the rings in the whiffletree count their secrets
1. Because many of my friends live across the state, there are some situations in which I have never seen them, so I try to picture them in those situations. It is a fascinating exercise.
For instance, grocery shopping. I do not know how my friends shop for groceries. Do they push a cart slowly down every single aisle? Do they walk in and pick out exactly what they want? Do they use a cart or a basket? Do they try to carry a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs in their hands? Do they have a grocery list or do they use their memory? (If they have a grocery list, is it written on their hand or on a piece of paper?) Do they bring a calculator so they can calculate the best value? Do they read the nutrition labels? Do they talk out loud to themselves? If they decide that they do not want to purchase an item that they originally chose, do they return it to its proper place or do they set it on the closest shelf? Do they talk to the check out girl about the weather? Do they rummage through their pockets for exact change? Do they help bag their own groceries when the bagger is at another check out? Do they use paper or plastic?
I have formed such a vivid mental image of each of my friends grocery shopping, that when I am at the grocery store, I sometimes turn onto the next aisle and I fully expect that they will be there. They never are. But if they were, I know exactly what they would be doing. (I am trying to decide if this is creepy or just highly imaginative.)
2. Last week we (Susan, Mom, and I) were seated around the table in the schoolroom, copying a passage of Philippians. Mom was looked up from her page and noticed a Student Driver vehicle slowly driving past our house. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "I think they are going to do a three point turn!" Laughing, she grabbed our white board and wrote a big, fat "8" on it. I watched, curious, as my mother ran outside to the front steps. As the Student Driver executed a three-point turn and began to drive away, my mother held up the whiteboard with all of the seriousness of an Olympic judge: a score eight out of ten. It was a strange and profound moment.
3. I ate my first grapefruit. Amanda brought me one today during Spanish class, and explained to me how to cut it and eat it. I took it home and sliced open the yellow skin into halves, with a nice circle of pink in the center. It looked delightful. Using my spoon, I dipped into it (clockwise) and it bounced back at me, squirting juice into my eye. I had a battle with the grapefruit. At the end, juice was all over the counter and the grapefruit was mangled and I had not been able to enjoy more than three bites. Apparently I need a highly evolved form of cutlery known as a grapefruit spoon.
4. I really like Carl Sandburg, a lot. I like the words he uses and the way he uses them and what he has to say. I like how he mixes the concrete with the abstract. I like how he uses personification. I like his use of "..." in the middle of his poems. I just like Carl Sandburg.
For instance, grocery shopping. I do not know how my friends shop for groceries. Do they push a cart slowly down every single aisle? Do they walk in and pick out exactly what they want? Do they use a cart or a basket? Do they try to carry a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs in their hands? Do they have a grocery list or do they use their memory? (If they have a grocery list, is it written on their hand or on a piece of paper?) Do they bring a calculator so they can calculate the best value? Do they read the nutrition labels? Do they talk out loud to themselves? If they decide that they do not want to purchase an item that they originally chose, do they return it to its proper place or do they set it on the closest shelf? Do they talk to the check out girl about the weather? Do they rummage through their pockets for exact change? Do they help bag their own groceries when the bagger is at another check out? Do they use paper or plastic?
I have formed such a vivid mental image of each of my friends grocery shopping, that when I am at the grocery store, I sometimes turn onto the next aisle and I fully expect that they will be there. They never are. But if they were, I know exactly what they would be doing. (I am trying to decide if this is creepy or just highly imaginative.)
2. Last week we (Susan, Mom, and I) were seated around the table in the schoolroom, copying a passage of Philippians. Mom was looked up from her page and noticed a Student Driver vehicle slowly driving past our house. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "I think they are going to do a three point turn!" Laughing, she grabbed our white board and wrote a big, fat "8" on it. I watched, curious, as my mother ran outside to the front steps. As the Student Driver executed a three-point turn and began to drive away, my mother held up the whiteboard with all of the seriousness of an Olympic judge: a score eight out of ten. It was a strange and profound moment.
3. I ate my first grapefruit. Amanda brought me one today during Spanish class, and explained to me how to cut it and eat it. I took it home and sliced open the yellow skin into halves, with a nice circle of pink in the center. It looked delightful. Using my spoon, I dipped into it (clockwise) and it bounced back at me, squirting juice into my eye. I had a battle with the grapefruit. At the end, juice was all over the counter and the grapefruit was mangled and I had not been able to enjoy more than three bites. Apparently I need a highly evolved form of cutlery known as a grapefruit spoon.
4. I really like Carl Sandburg, a lot. I like the words he uses and the way he uses them and what he has to say. I like how he mixes the concrete with the abstract. I like how he uses personification. I like his use of "..." in the middle of his poems. I just like Carl Sandburg.
6 comments:
for some reason, i've had your mom all wrong. lol
Lauren,
I don't think I have ever enjoyed any blog post anywhere as much as I have this one. It is altogether. . . delightful. (That sounds cheesey, I know, but I do mean it.)
And I love Sandburg as well. He always makes me look at things differently. Sometimes, when you read a poet, (like e.e. cummings, for example), you get the feeling that they are being novel for novelty's sake- like the etherized patient simile- this is entirely personal opinion, but I have never thought he really meant it, if you know what I mean.
But with Sandburg, I have always gotten a feeling of sincerity - he really does see things this way. I think sincerity is as important in poetry as what is actually being said. Not to say that idiocy sincerely said is great poetry, but just that it is as important as content.
And incidentally, your post, I think, has both.
"Apparently I need a highly evolved form of cutlery known as a grapefruit spoon."
That gave me a hearty laugh...man that's actually really funny. eating a grapefruit with a regular spoon is like building a zip line...it works but not really.
"Do they try to carry a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs in their hands?"
woah, have you been spying on me?! mom had me stop by the grocery store last week for those exact items. except in addition i had to get a carton of oj. it took me a while to figure out how to carry all that without looking foolish, but eventually i came up with a configuration. i dont know why i have such an aversion to carts. i guess they're just kindof emasculating- unless you do like most men around here who affirm their manliness by topping off their grocery carts with 3 or 4 cases of beer. These guys are always careful to hide stuff like milk and eggs between strategically placed bags of chips etc. So when they're in the checkout, everyone's like "woah that guy's havin a party tonight!" when in reality the true story is "that guy's wife made him stop on his way home from work to get celery, flour, and goat cheese."
I can see you grocery shopping. You are one of those people who carries around a list on a piece of flowered paper and only gets things off of the shelf in the order that they appear on said list.
Unfortunately, I cannot share with you in your affinity for Carl Sandburg. My disgust for him creeps like the fog on little cat feet.
And just in case you are interested, I ride the shopping cart up and down aisles and use paper bags.
Interesting to know.
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