JOYCE'S JOTS

I just put a loaf of banana bread in the oven.  Tried something new.  I added a cup of fresh blueberries.  Will it be fantastic or a flop?  Only time will tell.  I let you know later.

Had a great day yesterday.  I had pizza with a group of girls I taught over forty years ago.  It was so much fun to figure out who they were (a couple I recognized) and to learn all about their lives now.  They were a happy group and within a few minutes you would have thought we had seen each other just the other day.  Good friends have no trouble relating.

I was sorry to learn of the death of two of the "girl's: husbands. 

Two of the girls were still happily married to their high school sweethearts.  That is so great.  All of them had interesting stories to tell and one girl brought her ninety plus mom, who was certainly young at heart.

It is getting harder and harder for me to go places.  Wish I had a big house and I could just have them all come here.

I missed a few of the girls that said they were coming, but didn't make it.  I have always though so much of all "my kids" and I am very happy that they invited me.  Thanks kids.

Until next time,
Be kind to one another.

Joyce

JOYCE'S JOTS

I really enjoyed reading in the Columbian newspaper this morning,  about the kids who are graduating from high school this year.  It is difficult for me to imagine how bright they are.  They seem so mature to me as opposed to kids when I was a teen.

They planned to be everything from a Dr.,a musician, to a pilot and a rodeo competitor, and many other vocations.  Not only were these their goals, they have been planning and studying for this even before they get out of high school.  Wow.....how different is this than when I went to high school.  How much wiser and more meaningful.

Most of the boys I knew were dying to get out of school so they could get a job.  The girls wanted to get married and raise a family.  The thought of college never even entered our minds.  The only exception were   the kids who come from families that had money, had been to college and had just naturally planned on their kids going to college too.

The thing most girls in my category saw the ads in the newspaper for Hope Chests......Ah, to have a beautiful cedar chest to put all our things we made for the home we hoped to have.  We had a sewing group and we crocheted doilies, embroidered  dish towels with days of the week on them. (must have a new dist towel every day you know), bought pillow case tubing and ironed on designs to embroider.   

I got my cedar chest and all I could think about was how my house would look, etc.   College never once entered my mind.

Twenty years later my husband and I went to college, but that's another story.  All I can say is kudos to the kids of today.  I wish them success in their lives and in following their dreams.

Until next time,
Be kind to one another.

Joyce

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JOYCE'S JOTS

Yesterday was Walt Whitman's Birthday.  I love his  Leaves of Grass.  My favorite poem in that book is A Child went "Forth.  In the poem he describes all the things that a child encounters during a cay and how those things all become a part of him.

It always takes me back to when I taught Kindergarten.  Each thing those kids did each day became part of them.  In fact, when you stop to think about it, everything that we come in contact each day also becomes a part of us.  The way we thin,k the way we react to scents and sounds, etc. 

A few years ago,I took a class in creative writing with a group of kids that had just graduated from high school.  I wasn't sure how they would react to an older woman in their class, but not to worry.  We had a blast and I really enjoyed it.  Our instructor asked us to pick one of our favorite poets and write a poem using his or her style.  I would like to share the poem I wrote using A child went Forth  as the style I chose.



    An old woman went out every day
and each thing she saw, that  thing she became,
and that thing became part of her for the day
              or a certain part of
  the day or for many years, or styretching' \
                cycles of years.
    The misting pond b became a part
              of this woman,
and ducks, and brown and orange lilies, and

           brown and
   orange leaves, and the whistle of
          the meadow lark,
and the eight-month corn, and the tomatoes'
         red shining skins,
  and the green-bean vines, and the
           verdant cukes
and the abundant harvest of the field, or in the
           kitchen garden.
   And the ants, trudging slowly
       through there, and
      the rich, moist earth,
and the wiggling worms with their long, thin
        forms all became a part of her.

The school books of ninth-month and tenth
              month became a part of her.
             Osmiroid-lettering pens, and
                   black ink and the
parchment paper in profusion, and the paint
         post filled with color and the
               pictures afterward.
And note-books, and the simplest pencils in
                 their box,
      and the young girl of aubergine-hair
                 and rose tattoo,
drawing pictures on the chalk board, and the
      boy that swaggered past on
         his way to the library,
  and the happy girls that past
        and the lonely girls,
and the tall word-wise professor, and the
   colorful art instructor, and the new
   attitude in both school and public
          wherever she went.
This became a part of that old woman who
           went out every day, and who
          now becomes, and will always
              become every day.
                 Thanks Walt

So, until next time
Be Kind to One-Another

Joyce