Obligatory Mother's Day Post

Planning to perform this piece tomorrow night at GUSA by Victoria, along with a Mother's Day excerpt from #25Reasons.

Chicken Soup for the Transcendentalist Soul

My mom said
"Eat your vegetables -- And
"Get a good night's sleep.
"Don't forget to say your prayers
"Close your eyes, count some sheep," But

Momma never told me -- How
To achieve perfection -- And
Now I guess I understand -- That
It was something she didn't know.

So I -- Ate my vegetables. And
Said my good night prayers. But
Lay awake in my bed
Too concerned with all my cares. Like

What would I be when I grow up
And who would I marry
Would my kids eat their vegetables
Believe the things that I believe in?

Woke up next morning
Never knowing I was fast asleep
But knowing God was there for me
Prayed the Lord my soul to keep

My mom said
"Do your homework now. And
"That's enough TV
"Are you ready for the science fair?
"Did you study for the Spelling Bee?"

And it got so aggravating
Seemed like she was so caught up
There's so much more to life at school
Than Science Fairs and empty cups.

But I turned off the television
Cracked a book
(or sometimes three). And tried my best to do my best
I wanted her to be proud of me.

Woke up next morning
Never knowing I'd been fast asleep
But knowing God was there for me
Prayed the Lord my soul to keep.

My mom said
"Don't you fall too hard. When
"That first boy looks at you
"You must be kind to everyone. But
"Don't let them walk all over you."

Then came the most disgusting part. She
Wanted to kiss me goodbye. At school
In front of all my friends
I couldn't Hide. Or disappear. Or die.

So I let her kiss me then. And

She waved as she drove away.
I'm glad I know she cares for me
Even though I'll never say it (oops!).

What would I be when I grow up
And who would I marry
Would I embarrass my own kids
The way that mom embarrassed me?

Woke up next morning
Never knowing I was fast asleep
But knowing God was there for me
Prayed the Lord my soul to keep.

And now that I'm a mom myself. I'm
Glad she doesn't laugh at me
'Cuz my kid won't eat vegetables. And
Dodges responsibilities.

My soul
Could use some chicken soup. And
My son's hug could fill a bowl. Though
I would like to keep him small
Growing up is his main goal.

What will he be when he grows up
Will he ever marry
And if he questions all I say
Will I be wise enough to hear him?

Woke up next morning
Never knowing I'd been fast asleep
But knowing God was there for me
Prayed the Lord my soul to keep.

Just Sew Stories with GUSA by Victoria

I am putting together a short story collection for an African fashion designer for a series of sewing and crafting camps this summer. Victoria has been in business in York for about a year, and this camp is a brand new thing we are trying. In addition to her marvelous fashions, her shop includes art from local artists. She has also been teaching Swahili and sewing classes, which I think is awesome! I think we are going to have tons of fun this summer.

If you are in York, certainly pay her a visit at GUSA by Victoria.

Anyway, in keeping with her theme of African design for these summer camp experiences, I am writing a book of short stories where sewing or crafting is relevant to the story in some way. I know I am rewriting a Kenyan Cinderella story (no prince, no glass slipper, but a talking flamingo) and a Kenyan version of the Miller's Daughter/Rumpelstiltskin (no baby, no talking animals, but a smart young woman having to find a way out of a bad situation with a tricky suitor).

I also wanted to include some modern stories, and I definitely wanted a few stories were boys were sewing, too. I hope you'll enjoy this first one I want to share with you.

Boys Sew, Too

“Drat! The button came off my sweater and I can’t get this thread through my needle!” Evie complained to her friend Nairobi. Classes had been dismissed early, so students were on the playgorund outside the building. Parents would be arriving soon, but not immediately.

“Can I help?” Evan, a boy from their class, asked.

“You?” Evie scoffed. “Boys can’t sew!”

She and Nairobi laughed at the idea.

“We do, too!” Evan insisted. “When I was very young, I watched my grandfather repair fishing nets. Later, he showed me how. Then, my mother said if I fix any holes I rip in my clothes while playing, I won’t get in trouble for them. So I’m pretty good now.” Evan puffed out his chest with pride, and twisted his leg to show some stitches that were not created by the original designer. “See? Lots of practice.”

Image Created by Phyl Campbell using StoryBoard That!

Evie looked at Evan. Then she looked at Nairobi. Both girls shrugged their shoulders. It was worth a try.

“All right. I guess I trust you.” Evie said finally.

“Gee. Thanks. Thanks a lot.” Evan said with a frown.

“Besides,” Evie added, “buttons are easy. I just can’t get my thread through the eye of my needle, and I left my threader at home.”

“Why don’t you just wait until you get home?” Nairobi wanted to know.

“I don’t get home until late tonight. I have a music lesson, and then soccer practice,” Evie replied.

Evan cleared his throat. “Are you going to let me help? Can I see your needle?”

“I don’t know. CAN you?” Nairobi teased.

“Do you want my help or not?” Evan held out his hand impatiently.

Evie handed him the needle. “You MAY have it,” she said.

Evan held the needle with one hand. The eye of the needle was small, but his plan would still work. He slid his backpack off his shoulder and with his free hand fished out a notebook. He tore a small corner of a piece of paper out of the notebook. He folded the small piece in half and held it to the eye of the needle. Unsatisfied, he tore the piece even smaller, folded it in half again, and held it to the eye of the needle once more.

Evie and Nairobi watched, fascinated.

“What are you doing?” Nairobi asked.

“You’ll see. Evie, hand me the thread, please.”

Evie handed Evan the thread. Evan placed the edge of the thread inside the fold of the small piece of paper. Then, he pushed the paper with the thread inside through the eye of the needle.

When he finished, he pulled the paper off the thread and stuffed it in his pocket. The needle was threaded.

Image Created by Phyl Campbell using MS Paint.

“Whoah! That was cool!” Nairobi said.

Evan grinned. “I know.” He handed the threaded needle back to Evie. “You CAN have that back now,” he teased. He put his notebook back in his backpack and started to walk away.

“Wait, Evan.”

“Yeah?” Evan turned back toward the girls.

“That was really cool, Evan,” Evie said. “Thanks for showing us that trick.” She set to work re-attaching the button to her sweater.

“You’re welcome. Glad I could help.” Evan said.

“All done!” Evie said. She snipped the last thread and put her tiny sewing kit away.

“Great! Now you can help me with something,” Evan said.

“Sure. What is it?”

“See, well, I was playing tag over there and I was IT.” He reached over and tagged Evie. “But now you are!”

“Hey! Wait a minute! Evan!”

“No tagbacks!”

Evie quickly reached over and tagged Nairobi. “No tagbacks.”

Both girls got up to join their friends in the game.

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I'd love to hear your comments!