#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Wasp's nest
I found the wasp’s nest hanging, low, from a tree on our property this morning on my walk. And I thought of my poem, above, written a few years ago, about a wasp’s nest found in October. [Published in Plants & Poetry]
Charles River Writers this morning. The writing from the prompt I offered rich, deep, exquisite. Lunch, quick, and into Israeli Group. Offered a warm-up that led into deep sharing and then into spontaneous drawing and art, and more sharing. Our last meeting before the anniversary of Oct. 7, since we will skip next week for the Jewish holiday, Rosh Hashanah. Tonight, met Franci and Liz at the library where I had reserved a study room with glass and brick walls. Very intimate, and they read the script, and it was beautiful. And Liz loves it. And Franci already loved it. And when they were done reading we were all tearful and got up and hugged each other. And now we are making a plan for our next step toward bringing this baby of ours onto the stage, together. I came home and Wave was with my son, his uncle. Having a tea ceremony. They soon came in and Wave told me the good news: Landon said he could keep his metal cup full of tea. And the bad news: Landon burned his fingers. As Landon ran his fingers under cold water, Wave went upstairs and at the top of the stairs said, “Grammy, make sure you check on Landon in the morning to see how his fingers are.” Landon said that was sweet, but unnecessary. I will be on a plane, unable to check on his fingers. Then, the crisis of bedtime. He comes in my room, fully clothed. I am in bed. He is carrying a plastic bag of loose lego pieces. He wonders if I can help him put it together, urgently, before pajamas, before bed. But I say I don’t know how to assemble it, and the pajamas must be put on. He leaves in a serious huff. I follow him back to his mother. More wrangling over the pajamas and legos. His other uncle, Uncle Will, peeks in and says hello. And offers to sit with him to look at the lego pieces. I say, not until the pajamas, and his mother agrees. On go the pajamas. And writing this, I hear from down the hall, the happy voice of a child who has had his lego assembled in just the right way at just the right time. Tea and legos. There was no injury involved with the legos, thank goodness.
