Saturday, May 11, 2013

Chicken Bones and the Moms



Dedicated to Florence, Shirley, Gudrun, Jean, Dorothy and Mary

Chicken Bones and her Mom.
Chicken Bones knew that Holly’s mom was nervous and screechy, and Holly was screamy too. Sometimes Chicken Bones went to Holly’s house, but only because Holly had a real Barbie dream home and nobody else in the neighbourhood did. Chicken Bones knew this was rude, but she just couldn’t resist. Inevitably, all the little girls would start squabbling and Chicken Bones would go next door to Kim’s house.

Chicken Bones with her Mom, her Grandma and her sisters.
Chicken Bones knew that Kim’s mom was calmer and quieter and she almost always let the kids play on the swing set in the back yard. She would stay nearby in the kitchen, and sometimes Chicken Bones would go inside for a drink of water just so she could see Kim’s mom’s very modern built-in oven and slide-out stove. Chicken Bones thought they must be a little bit rich because they had a dining room too. 

A few doors down, Colleen’s mom did not have a dining room, but she had a busy kitchen where she cooked different kinds of unusual foods. An omelette was something that Chicken Bones had never tasted at home. And Colleen’s mom always let Chicken Bones stay for supper and have sleep-overs and be silly. Colleen’s mom often had a little smirk on her face, in spite of herself.

Chicken Bones and friends perform for their moms.
Down the block, Chicken Bones liked to hang around Donna’s place because Donna had an old plywood trailer in her backyard. All the kids would perch on the rough edges and sing funny songs, and then Donna’s mom would make melty messy chocolate chip cookies and home-made bread that tasted like heaven. Chicken Bones would gobble up those treats and then run away when Donna’s brother showed up. (Once he threw a spider at her and she just never forgot that.)

Next door to Donna, was Shannon’s mom. She was glamorous and mysterious. She wore high heels and her hair was pulled back in a French roll. And she worked! She went out to a job every day. Chicken Bones didn’t know any other moms that did that and it made Chicken Bones a little bit nervous. She was too scared to go into Shannon’s living room because there was down-filled velvet furniture and it looked like a picture in a magazine. Even Shannon’s basement was not just a basement; it was a rec room. So Chicken Bones was pretty sure that this was the fanciest house on the street and it didn’t often have a mom in it so it felt really really different to her.

Chicken Bones' Mom let her have big birthday parties!
And then Chicken Bones would go home to her own mom.

Chicken Bones’ mom didn’t yell too much and she usually just said, “Go play outside” or “Go play in the basement”.  And before Chicken Bones had tests to write at school, her mom always said, ”think before you write!” and Chicken Bones tried hard.

Chicken Bones didn’t have official Barbie stuff, but she had a bunch of wooden crates that became the perfect house for all her dolls and all her friends’ dolls and nobody had too many arguments.

All dressed up for the first day of school.
Chicken Bones didn’t have a gym set, but her mom and dad hung a swing from a rafter in the basement so everyone could pump and push on the rainy days.

Chicken Bones’ mom made brownie cake and matrimonial cake and Chicken Bones could have “just one piece”, but it was perfect.

Chicken Bones’ mom had a clothes stand in the backyard so she could reach the clothesline, and all the kids made forts under it with blankets and the clothespins that were hanging nearby.

And Chicken Bones’ mom was sometimes dressed up a little bit fancy if it was a very special occasion, but mostly she wore shirts and pants and only a smidge of lipstick, and never housedresses.



At the end of the day, Chicken Bones felt cared for by all the moms in their own way. (But of course, more by her own mom because she was the best one for Chicken Bones.)

Chicken Bones' Mom let her have huge sleep-overs!
When Chicken Bones grew up and became Ari’s mom and Mary’s mom and Joe’s mom, she knew that sometimes she was cranky, sometimes cool, sometimes playful and sometimes stern. She could be an impressive baker, but some days she just had to be a store-bought bag of cookies shopper. She thought about exasperated exhaustion when babies wouldn’t sleep and the annoyance of other people’s frustrating children. She recalled the relieved pride of a fully toilet-trained toddler and the happy tears at elementary school concerts. She was a slob sometimes but other times, quite presentable. She worked lots, but stayed home when she could. She tried her best.

She still thinks about those moms of her childhood. Some of them have moved away, some have passed away and some are still right where they’ve always been. She knows that all of them did the best they could.

Chicken Bones knows now that all moms do.


Mother’s Day 2013


©Conni Cartlidge, 2013

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Mary Poems

Mary & me a long time ago.



My daughter Mary lives far away.

When valentines day approached, I wanted to make something for her. I found an old book called "Making Poetry: Approaches to Writing from Classrooms 'round the World" by Brian S. Powell (1973). To challenge myself, I tried some of the different poetry techniques in the book. They were harder than they look! 

Here are some poems about Mary.

The first is a cinquain.

Mary,
responsible, clever,
hilarious, crafty, observant,
eyes watching her world,
Mary.

And here’s another. It’s called a three-word model.

Mary
Manages
Malevolently

And here’s a five-line adjective-verb model.

The girl in the video looks
Approachable,
Amiable;
She acknowledges,
Attacks.



Mary now.


I think I captured a little bit of Mary.

If words could ever really express my heart.










Saturday, December 15, 2012

Slaps




I’ve taken a few hits in my lifetime.

A terrified swat on the bottom as Dad snatched me away from an open geyser in Yellowstone Park.

A flat-handed smack across the cheek when I dared to disagree with a drunken angry teenage boy at a high school party.

Blood red manicured nails dug into my throat by a jealous girl.

An open gash to my shin after a regrettable night of socializing.

But nothing slapped me so hard as the news that my friend had cancer. Her husband came to my door and all he could say was, “She had a mastectomy last week.”


She and I met when I was four. We stared at each other from our respective front steps when she moved in across the street. She held her dog close and I sucked my thumb. Somehow, we got passed this and became friends for life. I printed our initials in a heart inside my closet. We played tag, we dressed and undressed and redressed our Barbie dolls, we listened to records, we cried about awful boyfriends, we covered for each other during our terrible teens, and we slowly grew up and went in different directions. Somehow we always stayed in touch though; maybe at the Folk Festival or an anniversary or a camping trip back to the Interlake. We finally both settled near each other and chatted now and then, but some distance had grown over the years. Just took things for granted.


But the clobber of cancer nearly bowled me over. I went to her and she said, “Yeah, I had a nice set, and now I’ve only got one.” Lopsided. Asymmetrical. And we laughed while we both fought tears.
So she went for chemo and she went for radiation and sometimes I went with her and we shaved her head and we wore goofy hats and we got stupid and silly and we were four years old again. And now she’s healthy.

I think I am too.

Wishing you love and friendship.



December 2012



©Conni Cartlidge, 2012

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Disclosure




Jot niranjan
Onkar
Rarenkar
Sohang
Sat naam

Five names repeated silently
Secrets never to be shared
Words to stop my thoughts

My brain

Washed

Scrubbed clean of filthy attachments to
Friends and possessions
And 

Family

Words to keep me pure and selfless
And

Quiet

Five secret names
Now exposed on paper

By the wind.


October 2012              Conni Cartlidge                (Wind Spirit Woman)






©Conni Cartlidge, 2012

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Two Rooms




One room is in the basement. It has no windows. It is claustrophobic and dark. It is currently a storage closet.

It will become a full-time office for instructors at a public college.

Another room is on the second floor. It has large south-facing windows that look out on the children’s natural playspace. It is adjacent to other offices and classrooms. It is easy for students to find. It is spacious and bright.

It is currently a prayer room. It is usually empty.

Maybe those who occasionally feel the need to pray would benefit from the small quiet basement room.

Perhaps four or five busy instructors and their students would benefit from the space, natural light, companionship and camaraderie that are available on the second floor.

Could these two rooms change places?

Why?

Why not?

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Chicken Bones and Fish



(A story for Delilah)

Chicken Bones was the littlest.

Chicken Bones was the scrawniest.

Chicken Bones could not play piano like her biggest sister Thora. 
Chicken Bones could not read books like her middle sister Nancy. 
Chicken Bones was certainly not a teenager like her foster sister Marlene.

But Chicken Bones was a happy little girl most of the time.

She liked to dress up in fancy clothes for special occasions.


She liked to have tea parties with Nancy.


She tried really hard to skate when Thora took her outside.


She could ride a tricycle up and down the sidewalk all by herself.


And she had lots of pals to play with in her neighbourhood.



But sometimes Chicken Bones got very scared….


When the boy down the street threw a daddy-long-legs in her hair, she screeched and ran around in circles till she shook it off. She forgot that the bug was probably scared too.

When she fell off a dock into some deep water, she kicked and flailed as she sank. She forgot that her dad would jump in and catch her.

When a big black bear stood up on its hind legs and marched into her campsite while she was eating breakfast with her family, she threw down her porridge and ran screaming into the tent. She forgot that her mom would shoo that old bear away by banging pots and lids together.


But mostly, Chicken Bones got scared when it was time to go to sleep. 

She had many, many dolls and stuffed animals to sleep with. She had her beautiful Pamela doll that she got from her great-aunt Con. Pamela came from France. She had real human hair and skin that felt like peaches. Chicken Bones also had her soft, comfortable Raggedy Ann doll. If you changed Ann’s clothes, she could also be Raggedy Andy! And Chicken Bones had a horse that she could use as a gigantic pillow. She could sleep with it or pretend to ride it!


Chicken Bones also had one funny little creature that her biggest sister Thora made for her. It was a fish. It was sewn with leftover black and white gingham fabric from an apron that Thora made at school. It was stuffed with bits of sponge to make it soft and it had two black button eyes. Chicken Bones liked that little fish because her biggest sister made it for her. So along with Pamela, Raggedy Ann and the horse, Chicken Bones slept with Fish in her hand. It fit just right.

In spite of the comfort of these companions, Chicken Bones still got very scared at bedtime. When she fell asleep, she had nightmares about lions and soldiers. She woke up terrified because she thought her dreams were real. She forgot they weren’t. She leapt from her bed and dashed down the hallway to her parents’ room. She woke them up with her tears and they comforted her and told her everything was all right. They put her back to bed and eventually she fell asleep.


But night after night this happened and Chicken Bones was tired and her parents were too. Finally, one evening, Chicken Bones’ dad came into her room to talk with her. He asked her where Fish was. Of course, it was clutched in her frightened clammy hand.

“Did you know that Fish is a magic fish?” he asked.

Chicken Bones studied Fish carefully and then gazed at her dad.

“Nnno…” said Chicken Bones, feeling a little unsure.

“When your sister made that for you, she gave it special magic powers,” he said. “As long as that little fish is in your hand, nothing can hurt you or scare you. It will protect you every night. It was made just for you.”

Chicken Bones looked up at her dad again. He looked very serious. She looked down at the gingham fish and it did feel a little bit tingly and magical. Chicken Bones started to feel a little bit stronger and a little bit braver. She lay down and she felt more relaxed and sleepy. And she dozed off with Pamela on one side of her and Raggedy Ann on the other side and the horse under her head and her magic Fish cradled in her palm. She had happy dreams that night. She had many safe sweet sleeps. She held Fish every night. She forgot about being scared.


Chicken Bones held Fish for many years, until the gingham wore thin. The sponge stuffing got flat and a seam had to be stitched up again. One of the button eyes came loose and was reattached with some spare red thread.


In spite of its wear and tear, Chicken Bones is happy.

She feels the loving magic of Fish to this day.



©Conni Cartlidge, 2012

Monday, July 9, 2012

Ditch Rainbow




Cool white daisies
Pretty pink roses
Bold red lilies
Dancing yellow lady slippers
Swaying green grass
Flashy black-eyed susans
Timid blue bells
Prickly purple thistles
Gangs of violet clover.




My ditch is a wild prairie rainbow garden.




©Conni Cartlidge, 2012