My Commonplace Blog

Did I start too early? Too late?
Too soon and the cold will chill your roots. By the end of May, the rotting leaves will no doubt choke your roots. Now is fine.

It’s a grinding chore that revives you and centers me.
Last year there was no center, so you were left to someone else’s care and received a cruel hacking. And from the look, you paid a price. I’m sorry; I just barely had it in me to properly trim you this year. Your evident waning almost brought me to tears.

The winter was hard on you, too. And none of us is young anymore.
Just replant every five or eight years, they say. Seems a thoughtless choice. Most of you have been with me for more than two decades. Been through so much together. All of us show our time.

The snowblower strips the branches on the driveway’s edge. A statement of the obvious, but the scars are brutal. Another blow to your strength. But it’s likely the salt that has brought two of you to the brink.
Again, my apologies. I use only enough to ensure safe passage on the slope, use the mildest kind. But your nature isn’t tolerant to much of that at all. And combined with last year’s reckless cut surely nicked into what strength you had. Did that cost you time?

We’re together today. Warm, breezy, the sun illuminating all that is good and all that is not.

Will you grace me with your presence for one more year? Five years ago I estimated two years more. And we’re all still here. I know the day will come, but do I really? It’s always a sharp surprise.

The zen of trimming is that, in a peculiar abstract sense, you represent the women I know. You work to provide, just like the fine women I know best and love most. It is our mutual nature. Not the ladies who lunch, but when we do, we enjoy it deeply because we earned it ourselves. That is our pride. You provided lunch/sustenance to generations of bees, cover for countless insects and more than a few litters of bunnies. Respect. Yeah, you win.

Today the centering was there. I just didn’t like what I saw. I looked at you and everything looked different. When I looked up, everything looked different. The lovely smell, the buds, the promise is there, as expected. But what I saw beyond, everywhere, had little joy. There is an unwelcome weight.

It’s not your job to center me, to provide happiness. Just being there you do so. And for that I am grateful. I can’t account for the feelings, for the small agonies. I can only treat you with care and respect. And hope that will be enough for you to bloom.

THIS IS A TEST! But if you’re a writer, check janesstories.org on March 8 to submit your work. 🙂

Groundbreaking. Purposeful. Bold. Excellent. Challenging to social constructs.

Johnson Award for Women’s Literature, which will be given to a book published in 2021 that bears the attributes of the award’s namesake. The winner will be awarded $1,000 and will receive the award at a ceremony held in late 2022.

The Jane’s Stories Board will choose the finalists from a field nominated by editors, publishers, authors, booksellers, librarians, and readers—literally anyone who loves exciting books. The award is also intended to showcase the presses that publish such work.

A writer may receive the award for a specific work or for a body of work within the year. Works that were published from January through December 2021 will be eligible for the 2022 award. For purposes of this award, women’s literature includes all literary works by women (born or identified).

The award is open to prose of all genres, including, but not limited to, fiction and nonfiction, creative nonfiction, or memoir. All subgenres are welcome, as well, though works in popular categories such as romance and mystery will succeed only if they rise to the level of literature. Genre-bending is encouraged. The only exclusions are works that may be defined as erotica or pornography. Works that denigrate any groups or categories of people will be eliminated, as well.

Nominations can be made from March 8 to May 8, 2022, and emailed to: janesstoriespf.cja@gmail.com.

Please include with the nominating form: Cover letter with all current contact information for the author (name, address, phone number, and email address).

Well, it has been too long, hasn’t it. So I’ll start with an on-the-nose offering of a Nordic dessert. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, cogitating, and going in mental circles for the past long while. Frankly, I’m tired of listening to myself, so why share.

Instead, enter the present moment: Saw this at Costco and started thinking of mass produced ‘finer’ things, what is lost when a rare treat is commodified, and if I buy this how will I keep myself from eating more than one a day. The last one is easy; I enjoy food, very much thank you, but learning to keep the pleasure in things by not overindulging is a hard-earned trait. Before I wrench my shoulder from patting myself on the back, however, even one a day is a hearty indulgence.

Conversely, do we overglorify some foods? I’ve had the pleasure, on occasion, to try some rare food and sometimes been under impressed. Not to be on the wrong side of the table at Babette’s Feast, but I’m inclined to not assume greatness. Ditto things beyond food. One of the few books I re-read is The Thing Itself: On the Search for Authenticity. And that book inspired eye-rolling from an academic I know. Which is just the wrong response.

Perhaps it’s the English in my heritage: The English may not like music, but they absolutely love the noise it makes.

That’s all the big thinking for today. I’ll work on getting my mind back to the right place for writing this. After I enjoy a stroopwafel. Tomorrow.

It’s already been that kind of year. Nothing disastrous for me, but several people close to me have deeply experienced the painful stuff of life. Being supportive doesn’t change reality but it’s all I’ve got. And, if I’m honest, all this has one waiting for the next foot of the centipede to drop. I’m with Roseanne Roseannadanna on this one: It’s always something.

My usual M.O. doesn’t really help. Head down, plow through each day. And a late, long winter with seemingly endless gray days doesn’t help either. I shake my fist at you, Mother Nature!

The days are lengthening, the glowing orb is in the sky today, and Target carries the new Magnum ice cream. A little something for the day that started with a long walk and fresh bagels. There were also a couple of donuts from the long-established-local-donut-place-that-closed-and-recently-opened-in-a-new-place. The hubs made short work of those.

A carb colossus represents small somethings to look forward to. Time to fill up the calendar, and Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.

Happy spring!