Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry

Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.

There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.

                                         

                                         - Howard Nemerov

I heard Billy Collins reading this on KUOW on Monday, because he had been asked this question by the interviewer and because it was – for once – snowing rather than raining in Seattle.  

Just read it through a few times, in light of its title.  If you don't get the shivers, then I don't know what to say to you.

Awww... That was nice.

The Georges & The Jewels.  If you loved Misty of Chincoteague or The Black Stallion as a kid, your kid might just love Jane Smiley's YA novel.  I did.

It's a quiet, horsey kind of book (big surprise), told by Abby Lovitt, a seventh grader from a born-again family that buys half-broke horses and then trains them up for sale.  Set somewhere in Northern California in the somewhat recent past, this relaxed but quick-moving tale rings true:  Smiley's got seventh grade internal naivete and awkwardly orchestrated interpersonal drama pegged, and she clearly grew up riding, just like Abby.  As we enjoy our protagonist's solid decency and quiet observance of the life all around her, we also explore the ways of geldings (Georges) vs. mares (Jewels) with a little bit of horse-whispering along the way. 

My guess is that old forty-something fogeys like me will smile gently and nod, recalling the psychologically complex teen truths and traumas Smiley can conjure, while tweens will see themselves and their friends in these characters so far removed from their own daily lives.

A quick read, this one's bound to get passed around from (would-be) rider to (would-be) rider.  Definitely an unpretentiously pleasant and true-feeling tale.  Give it an afternoon.  I don't think you'll regret it.

L

p.s. What was my ACTION?  You say.  Well, I made pinecone turkeys.

How in heaven's name does that relate to this book? You ask.  Well, reading about how Abby and her classmate Kyle crafted a clay version of Mission San Juan Bautista for a school-wide CA history project, I waxed nostalgic for the days of dioramas, Crayolas, and Silly Putty.  Neither Abby nor Kyle had much money, so they had to make do.  Hence, I decided to indulge my inner craftinator, but on a budget.  I wanted decorations to freakify the day, to make Thanksgiving edgy again.  And I did myself proud.

Check out yesterday's post to see my creepily fetching gobblers: icons of the day they be.  And happily for all, no actual turkeys were sacrificed at my house this Thanksgiving.

Pedestrian pinecone pop-art or protectors of poultry?  Jury's out.

Fail better. Grateful for the opportunity.

Yup, Beckett's still right:
 "Ever tried.  Ever failed.  No matter.  Try again.  Fail again.  Fail better."

Sometimes it's all we can do.

So my Thanksgiving will be small and local.  Going nowhere, but organic, and with pinecone turkeys. 

Thank you to The Compassionate Instinct for better food choices and to The Georges & The Jewels (Jane Smiley, YA horse novel) for the inspiration to get crafty.

I do not know how to calibrate cosmic magic, but I must say that Goethe may be right as well:  When we act openheartedly and with courage, the universe steps up to meet us.

I offer gratitude to all those who've tuned in here, even for a moment.  Please come back, and please help me to create a voice here that elevates you, that compells you to give thanks and to fail better.

Tell me what you need, and I'll do my best to deliver it.  No doubt I'll fail, but rest assured: every day I'll fail better.
L

Maximum Read.

Sweet read too.  Fast, fast, fast first in this YA series about a small flock of genetically engineered kids out there fighting for their freedom.  No big surprise: Patterson's a master plotter.  Not so much depth of character except for Max (first person'll do that for ya), but maybe later?

L'accion du jour:
Draw'ring.  The voice in my head demands:  some sorta super-birdie must drip from my pen.  Mayhaps I'll conjure a token of thanks for Marnie, the Max fanatic who simply shrieked (in her winningly exhuberant way) when she learned that I wasn't yet acquainted with her fave female superhero.  She's an artist herself,  as well as a writer-reader-athlete-dancer, so I know she'll appreciate an unexpected thank you from last year's English teacher. Shriek-worthy?  Stay tuned...

Pushing past my ineptitude toward brilliance: Max-worthy for sure, and sweet.
L

p.s.  Another card in the stack (pebble in the pond?  feather in the cap?) of evidence to prove my theory:  the best YA novels nowadays are penned by folks who cut their teeth on adult novels.  This one's pure page turner, but cunningly so.  So: Patterson, Alice Hoffman, Jane Smiley, Orson Scott Card, Neil Gaimon, Terry Pratchett: just a short list of bestselling adult authors who've turned their superior narrative talents to the YA market.  Maybe this trend's resurgence started with Sherman Alexie, no?  Anyone offering additional title suggestions?  I've got a Jane Smiley in my pile...

Simple Gifts.

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,

'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain'd,

To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come round right.

-          Elder Joseph, 1848



FAIL.

        My shopping expedition: a complete bust.

What happened??  After pondering my "rules" and setting what I thought was a generous budget of $50, I decided against traveling to Freddy's because it's about 15 miles away, as opposed to 1 mile for my local grocery store and then 2 miles for Trader Joe's.  Transportation via car = greenhouse gasses.  So...

Stop #1: At my beautifully maintained, locally-owned and operated grocery store: only a few items are marked for point of origin, even the produce in the organic section.  I compared a few items: price for organic produce is generally 3X non-organic produce, some of which IS labeled: Grown in Mexico or USA or Northwest.  Sigh.  I bought a northwest grown onion, plus a USA grown sweet potato and cilantro.

On to TJ's: Much more affordable organic fare, but next to nothing is labeled with its origins.  It's all distributed through CA, but that doesn't mean it was grown there.  In fact, the only choice I could make in terms of point of origin was:  Organic walnut halves (from Uzbekistan) OR California Walnut Halves.  I chose the latter, because I figure that walnuts grow in shells on trees, so the organic element probably isn't as important as it would be on row crops, and clearly the shipping energy impacts would be much less from CA than from Uzbekistan.  Reasonable logic or irresponsible leap toward nationalistic pride? 
And it's this kind of quandary that makes shopping with compassion such a minefield. 

Here's my original list, coded like so:
   * =  fit all of my criteria
   # = fit at least one of my criteria.
   V = vegetarian.  wasn't in my criteria, but helps the planet and all beings

# organic black beans V
# sweet potato V
# onion V
cilantro V
almond flour V
# walnut halves V
green chilis V
frozen dinners V
pumpkin butter V
mache V
greek yogurt V
reduced fat celtic cheddar V 
almond milk V
can of cat food
pot stickers
TOTAL: $38.
Items on my list that I didn't purchase:
Thin bars (no way to know where all those ingredients came from - ditched 'em)
salami (decided that it didn't fit my criteria at all!)

But, wait, you say:  There aren't any items with stars.  What??  Indeed:  I bought absolutely no items that fit all my criteria. 

FAIL.


Must sit and ponder what to do next to get me closer to my goal. 

I AM SO HAPPY I DID THIS. 
L

Fred Meyer and Pollan-anna.

I'm going grocery shopping in an hour at the local "they've got EVERYTHING" grocery/department store, Fred Meyer, and for once I see exactly how I have to act.  I've got to clarify my own food ethics and then see if I can live by them today.

Quick backstory:  Any interview with Michael Pollan's going to be a good interview.  So what could he possibly have to say about The Compassionate Instinct?  Absolutely nothing.  The fact that the editors put this interview into this particular book shows their utter lack of relevant content. 

And yet: This piece struck me as more enjoyable and action-inspiring than virtually anything else in the book so far.  Why?  Michael Pollan knows his complex topic - food systems and how choosing our food relates to our ethics - better than just about anybody, and he can convey his knowledge to us with clarity, humor, and an utter lack of preachyness.  He sees food choices - and I suspect all our day-to-day choices - as opportunities to clarify and exercise our own particular ethics.  And, as he says, in what other realm do we get to vote for what we believe in three times a day?  This strikes me as absolutely right, and I gotta respect him for not prescribing a view, but instead illuminating the complex repercussions of our choices.

What struck me after reading this interview was that I'm not entirely clear about my own food ethics right now.  Am I more about humane treatment of animals or about habitat conservation?  Sustainable farming methods, organic farming methods, or local farming?  Personal health or economic & environmental well-being for all?

To make better choices, I really do need to prioritize a bit.  So:
1. Starting today, no exceptions to the "no factory farmed proteins" rule.  I'm actually about 90% on this already, but let's go for 100%.  If I'm going to purchase a non-veggie protein, then it's got to be not simply organic or "cage free", it's got to be demonstrably humanely raised. 
2.  I'll choose locally farmed, organic produce whenever possible, because that uses less fossil fuel for transport and supports a local, living economy. 

So then, if those are my newly-focused rules, what could be an actual plan for when I'm standing in the produce section? 

How about this?
a.  Set a reasonable budget for food I want to buy.
b. When at the store, gather the items that are locally, organically grown and humanely farmed first.
c. Approximate how much of my budget I have left, adjust, and get as much of the rest of what's on the list as I can afford.

OK:  Freddy's, here I come!
L

P.S. To sample Michael Pollan, just try Michael Pollan.com.