 Last New Year’s Eve a friend suggested we choose a single word to inform the year ahead. As a devoted logophile, I plunged into the challenge. I was intrigued by the simplicity, the focus, like a yearlong mantra. For 2019 I chose ATTEND. In my empty nest life, I have a tendency to tune out and burrow down. Both meanings of the word appealed to me: LISTEN and GO. Take part; give heed; don’t get lost in interiority. I’ve mulled over this year’s word for about a month. EXTEND? EXTERIOR? OUTWARD? ENGAGE? I still need to “attend,” but I wanted a distinct word. Given this semester’s focus on writing (and family), I also considered CREATE and INNOVATE. The winner for the year 2020 is…. STRETCH. Once again, I admired its versatility. Physically and mechanically, I am increasingly obliged to stretch and limber. The word also suggests metaphorical reaching out beyond the edges – of myself, of possibilities, of habits, of creativity. May the year 2020 be a year of positive stretching for everyone – personally, socially, and politically. It’s a big year. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 126: 180 words, TOTAL = 20,759; 39,241 remaining
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 In-laws change a family. As with all change, you have a choice: wring your hands over what used to be, or celebrate the gifts of new family members. We have a lot to celebrate. Anna’s husband Robert has made noises about learning to knit for years. Anna planted an idea in her two sisters’ heads (the family knitters), and they presented Robert with a knitting bag and complete starter kit for Christmas. Today and yesterday Nellie helped Robert get started. There were slips, overages, dropped stitches, all mysterious to me. Jonathan’s mom was the source of my daughter’s knitting lessons. Now they make amazing, complex, cabled, zippered, hooded things for dogs and people. I am awed. Now Nellie is passing along Nana’s lessons to her sister’s husband, expanding in-law ripples in the pond. I loved seeing the patience and laughter exchanged between Robert and Nellie, puzzling over his slow-growing swatch. Those guys are like brother and sister, I thought. How cool is that? My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 125: 163 words, TOTAL = 20,579; 39,421 remaining  One of my favorite holiday traditions is celebrating Hanukkah across the street. Every year, Jean’s husband Eric makes a mountain (over a foot high) of latkes, which go on the table next to scads of sour cream and applesauce. Jean makes a giant Israeli salad with olives, and neighbor Sarah brings artichoke heart kugel. As soon as everyone arrives, not long after sunset, the neighborhood children take their positions in front of Eric’s collection of menorahs. He tells the story of the oil that lasted longer than anyone expected, of how the Jews celebrate positive events rather than war or violence. He tells them about the tradition of lighting the candles from left to right, even though reading goes right to left (“It was a long, complicated debate, something about balancing things out; I won’t go into it.”). Once the candles are lit, it’s time to eat. The dreidel game comes out, and the grown-ups dig in to the food. I’ve watched the kids grow from in-parents’-arms to solo candle-lighting. Yesterday, my kids’ high school Latin teacher met Fiona. Each year, newcomers join and regulars become new people. Thanks to Jean and Eric, our own children and a some international students from Germany and Pakistan got an insider taste of Hanukkah. It may be a small window, but that’s how tradition and familiarity begin. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 124: 224 words, TOTAL = 20,416; 39,584 remaining  One of Jonathan’s surprising talents is these Ukrainian-style, decorated eggs. They are drawn in wax, freehand, then dyed. For the multi-colored ones it’s a complex procedure of dying, rinsing, and negative wax placement. I would never have the patience. He hasn’t had time to make eggs for quite a while, but I’m hoping he might get there soon. No matter your particular outlet, losing yourself in creativity is deeply peaceful and therapeutic. At the moment, I am in a temporary state of lassitude, in between, on the threshold of an unknown venture. I’ve learned the transient nature of these periods, so I’m trying not to fret over it. It will be my first non-teaching semester in 4 ½ years, my first attempt at a full-time writing life. I have the ultimate distractions in residence right now – kids, granddaughter, granddogs. But soon I’ll have to send off my manuscript for copyediting, and complete a slew of preliminary work to submit to She Writes Press for my book. Then maybe I’ll find my way to creativity: new writing productions, poetry, music, newspaper or magazine stories. I hope to find my way into that meditative space where time disappears. For now, I’ll hover here on the cusp of who-knows-what, just living. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 123: 208 words, TOTAL = 20,192; 39,808 remaining  Jonathan and I had a wonderfully unique Christmas day. There are few things I love more than climbing a mountain. On the other hand, now that we’re enjoying the more classic Christmas experience, I can’t say it’s not pretty sweet. We had four generations gathered together, meals at the dining room table (that acts as my desk most of the year), tripping over extra dogs who retch, puke on the carpet, lean on my leg warmly, and give kisses; Fiona time for everyone, my children’s hands to hold, many hugs; piles of dishes in the sink and a stuffed refrigerator; everything I was missing (well…there are several missing people and dogs, but enough present to allay the hunger). Copious stores of unspent love have been happily distributed. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 122: 127 words, TOTAL = 19,984; 40,016 remaining (1/3 of the year done!)  When Jonathan and I have time off, we’re inclined to pack up and go away somewhere. This little stretch of staycation has been filled with unexpected pleasures. Yesterday we climbed Gorham Mountain in Acadia National Park. That jewel of an island never fails to awe the senses. Rockytop mountains are so easily accessible, and every one has a vista over the island-speckled sea. Today, for the first time in who-knows-how-long, Jonathan and I “played house,” ie: cleaning, clearing, cooking, homemaking in preparation for visitors, soon to arrive. Nothing sparks action like anticipated homecomings. We are opening up to change. One dramatic illustration was Jonathan inviting Clara to sit in the front seat of the car to join him on a trip to the dump. Clara looked as stunned as I was, since J is strictly a no-dogs-on-seats kind of guy. Speaking of Clara, I decided to feature her in today’s photo. Her 80-pound body adds perspective to this evening’s sensational sky show. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 121: 162 words, TOTAL = 19,857; 40,143 remaining  Even when we are divided by miles, we are united by smiles. Wishing everyone a lovely day of warmth, the kind that is generated from the inside. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 120: 58 words, TOTAL = 19,695; 40,305 remaining  Dear blog readers, A bright, promising sun bathed the back fields in light this evening. My doggies and I enjoyed the chill. They foraged for apples. We had a couple of rounds of geriatric tug of war. Long shadows, old friends, serene, evening light. It helped me brush aside the fact that I locked my car keys in my running car in a parking lot this afternoon. The speed with which AAA got a lock-out specialist to rescue me may be the best Christmas present I get this year, especially since there was fresh fish and ice cream in the car. The driver from Union Street Towing had a beaming smile on his face from the moment he stepped out of his truck to his little “ta-da” when the doors finally opened. Such little things can turn a mishap into an uplift. A happy Christmas Eve to all. And thank you, by the way, for all the good wishes after yesterday’s post. Love, Robin My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 119: 164 words, TOTAL = 19,637; 40,363 remaining www.bestbuy.com/site/plantronics-backbeat-fit-3150-true-wireless-sport-headphones-black/6361731.p?skuId=6361731&irclickid=VQChxN6xyOU9T0TWXZ0S3wUknyi522NSj22NSjBzw0&acampID=614286&mpid=197432  I’ve been perplexed by my recent gloom. My life is so replete with everything anyone could ask for, and yet I’m feeling unfulfilled, undirected, purposeless…not needed. What’s up? For years I prepared feverishly to create magical holidays for my four kids. Now that sense of duty is missing. I’m not giving enough. With too much time to myself, I’m sliding into self-absorption, a recipe for unhappiness. The other day I was out doing bland errands, feeling like a useless shit. A homeless guy held a sign in a parking lot. Sparked by insights from my students’ final papers, I walked over to him, looked him in the eye and asked how he was doing. In their interviews with homeless people and recovering addicts, my students learned that their interviewees’ greatest wish is to be seen as more than their unfortunate circumstance, to be seen as human beings, to be seen, period. I also handed him $5. I hope our interchange helped. I know it helped me. Jamie Anderson’s beautiful grief quote can apply to life change of all sorts. Grief, she says, is unspent love “with no place to go.” I think that may be what is happening inside my heart, though I’m loath to admit it. My children all have happy, fulfilling, love-drenched lives; it is everything I hoped for them. Still, without them here, it seems I am drowning in unspent love. I haven’t cultivated local outlets to spend it in, and I don’t have the self-discipline to disburse it among my faraway loved ones, who would appreciate it, but don’t really need it. Also, too many trips to the post office (oh the power of inertia!). Opportunities abound. I just have to push myself out of isolation and seek others in need of attention. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 118: 297 words, TOTAL = 19,473; 40,527 remaining  Jonathan and I finally brought Christmastime in today. I forget, even after 58 Christmases past, how transformational it can be to bring light into the home during this darkest time of year. What a grump I’ve been, for no clear reason. We went shopping; we put up wreaths and swags outside; we put up a tree inside, and festooned it with lights and memories. Stockings and other decorations came downstairs to take their holiday places. Jonathan put on a stunning new collection of Christmas music by Vocal Spectrum. We got photos from all four kids today, enjoying themselves in myriad ways – Sam and Tess sent a video of Finn catching a cookie off his nose; Tessa and Chris went ice-skating; Nellie and Mike dressed Fiona in hilarious outfits; Anna and Robert sent pictures of their visit to their dancing niece in New York City. So many joyful ripples in the pond. Be merry, Robin. Welcome the light. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 117: 157 words, TOTAL = 19,176; 40,824 remaining |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs. Archives
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