A Minute to Myself (183)
Talking to a Daughter, or Two

Love Letters and Children’s Stories

This morning, in the throes of throwing out and packing up, I found a packet of love letters to and from exman. I had them in the car from when I found them at my parent’s house. At that time, just a few months ago, I figured that at some point I would want to read them, or that they were an important archaeological part of my past that had to be preserved. But today when I saw them I opened one card that I had sent to him and just seeing that I wrote the word “kisses” to him turned my stomach. Without further ado, I dumped the whole packet in the dumpster. There is nothing to see there, there is nothing to recount or relive. Garbage, it’s all garbage. Harsh? Perhaps. But why excavate to the good when the bad has poisoned it all. Why think back when I need to look ahead.

In that same bag, though, I did find two children’s stories that I wrote in 1992, when my eighteen-year old was one. Of course, they were rejected by publishers, but, of course, I think they were wrong. At the time of writing, I thought that it was a fun, educational book teaching the very young about sounds and the fun of words. Enjoy one part of my past that I am pleased with.

Down Went the Spoon, by Laura G.

Down went the spoon
with a great, big boom!
the pancake batter.

Down went the cup
(certainly not up)
and out spilled the water
to make a new brook.

Down went my cookie
all ready to munch
well, it broke into pieces
and now is a bunch.

Down went the soap
right into the sink
where it started to slide
so my eyes I did shut
to suppose a round rink.

Down went the coins
I saved for a week
why, they started to scatter
and play hide and seek!

Down went the feather
I found on a bench,
it floated so slowly
I thought I’d have lunch.

Down went the ball
which bounced up and down
then rolled out the hall
and rolled down the steps
and rolled till it stopped
by my Daddy so tall.

Down went the cat
that twisted and squirmed
till it landed flat
on its four furry feet.

Down went the puzzle
so hard to do,
then CRASH! And CLASH!
was a hundred and one
pieces again.

Down went the brush
just dipped in red paint
and spotted poor Spot
who all of a sudden
was just one red spot.

Down went the clay
that I shaped like a jay
and THUMP!
resembled a bump.

Down went the phone
with such a jingle and jangle
that my friend cried out
“Why! My ear’s a’ tingle!”

Down went the plate
which I wanted to wash
but instead it went
and shattered to shards.

Down I went
from my bicycle seat
but as soon as I landed
like a jack-in-the-box.


Laura of Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman

Jessica, I guess by saving the letters you'll always be able to find tinder for a fire.

Pseudo, I don't heart publishers and agents. Yes, sure, send send send, you only need one acceptance letter. But you also need thick skin to do that and a belief that there really is someone out there in a position of power who will appreciate you. Blogging, no rejection letters here!

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