I want to tell you things…
Posted on | August 7, 2009 | 22 Comments
I want to tell you things. I want to capture moments and pin them down, and preserve them like the fragile wings of the butterflies we sometimes find dead along the roadside at the end of summer.
I want to tell you about the fragrance of peaches. The way they melt in my mouth, the fragrance filling every crevice of memory and consciousness with the utter sweetness of late summer. They are a thing to behold, peaches, now, when you can cut them in half, twisting so that the fruit separates easily from the pit and the skin slides off like a party dress.
I want to tell you about the way the house smelled like blueberry boy bait this afternoon. Cakey and heavenly, made with freshly ground flour and local berries.
I want to tell you about the fat green watermelon resting on my counter, its round rind a map of green and pale stripes. It will split open easily, revealing the red fruit and dark seeds. Watermelon is summer. Summer is red sticky juice running down little boy’s chins, and spitting seeds, and sitting on the front step with big slices watching the storm clouds come. In the garden our own sugar babies and moon and stars are ripening, their leaves like ruffled skirts creeping over ground to fraternize the long girlish legs of the corn.
I want to tell you how everything is always one thing and then another. How a morning can be good or bad, and so the day will go, always sort of unexpected. Always abrupt and unfolding. Every day is a small surprise.
I am struck by this again and again: that being alive sometimes feels so fickle and permeable, each day a handful of pebbled moments bumping up against each other in god’s pockets. The mountains are blue. The day ends earlier. The clouds come. They bring rain. I wake up with a headache wanting to cry; but then there is the fragrance of roses by the stoop, summer peaches, watermelon, boy bait on plates with forks and crumbs.
I want you to understand this, because I want to understand it too: that today can be anything. That it can be lost and reclaimed a hundred times.
* * *
I also want to tell you thank you for your comments on my last post. I loved reading every single one. Loved discovering some new blogs and old favorites and all the amazing goals for August that you have. I want to come here daily, post things, share snippets, but the hours are never long enough. Never. I’m falling behind on my word count, though I’m typing frantically to keep up (just above 12k today.)
And oh, the headache that is this morning. Sigh.
What are you up to today?
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22 Responses to “I want to tell you things…”
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I am Christina Rosalie
Hello. I'm so happy you've stopped by!
I am a multimedia storyteller, digital strategist, idea starter, stalker of wonder, finder of four leaf clovers, MFA graduate student, and mama of boys. My first book,
will be published by SKIRT! Books in September, 2012.
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August 7th, 2009 @ 1:51 pm
Your words are smooth like a sulty wine. Your decriptions, delicious.
We’re leavining it to the universe to show us the way today. I hope yours steps up and shakes away the ache.
I hope your weekend is beautiful.
August 7th, 2009 @ 2:00 pm
The weird thing is: I am making Blueberry Boy Bait TONIGHT! We went blueberry picking last week, and we just finished the blueberry pie last night…. I am excited to try it!
Your post was so lovely. I could smell the peaches and feel the watermelon juice running down my chin.
Hope the headache goes away soon.
Keep on telling all those things, I want to sit by your feet and listen.
August 7th, 2009 @ 2:08 pm
Christina–thanks for your words. Moments before I read them, I found out my dad has colon cancer. My mom has had breast cancer for a year, so this has me catching my breath a bit in shock. Today CAN be anything. I can reclaim this day with my faith in hand. Cherishing the beautiful sunshine that this day has brought and the cup of coffee I am leaving the office to find. I can sit by the trees in a special place I know nearby and pray and catch up to this news. This day can still be beautiful.
August 7th, 2009 @ 2:17 pm
I have pears ripening on the counter and a ripe cantaloupe that I just cut into sections. It is the best and juiciest yet!
August 7th, 2009 @ 3:15 pm
Working, sort of. Trying to focus but it is Friday and I am not being very successful. Looking forward to Pirates at the local beach, a Princess birthday party for a four year old, running, and hanging with the wee tots this weekend!
Headaches… bah. Try to find some Arnica to rub into your neck/shoulders if they are sore and a heating pad on top, lots of stretching and of course some Tylenol – this always seems to wipe out my worst headaches when I get them and I get them often!
August 7th, 2009 @ 3:28 pm
Well, I missed commenting on your last post; however, I am a long-time reader and fan of your gorgeous writing!
Today, I am feeling a bit under the weather, but I made it to work anyways. I teach 8th grade, and have a test to give, notes to administer and a million things to do, or so it feels. This weekend, I am looking forward to making a dent in some books, writing a lot, time with dear friends and family and sleeping as much as possible.
Hope your headache feels better soon.
August 7th, 2009 @ 4:54 pm
Today:
The luxury of sleeping in with my mom. Bright sun coming through our windows (just moved in Sunday and still lacking room darkening shades). Cuddles under the blanket.
Then making some fruit salad: berries, watermelon… yum.
The anticipation of a day out in the city with my thoughts, then jazz in the sculpture garden at the National Museum, and an Italian dinner al fresco with his parents.
Pretty damn good day actually.
August 7th, 2009 @ 6:11 pm
It feels like tapping into some vast secret, doesn’t it? Figuring out how malleable days really are? It’s why I napped when the girls did this morning, to start the damn thing over and enjoy our sun-drenched afternoon, even in the midst of last-minute packing for our camping trip.
I love your August writing goal and once again am flummoxed: How, HOW do you find time to spill so many words onto the page with two little boys, a home, and a body to care for? Props to you for diving into the new writing obsession while it’s still an obsession, and best of luck as you work toward finishing it! (Will we get to read it in the end?)
August 7th, 2009 @ 6:20 pm
I love that you have characters whispering in your ears… I would love that sort of sweet dancing.
And August: I’m heading to your part of the woods in a few days, actually. I’m attending Bread Loaf for the first time, which has left me incredibly jittery, nervous, thrilled.
And then the school year turns over and it’s back again, which I’ve missed fiercely, though I’m quite aware of how much more I enjoy being a student in comparison to teaching.
Ah well.
Beautiful words, as always.
August 7th, 2009 @ 7:10 pm
Today brought more vine-ripened tomatoes, summer squash, and cucumbers. The peaches will be ready just after Labor Day and I will spend the week in a steamy, peach-infused kitchen putting them up for winter.
Today I plan on soaking up some sun while weeding the herb garden – such good therapy, both. And then to the movie for a matinee of Julie & Julia before dinner with old and new friends. I love days like this full of sun, delicious food and good company.
August 7th, 2009 @ 7:12 pm
I love the way you write, it’s always a treat to see a new post in my reader.
Today I worked and it was good. I’m blessed that I love what I do (acupuncturist) and even more, that I can make my own hours. Instead of having our babysitter so I can see more patients, I’m going into the city for a dinner date with my husband for mexican food. And I’m looking forward to the train ride in, 40 min. of uninterrupted reading.
Enjoy your weekend!
August 7th, 2009 @ 7:18 pm
Today is my 5th wedding anniversary. This year, we’re taking our 18-month-old son with us to our dinner out.
August 7th, 2009 @ 8:34 pm
Today I spent a strangely large amount of time thinking about you.
August 7th, 2009 @ 8:43 pm
it might be hormones returning, but this post just brought tears to my eyes. thanks for this moment.
August 7th, 2009 @ 10:40 pm
You’ve made me want to eat a nectarine.
August 8th, 2009 @ 4:10 am
Today was a good day! Zoo…ALL DAY…with the boys. Do I care that sweat just runs off me? It was 91–whatamigonado? I felt better today, I was loving EVERYTHING–camel rides, sky lift, Hawaiian Ice (Grape), snow leopard, tapir, Jamison pretending to be this animal or that. Curtis able to WALK and not scuf up his little knees at the spray park. Happiness.
August 8th, 2009 @ 3:39 pm
I want to tell you thank you for having an amazing blog and sharing your life with me…with everyone. For showing us that thing simple things in life are the truly the things that should be celebrated. I appreciate it so much. Sometimes I go days or months without visiting your blog and then there are times when I read it more frequently. I call you my “soul blogger” on my blog. And every now and again when this Fiest song plays, I think of you:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZDZwThM7vAg
I wish you and your family all the best in life, my virtual friend in my head.
Roxanne
August 8th, 2009 @ 7:20 pm
Your blog was the last thing I read before going to bed last night–just wanted to thank you for the line of thought. I fell asleep to memories of my babies–cherished tiny moments that have become delicate threads in my fabric. I know I’ve already forgotten so many things but it makes me very happy to remember at least some things like they only just happened Have a nice weekend!
August 9th, 2009 @ 3:17 am
today is my first day of living after turning 45…
so today….I’m just glad to be here, being loved and loving
August 9th, 2009 @ 4:32 pm
Keep going on your writing!
I know you can do it!
I have faith in you!!!
tara
August 13th, 2009 @ 5:46 am
I am reading through your posts, and your writing is incredible there is really nothing left for me to say in my comments except that your words are exquisite, so smooth like velvet. I appreciate how deeply you fell life and that is the only way to live it!
August 14th, 2009 @ 6:07 am
“and the skin slides off like a party dress.”
I don’t think I’ll ever look at a peach the same way again. Fantastic play of words.