About Clouds

Yesterday the Sixth Wilbury posted a quote from the greatest book ever written, The House on Mango Street. She pulled out the part about Darius and his clouds, which made me remember that I had written this little poem about that same kid, Darius and his clouds, about 2 years ago when I read that book. Here goes

Darius

A boy was named
Darius
because his mother
liked the sound.
We learned on the playground
that he knew God.

Darius was the boy
who chased us
outside of school,
who pulled our hair,
but ducked away
before we reached
for him. Darius.

On Friday, he stood
on the blacktop, easy
with his hands hiding
in his pockets.
He looked away from us
and we felt our breath
slip into ourselves,
just before he pointed up
to a single cloud.

He’d pulled
a single cloud
from that piled air
and called it God. We looked at Darius,
noticed his eyes
for a first time,
heard the deepness
in his voice,
and believed him.

Twice in one day

What's come over me? Basically a snotty cold which I've just plain ole succumb to and have ended up glued to the couch with kleenex, my laptop, and way too much TV. It's not fair, but tonight, something funny actually happened. And of course, I do tell...

As many other 20 something girls I know, the show Felicity tugs at my sick heart strings. Remember, girls? Remember watching this show like we would figure out the answer to why our boyfriends were not hot, dark men like Ben and were definitely not mysterious enough to follow across country? Well here I sit, still watching this show, a little happy that I found it on the upper cable channels tonight. Will's in the kitchen being the oh so excellent person that he is cooking his whining housemate dinner, and he says, "What are you watching?" which was a loaded question, both out of curiosity and disgust because Felicity was in the middle of one of her break-up-with-Ben scenes (How many times did that really happen? It feels like at least 20), and the husky Ben voice mixed with wheepy Felicity was a little gross sounding. So I reply, "Felicity?" He's quiet, but I know more will come.

Some time passes here...

From the kitchen, "Who's Felicity?"

I say, "Keri Russell?," knowing as an old Felicity fan that there's no way I can really explain who Felicity is, I mean she's this complex, wandering soul type of person who can never make a real decision without at least bringing 3 people down with her before she decides to "Trust herself," which somehow makes those other 3 people happy for her, which really is unrealistic, but so entertaining to the high school girl still secretly hiding in my house.

So Will, still stirring something, says, "So the shows about Felicity. What all the boys want to be with her or something?" And I answer, "Well yea, it's complicated see." And he cuts me off before I can get into the true explanation of WHO this Felicity is, which is pretty much salvation for us both, don't you think??

On being a grown-up...

"It's times like this when someone is talking to you like you are a grown-up that you have to be careful not to pick your nose or dig your drawers out of your butt."

"Well, that's what being a grown-up is like. At first it's scary but then before you realize, with a lot of practice, you have it under control. Hopefully you'll have lots of time to practice being grown-up before you actually have to do it."

--from The Watsons Go to Birmingham--1963 by Christopher Paul Curtis, one of the many kids' books I read in order to pursue my career.

Cheers! and a big Hurrah! to all the other grown-ups!

Cayce Chronicles

"I snuck what was left of my father's chicken into a napkin when Aunt Nora came to the table and got everyone's attention: Did anyone want to dance "The Hokey Pokey"? My mother did. She and Aunt Nora walked off with their arms linked.
I spotted them with Rebecca on the dance floor as I made my getaway. The bandleader was singing, "Put your right foot in, and shake it all about," and the three of them did it along with everyone else, without thinking, as I did, Why? Why would you put your right foot in and shake it all about?"

--from The Wonder Spot, Melissa Bank

As stories I've told before about the neighborhood I live in go (see some December posts about Christmas yard decorations)...there's a new one that got me laughing this week. So sometime around April or maybe May, Will and I decided to get a tent (not a camping tent, but a 10x10 easy-up to provide shade) to put in the backyard and we put mosquito netting around it b/c the backyard is sort of similar to a big stagnant pool of water, meaning really that the mosquitos love it and especially me when I'm floating around in the big pool of water. There's not water, REALLY, but it's a nice comparison. Since then we've spent some time out in the tent eating after we cookout and such, and the experience is always pretty pleasant considering that the Mosquito Super Kris Buffet is closed to the public. About 2 weeks ago, I came home from a short beach trip, and lo and behold! the neighbors had a tent too, minus the mosquito accoutrements. Now the third house down from us also has a tent, but from the window at my desk I can't exactly see the placement of their tent and have no idea whether or not they bothered for the mosquito accessories as we did.

Apparently though, the idea of a tent to block the sun was new in good ole Cayce, and by gosh we're bringing the modern times right on into this town!