I am from dusty country roads,
From Vick’s Vapor Rub
And handmade clothes.
I am from the dirt floors of a house built from corrugated iron and boards,
With unshaded lightbulbs dangling from cords.
I am from the mint patch, Arizona honeysuckle, and big blue sky,
The black walnut grove, blooming yucca, and tumbleweeds piled high.

I am from clothes on the line and Kick the Can,
From Andy and Nelda,
The Appalachian and the artisan.
I am from Heather and Nancy and Becky,
From pride and poverty and poetry.
I’m from you’ll catch a cold and don’t hold open the refrigerator door,
Revival meetings, The Old Rugged Cross, and stories of the saints of yore.

I am from Tucson and Scots-Irish and English blood,
From clans and crests
And ‘Touch not the cat but a glove.’
I’m from fresh peaches and blackberries picked by my hand,
Fried okra and black coffee cooked in a pan.
I’m from Great Uncle Fran who could stand on his head,
And Great Granddad who carved the presidents now dead.
I’m from the hillbilly, Confederate, Merchant Marine,
The carpenter, the teacher, and ghosts that are seen.

I am from Mama’s stitched up album,
Careful labels on each photo
Tell where I’m from.
Old black and whites with yellowed corner tape
Reveal my mother with an eye for landscape.
I am from the snapshot of a small girl by the mailbox and mesquite,
A lovely memory from a lonely street.
I am from books and words and walks,
From designs in the clouds and the circling of hawks.
Where are you from?

I wrote this poem in response to the meme over at Chrysalis. Tonight is the last night to enter her contest, but I hope you’ll write your own and share it with me. The template for this poem is here, and the original poem of this style by George Ella Lyon is here.

Technorati Tags: family life, I Am From, poetry

I did a load of dishes and a load of laundry, swept the kitchen and the mud room, and that’s all I can muster. It’s about 8:30 p.m. and I’m ready for bed. I’ll get up early. I talk myself into going to bed early with “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” I hope it works. It’s not usually my nature to get to bed early, but I am unusually tired.

I need to rise early to make a batch of sugar cookies for the kids at school. We’re celebrating Valentine’s Day tomorrow. I’m realizing at the moment that I have nothing with which to decorate the cookies, so they will be plain Jane. At least I have a heart-shaped cookie cutter. The cookies will be all the healthier, I’m telling myself. Will the kids buy it? Uh-oh, I also just realized I’m not supposed to take home-baked goodies to school. Store-bought only. Great, let’s deprive kids of healthier options, it’s the law. Bring on the artificial colors, flavors, preservatives, and plastic wrapping.

I’ve been having many days in a row of putting my foot in my mouth. I did it again today. What’s with me? Do you have weeks like this? Do you ever ask the good Lord WHY can’t I learn my lesson about [fill in the blank]? Why am I so dull-headed? Geez.

I digress, from nothing, so it’s okay.

I’m emptied of all my not-very-deep thoughts, so now I’ll head to bed. Tomorrow is a new day, which I’m grateful for. I have an evening coffee date with two amazing ladies, one a dear friend, and the other the friend of the dear friend. God bless my sweet husband for getting the kids to bed, all tucked in with a kiss and a prayer.

Technorati Tags: family life