If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.

2. Link back to The Gypsy Mama.com and invite others to join in.

3. Go a little overboard encouraging the writer who linked up before you.

Tender. 

A tender moment, a tendered property, a chicken tender.

The tender look in my son’s eyes when he tells me that he got an 83 on his math test.   That’s great!  I say, then he retorts, that he is not doing as well in math as he used to.

“I always got 90s and now I’m getting 80s, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You don’t study,” I reply.  ”Imagine if you did.”

He had to do a project on FDR last week.  He wrote it up in pencil, mentioning the New Deal, Eleanor, Hitler, and how FDR would not allow himself to be photographed in his wheelchair.  He wanted to show strength not tenderness.

Today’s the oral presentation.  He’s excited.  He knows all the Presidents names; can name them one to 44.  ”Grover Cleveland served two terms…in separate years.  FDR served 12 consecutive years.”

83%.  Didn’t even open a book.

He is so smart.

He is so good.  Such a good boy.

I can’t believe God gave him to me.

I decided to participate in Mary Robinette Kowal’s Month of Letters Challenge which begins in February.

For one month, I will write at least one letter per day.  

Challenging, yes, but I’m looking forward to turning back the clock, if only for a month.

Although I revel in modern methods of correspondence; blogs, twitter, and facebook, I still love the more antiquated form of letter writing.  I appreciate good paper and heavy parchment (hence my obsession with chapbooks) and am particularly fond of Sabon 10 font.

I love listening to the music of Robert Schumann, the charm of lace, old amplifiers (Fender), large dial radios, and vintage guitars; and gravitate towards more classical material particularly books and movies.  (I still, however, love modern medicine and toilet paper).

Today I’m wearing my new (old-fashioned) lace up boots; with long laces,  in “Victorian steam-punk” style (thank you Erin, for the accurate term) and lovely tapestry lining!  

Tapestry lining?  Who’s ever gonna see that?! said my practical husband.  (See photo on right).

I’m also currently re-reading Jane Austen’s Emma along with The Dark Jane Austen Book Club bringing to mind pretty parasols, gowns, and of course good manners.

So old-fashioned letter-writing will be a breeze.

A pleasant and friendly breeze.

*     *     *     *

*    *    *

“You should wear half boots.” After another pause: “Nothing sets off a neat ankle more than a half boot; nankeen galoshed with black looks very well. Do not you like half boots?”

“Yes; but unless they are so stout as to injure their beauty, they are not fit for country walking.”

– Jane Austen, The Watsons

1) Write for five minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.

2) Link back to The Gypsy Mama.com  and then invite others to join in!

I am picturing Vivian Vance and William Frawley from “I Love Lucy.”  Ethel, chubby, kind, and ever-so-patient with Lucy.   Vivid is not Vivian though!  Certainly not Vivian Vance, nor is it Vivian Leigh, Scarlett, from Gone with the Wind; in her white petticoat and green velvet sash.

Two very different characters, that are vivid (there’s the word) to my recollection.  Growing up in Queens watching Vivian Vance on tv while I sipping on Campbell’s tomato soup.  My brother, sitting next to me during our lunch hour while my mother ate her sandwich while standing and opening the mail.  One hour to relax, to watch our show, before Bewitched.  Or was it Bewitch?  The one with Elizabeth Montgomery.

Campbell’s soup, television, Huckapoo-polyester shirts and chocolate milk.  Vivid memory.

I’ve discussed this with several of them and they agree that their expression in art is more than one dimensional.

A talented musician is also a brilliant writer; a gifted dancer is also a skillful painter; a powerful poet, a proficient sculptor.

The same could be said for Jane Austen.  Although she downplayed her musical ability, many think she was in fact much better than she ever admitted.  Even her impromptu poems (this one, written for her niece, Anna) shows the sharpness in her gift of writing poetry:

Her wit descends on foes and friends

Like famed Niagara’s Fall

And travellers gaze in wild amaze,

And listen, one and all

Her judgment sound, thick, black, profound

Like transatlantic groves,

Dispenses aid, and friendly shade

To all that in it roves. 

]]> http://caffeineepiphanies.wordpress.com/2012/01/17/poet-jane/feed/ 0 caffeineepiphanies piano http://caffeineepiphanies.wordpress.com/2012/01/15/dog-in-winter/ http://caffeineepiphanies.wordpress.com/2012/01/15/dog-in-winter/#comments Sun, 15 Jan 2012 23:53:28 +0000 Mary C. M. Phillips, Caffeine Epiphanies http://caffeineepiphanies.wordpress.com/?p=3088 ]]> Tugging

the collar around my neck

tied to the short chain

that leads to the garage.

They must have forgotten

about me

Again.

Has it been two days?

It is January and I am

shivering.

A woman walks briskly towards me

in her winter coat

and fluffy green hat

She looks nervously to and fro

while the boy watches

from the car out front.

Later, I am led

to an area with a soft round bed

I am warm and

I see the boy smile.

I did not know that in heaven

beds could be so soft.

I did not know that

God wears a fluffy green hat.

2012 mary cm phillips

I heard about it through a couple of friends (Veronica and Sarah).

Basically, you’re given a prompt word and then must quickly write without pause for five minutes.

This should be done first thing in the morning, and as you can see, I’m a tad bit late, but hey, this is my first entry, so  show some mercy.

Today’s word is Awake.  Here goes:

Awake.  

With coffee in my hand I awake. 

With dogs at my side I awake.

It is a day of wind, and storm, and odd spurts of sunshine that shouts AWAKE to nature herself. 

I am thankful to be awake and taste the first sip of coffee, the radio on, listening to a preacher tell me that God loves me and that there is grace to be had and I will happily accept it and I open the door to let my dogs run and feel the chill of winter and wind and sunshine that shouts awake in her schizophrenic voice of change.   STOP

January 6th, also known as Little Christmas and  more commonly known as the Feast of the Epiphany; a Christian holiday celebrating the revelation of Jesus, but, principally  the visitation of the Magi to the Baby Jesus.

The Magi’s number was unknown, perhaps numerous.  Meaning, there were not three wise men, as commonly displayed on the lawns of suburbia.

Today is January 7th.  A sad day of remembrance in our household…but I won’t go into that.

We are spending our day removing ornaments from the Christmas tree; making sure we don’t drop those little ornament wires; making doubly sure that the dogs don’t find any little ornament wires that might have slipped through our fingers; taking down our wreath from the second story window; and putting away anything looking remotely Christmas-like.  No more twinkling lights.

I plan to focus on yesterday instead though; a day of epiphany when Love came down to earth.

A date unknown, yet celebrated in which the wise Magi followed a star (or the Shekinah glory in the sky) and knelt before the Christ child, alongside the lowliest of shepherds, seeing love in the flesh.

A love so perfect and unconditional that even the stars above rejoiced.

Drinking coffee is at the top of the list and I am thankful for the daily fix supplied by my trusty Keurig.

The other of course, of late, has been reading Jane Austen.  As an addict can simply never get enough, and six novels can be re-read only so many times, I’ve moved onto sequels and the various mash-ups in the Austen genre.

No complaints. None.

Reading classics is a good obsession and one I won’t be giving up.

But I’ve been slacking off in other areas.  Two in particular:  working-out and reading my Bible.

But, thanks to Thomas Nelson and writer, Steffany Woolsey, A Jane Austen Devotional, is getting me back on track.  Each devotional (about 100 in the book) begins with an excerpt from an Austen book, followed by a spiritual teaching (say, a lesson on hypocrisy regarding Mr. Collins) and then ending with a verse of scripture.   The book itself is a beautiful clothbound hardcover.

It is the perfect, without question, perfect book for me.

I am slacking off a bit less than usual.

Now all I need is a treadmill.

*   *   *

May you

find peace and joy in the smallest of things.  

May your love be great and felicity abound!

And may…

(Uh, oh, experiencing Jane Austen electrolytic-conductor-misfiring

brain molting…short circuiting….

 Jane transmitting. Data received.)

And may you have

A house in town!

Every thing that is charming!

Three daughters married!

and

Ten thousand a year!