fastidious musings for anonymous

















We have been listening to Mingus, Monk and Milt Jackson through the summer. August likes to recite her own spontaneous poetry over the music. I linger in the moment. Later, I wonder if jazz will be forever connected with the months just before kindergarten. Our brand new neighbor plays the saxophone in the evenings. The sound gently passes through the walls. It sounds very good and a bit serendipitous. 

Heard mariachis at the library, the lonely trumpet echoing down the hallway before they started put me somewhere I can't quite describe. Perhaps its in the future. The museum we love feels like home, the library like church and the church like a museum. Deep in thought and feeling, I am using all my senses, and it's all love.

Stories

August will ask me to tell her stories from when I was a little girl or before she was born. Some she loves hearing over and over, like how my hamster, Kiwi, stole the belt from my robe and hid it in her nest until I cleaned out the cage and found it. She loves hearing her own birth story and can almost tell it exactly the way I do. There are some memories from my own childhood that I tell her from the point of view I had as a child. These are precious childhood memories I feel fortunate to still have.

When I was a little girl they served coffee cream in tiny glass carafes at restaurants. I took one home with me and just loved how it fit in my hand and all the inspirations that came from it on the drive home. I put some tiny rocks into it, poured them out, they weren't quite tiny enough. I found teenie rocks and filled it halfway. Once I did, I held it close to my eye and could imagine a seashore in another land. I filled it with water and poured it out, filled it with water again, poured it out again and continued until I had the perfect little scene. When I put my eye up to it I saw a rocky shore leading to a magical beach, the doorway to a magical ocean. I placed it near my bed, and that night, I fell asleep with my lamp on, looking into this tiny world of water where mermaids and whales and sorts of creatures lived.

This went on for a few days and nights, I cannot remember how many. I noticed a waxy film on the water and had to pour it out and replaced it at the perfect level. I used a stick to move the rocks the way I wanted, and again, I placed it by my bed and drifted off looking at the sea. One night a little insect appeared to be swimming in this make believe ocean then would climb onto the rock and rest before entering the water again. I was fascinated and it quickly became a swimming faerie. I enjoyed this creature and how it's presence made the whole scene more real. To me it was a faerie bathing in the enchanted waters and resting in the sunlight. It didn't leave for some time and had visited because my little water world was so inviting.

That is how it all seemed to me as a child. I am sure that this little creamer filled with water was near my bed for all of four days or maybe a week but it felt like forever. The webspinner that found it's way in was probably trapped an entire evening but it felt so much longer and perhaps, sitting under a lamp, more than one webspinner frequently found its way into it  every evening. I'll never know the reality of it all, I am happy to still remember it the way I saw it as a child. I hope August will have such memories long after childhood ends.

Trip to China