to remember.

I didn’t grow up in this family, but I have been a part of it for more than forty years – a lifetime of stories and cherished memories and accumulated “stuff.” The stuff has been trashed or kept, sorted and boxed, donated or claimed. All of the memories have been stored in our hearts forever.

I pulled the pie tins out from the lower cupboard. Suddenly I was sitting at the table in the dining room on my husband’s birthday with the most glorious lemon merengue pie (probably two) ready to share. Mounds of fluffy, sweet whiteness atop a creamy custard of just-right tartness. My mother-in-law would ring the pies with the built-in crust loosener. That’s what made these pie tins so special, and I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere else. Definitely a keeper.

Next month, on Allan’s birthday, I will try to recreate that glorious lemon merengue pie as I do every year. I’ve gotten close, but it’s never quite the same. Perhaps this year will be different. Perhaps there’s magic in that pie tin.

I love the Memorial Day weekend. Besides being a time to honor all who have fought for our country, it is also the unofficial start to summer. I got married on a Memorial Day weekend, and my son was born three years and a few days later. So there is always much to celebrate here at this special time of year. This year was no different… sort of.

The Good – Allan and I traveled to Brooklyn to see my son and daughter-in-law and to spend time with our five month old grandson. We got him all to ourselves when the kids went out for some time alone. We loved every minute and hated to leave! We also celebrated our forty-first wedding anniversary by going to a movie. We had to pick a dark place for reasons you will learn later.

The Bad – I had some minor surgery just before the weekend to remove some basal cells from my forehead. Not a big deal, really, and everything is fine. One of the last things the doctor said to me was, “Now you may have a black eye from this…” which led to…

The Ugly – It started Friday night and progressed through Saturday. And yes, it’s a doozy. Lovely shades of purple and pink and red with a slight tinge of yellow surround my left eye. There is swelling underneath the eye where everything seems to be draining. Makeup helps some, but I wear dark glasses when I go out. Of course, I am convinced that everyone is staring at me. But they are probably just trying to figure out why someone is wearing dark glasses on an overcast day, let alone inside!

But despite all of that, it was a good start to summer. We celebrated with ice cream!