A Portrait in Words

I've discovered a new literary love. There are several books that I keep as a reflection of who I am - I think you can understand a lot about a person if you read the books they love - and recently a new volume was added to the stack.

"Mrs. Miniver" appeared as serial articles in the London Times in the 1940s. I saw a book of the collected articles at the Friends of the Public Library book sale and added it to my cart solely because it was from the 1940s and still had the original dust jacket. Since then, I've come to love Mrs. Miniver and her family.

Mrs. Miniver is a slightly older, more domestic version of myself. She considers picking an appointment book something to be done with care, she is reluctant to part with an old car, she sees the world in little moments, and is grateful to live in London where she can greet the first day of Spring three separate times.

This book is smart, thoughtful, and funny. And thoroughly feminine. That's me all over - sugar and spice and everything nice. Mrs. Miniver is naive and caring and lacks those qualities that make one generally respected today - sarcasm, a sharp eye, political commentary. There is something youthful in the quality of being saddened by events rather than embittered, and her philosophy is of a quiet, pastoral vein.

I love finding characters who understand me and think my thoughts. I suppose it's a form of narcissism, but it's very refreshing to find yourself within the pages of a book. And if anyone is curious what my private world contains, just read "Mrs. Miniver," add a hearty helping of artistic endeavor, and you'll have a fairly accurate portrait of Lady Kelli Elese Kirkman.

Service with a smile

Tonight's post is an I-can't-sleep post so I apologize in advance if my words are incoherent or not cohesive. I want to sleep, I just....can't. C'est la vie.

Recently I wrote singing the praises of summer, but there is one drawback to the good life between June and September: ennui. I am a busy person. I like my life full and exciting. But when I have nothing scheduled for weeks at a time I have to work hard to make those little benchmarks in the day or week that help me keep track of where I'm at!

Monday was the day I felt the first strains of listlessness wafting through the air. I biked downtown, ran some errands, got some lunch, and made progress on a story, but then I came home and didn't know what to do with myself for the rest of the evening. Boredom. Apathy. These are my enemies.

Today, however, was nice. Today I was needed. Today I was helpful. Today I had a purpose. I am never happier than when I can be of assistance to someone, especially in a tight spot. Because people are important to me, and it's nice to be able to show that in a tangible way by giving up my time to be there for my friends. And being needed is always nice. That's the great thing about serving others. It's not just a one-way street. The service you do blesses you, in turn, as much as it blesses those who you serve. So, thank you, Ben, for giving me the opportunity to be useful today. It was a good day.

Killer Converse For An Idle Hour

Here's something I started when I was killing some time at a bakery. I don't know if I'll take the story anywhere, but it was a fun character sketch. :)

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The first thing she noticed about him was his surprising choice of footwear. Converse were not often seen in this town of professionals, and his choice of rainbow splattered print was daring, to say the least. He was sitting on a ledge downtown, watching the suit-clad businessmen walk purposefully to and fro, a contented and easy smile playing on his lips. There was something youthful about him, as if she was witnessing a slightly grown, but no less mischievous version of Peter Pan. He had a sandwich in his hand and a habit of suddenly looking at it in surprise, as if he’d forgotten he was in the middle of his lunch before he became lazily engrossed in watching people pass by.

She observed him from a distance, intrigued by this colorful stranger, wondering where he’d come from; he was obviously new to the east coast. What might his purpose be? It was then that she noticed he was listening to music. Everyone noticed. He was suddenly singing at the top of his lungs, head back, eyes closed, as if this was the most important moment of his life and it required vocal prowess.

This display of social affront, combined with the colorful converse, made her wonder if his brain was fully developed. She dismissed the idea after watching a short while longer as he checked his watch, dismounted the ledge in a quickly agile jump, and sauntered down the road and around the corner. She smiled as she watched the stranger go.

Summer: Occupied

The summer gives many gifts to those of us who labor during the academic year. Being a teacher comes with many challenges, but this one gem of a perk outweighs almost all others. Summer. Who can resist its sultry call: the sounds of the river, the pervading smell of sunscreen, the heat driving all but lethargy from your body. This is life, this is happiness, this is heaven!

And with the summer comes Time. Bountiful, beautiful, endless Time! And so I've decided to put that tool to use and create a canvas for my words. Thus, the blog was born. There is no theme to this blog, no pressing purpose; only my desire to have a place to practice the craft of a wordsmith and keep myself occasionally occupied on the long, blessed summer days.

And so, happy summering, all!