Sunday, June 23, 2013

Babymoons Then and Now (er, then)

This blog entry was written quite some time ago and remained unposted until today.  It's "unfinished" and I don't really have anything to add right now.  I think I had probably intended to get back to it. Now, much much later, I only opened it to fix a typo in the title which bugged me (was surprised to see the typo and hadn't remembered writing anything with the word "babymoon" in it -- wondered if someone had bombed my blog, or whatever euphemism one might use to characterize someone ELSE trying to create and post on someone else's blog. No one else got into my blog -- it was ME. doh!). By the way, the post title originally said "Babymoons Than and Now" -- ooh, it makes me cringe.  P.S.  My daughter is not pregnant now . . .
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Our daughter, who currently resides in Switzerland, is pregnant and expecting in the next month or so. She and her husband are friends with another couple that currently live in The States whose first baby is due soon after theirs. Maggie mentioned that they'd be seeing them soon as the couple was embarking on their babymoon.


What's a babymoon? I queried. I was told it was that trip a couple takes just before the baby comes where they pretty much celebrate their last hurrah of being a twosome. Hey, we did that, too!

I didn't go into it while we were Skyping (the only way this miles-apart-while-she's-pregnant is keeping me sane as a grandmama-to-be), but later I thought about the "babymoon" Tom and I had had before the birth of our daughter so many years ago. There's a picture for us to remember it by, sort of.  The picture reminds me of the maternity swimsuit I had when we went on our trip.  Though in the picture I am standing next to the car in the driveway with my dear friend Pam. It's Florida, Pam was visiting, and we were maybe going to the beach. This was not the babymoon but it reminds me of the maternity bathing suit I had and the fact that that suit accompanied us on our babymoon.

Some time before our daughter was to be born on a late October Florida evening, we went on a short trip to Sarasota, a favorite vacation destination of mine as a child.  I don't really remember how pregnant I was -- was it before Pam's visit or after? -- but I do know I had that jewel-tone green bathing suit.

Was that the time we seemed to remain invisible to all the waitstaff?  (Looking back, I wonder if they avoided us because we looked like we wouldn't know how to tip?)  Was that the time we went to the Columbia Restaurant and I asked the waitstaff to see if they could give me the recipe for the wonderful dish I'd had. And I received a jotted note that involved measurements for very large crowds.

Now, thirty-one, thirty-two years later, with no notes or photos to go by, a whole lot of living has elapsed and though that was a vacation we took while I was pregnant, it wasn't the caliber of the vacation Maggie and her friends are taking.  Maggie and Ken went to Prague. Their friends are going on a multi-country tour.

Is that Opportunity I hear pounding on my door?

Ah, life is good. Why? Because it's early in the day and I didn't get enough sleep again? No, that's not it.  Because I had a half- to three-quarters-crappy day at work yesterday? No, that's not it either. I AM off today. Maybe THAT's it.

I'm in the midst of finishing up an editing job that was really fun to do. I say "in the midst" of finishing because I'm taking some time to try to write good final notes on the piece as a whole.  And in doing that, I found a blog that really seemed to have more than a "ring of truth."  You, too, may enjoy it (triangulations dot wordpress dot com).

In the next few weeks I have a lot to think about. Our daughter and family will be coming in mid-July for a nice long stay. So, there are those happy preparations. Someone is walking now and there is "baby-proofing" to be done. I've gone nuts with finding riding toys and board books at thrift stores.  Now for the house-cleaning and other preparations.

There is another part of my life that's looking for some attention, as well.  And I've got to see if I can get some real work done on it in the next three weeks.  That's the writing part.

My paying job, which is non-writing-related, takes a lot out of me on a daily basis. For the most part, I like the work that I do. Being a librarian is about rewarding writers by keeping them alive (well, their works). It's about making connections for readers. And it's also about trying to help good writers get out there to be read.  But being a librarian is also about helping patrons with their lost books, haggling with others over their long-standing fines, and helping folks find the restroom. And, in our library, it's a physically demanding job because we are very busy schlepping books here and there and trying to meet the demands of a reading public. Thank the gods for the reading public.


So, yes, there is also the writing part of my life. It relates to the editing part. Every time I edit someone else's work, I sharpen my abilities with my own work. The problem is, it's very hard for me to make time for my own writing when I am editing and also working my day job but I LOVE editing. So, I hope those jobs keep coming my way.

For the last few years, I have been trying to sharpen my abilities with poetry. I've read a little more and written a little more. Writing is very much about rewriting and I've done plenty of that, too. I've taken classes with a poet in Decatur, participated in workshops with yet another poet in Atlanta, gone to a couple of one-off workshops, and continue to lead a monthly writing group in the town where I work and live. I always enjoy the camaraderie and insights with each of these groups.  I wonder if these offerings and commitments weren't out there if I'd be writing more or writing less.


In three weeks, I'll be attending a one-day one-off non-fiction workshop. I will be expected to produce a 10-12 page piece by July 5th in preparation for the day of the workshop. The game is afoot. I can hear the "William Tell Overture" thrumming in a loop in the back of my brain. Can I do it? Can I pop out a dozen prose pages in the next couple of weeks?  Oh, sure I can!  Never mind that I generally have a hard time sustaining any prose piece for longer than about five pages.

I've been meaning to go dig in my personal archive files to see if I can find an old piece I did in my late-blooming college years about a 40-foot billboard I'd seen that was planted in the yard of a city dweller who lived alongside a major interstate. When I think of doing this, I can't help but be reminded of Mad Magazine's "Rewriting Your Way to a PhD." I take the time to Google it and can now tell you, Dear Reader, that it was published in April 1973, and because some kind soul and major fan of Mad Magazine has scanned a copy, I have details herewith:  it begins with Little Wilfred's 2-week trip to his Granpa's pig farm in "Cansus" and ends with Wilfred's PhD dissertation, "A Qualitative Analysis of Swine Vision as it Pertains to Human Behavioral Response in Osborne County, Kansas". The piece was written by Tom Koch (pronounced "Cook" according to Wikipedia -- hey! he wrote for Bob and Ray -- if you don't know who they were, you're young -- Google them).  Thank the gods for the Internet, eh?  And here I do the writerly librarian thing and give credit where it is due. I was able to find the article in full at Doug Gilford's Mad Cover Site. He has the following statement on his site:


Mad Magazine and EC Publications' legal department have not granted permission to Doug Gilford, but they're tolerating me these days...

So, yes, about the writing . . . today is the day that I dig. I hope I don't get terribly distracted in the hunt.  Because if I can find it quickly and efficiently, I can decide whether it's worth a re-write or not and can then move my brain on to something else if that's not to be the non-fiction piece I submit.

Beyond the threat of non-fiction, I am also considering signing up for another round with poet Alexa Selph at the Emory (at night) classes.  She is doing her first class on narrative poetry, which is the kind of poetry I seem to be doing these days. (That is, when I'm doing anything at all, writing-wise.) Problem: of only six weeks of classes, I may have to miss two or three because they overlap the time when my daughter and family will be here. My husband is lobbying against. I'm resisting resisting and want to be able to say yes to the class. Why does life have to be so complicated? Don't answer that. I'm well aware of the fact that I mostly complicate my own life. Family and others have been telling me so for years.