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mute_claychallenge response
I don’t know. Maybe –
I can still remember the first carving I ever did. I can’t have been more than a handful of years, seven at the most, and I had worked at it for days. It was not the first thing I had ever carved, mind, just the first proper one.
It was a mouse. A tiny little mouse. Fit in the palm of my hand as if it belonged there. I would go sit in the spot I liked, away from the house but close enough that I could hear it if Ma called for me to come home. I’d hurry up, gathering kindling, so I’d have time. Time that wasn’t for work or sleep or prayer. Time that was for me.
And I made a mouse.
I knew I couldn’t take it with me. The good book says you shouldn’t make things that look like things and Ma was very strict with that. Besides, it was just a wooden mouse. It wasn’t useful. It couldn’t do anything. Not even feed the barn cat.
I put it down next to the log I’d been sitting on and told it to be a good mouse. Even if it wasn’t a proper mouse. It couldn’t squeak for one.
When I got back there, a while later, it was gone. Maybe the Forest took it. I don’t know. For a while I thought that maybe – it’d become alive and run off, like a real mouse would. Squeaking. But that don’t happen. Not when it couldn’t to begin with.
I was proud of the house too. The things I didn’t know how to do I figured out and when it was storming outside and you sat indoors you knew it was a good house.
I was proud whenever I made Callie smile. Especially the first time. She was so pretty. And I felt proud every time I looked at her. Because she lived with me. And I could make her smile.
But see – there’s the catch. There’s always one in these questions. Maybe they think I don’t catch on to them, because I never went to school. But I do.
They say it has to be one moment. And that isn’t right with these, cause there isn’t one moment when a carving just is. You make it and all the while you work with the wood is part of that carving in the end.
And the storm isn’t any particular storm. It’s more the idea of one. Like when you remember bad winters and they’re all bad winters you’ve ever seen and then some. In your head.
And even if I say I remember the first time I made Callie smile – you can’t just go and make years with someone into a moment.
So I think I have to say that I don’t know.
I don’t know. Maybe –
I can still remember the first carving I ever did. I can’t have been more than a handful of years, seven at the most, and I had worked at it for days. It was not the first thing I had ever carved, mind, just the first proper one.
It was a mouse. A tiny little mouse. Fit in the palm of my hand as if it belonged there. I would go sit in the spot I liked, away from the house but close enough that I could hear it if Ma called for me to come home. I’d hurry up, gathering kindling, so I’d have time. Time that wasn’t for work or sleep or prayer. Time that was for me.
And I made a mouse.
I knew I couldn’t take it with me. The good book says you shouldn’t make things that look like things and Ma was very strict with that. Besides, it was just a wooden mouse. It wasn’t useful. It couldn’t do anything. Not even feed the barn cat.
I put it down next to the log I’d been sitting on and told it to be a good mouse. Even if it wasn’t a proper mouse. It couldn’t squeak for one.
When I got back there, a while later, it was gone. Maybe the Forest took it. I don’t know. For a while I thought that maybe – it’d become alive and run off, like a real mouse would. Squeaking. But that don’t happen. Not when it couldn’t to begin with.
I was proud of the house too. The things I didn’t know how to do I figured out and when it was storming outside and you sat indoors you knew it was a good house.
I was proud whenever I made Callie smile. Especially the first time. She was so pretty. And I felt proud every time I looked at her. Because she lived with me. And I could make her smile.
But see – there’s the catch. There’s always one in these questions. Maybe they think I don’t catch on to them, because I never went to school. But I do.
They say it has to be one moment. And that isn’t right with these, cause there isn’t one moment when a carving just is. You make it and all the while you work with the wood is part of that carving in the end.
And the storm isn’t any particular storm. It’s more the idea of one. Like when you remember bad winters and they’re all bad winters you’ve ever seen and then some. In your head.
And even if I say I remember the first time I made Callie smile – you can’t just go and make years with someone into a moment.
So I think I have to say that I don’t know.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 09:22 pm (UTC)I used to run. In the Forest. That helped.
*smiles at her* You don't have Spring and Summer where you lived before? This is nothing. If we were in the Forest everything would be warm and green and fragrant now.
ooc - Clay's been quiet too, but he could relate to this one. And he is happy to see Caragh again *huggles you and the pup back*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 09:31 pm (UTC)Being alone can be good. If you can't live with yourself, life is going to be pretty rough, si? Seeing as that's the one person you spend the most time with. *grins*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 05:37 am (UTC)The parks here? They're nothing. Nice and green, but planted and with straight lines everywhere. The Forest - the Forest is wild. I should take you to one. Now that it's Summer.
*smiles at her*
And I agree. I was used to be alone a lot. Sometimes it can be hard, having to be around people all the time. Are you still working in the same place?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 05:57 am (UTC)Or, well, I could, I mean, alone would be nice too, but if you wanted, I'd like to have you.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 06:30 am (UTC)*seems very cheered*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 06:46 pm (UTC)ooc: aww. *pets them both* I can start a thread whenever, if you like -- no hurry; I generally take tagging fairly slowly, and I know Clay is a popular pup. Pupular? *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 07:40 pm (UTC)*smiles as she laughs*
Ma only read from the good book. And only the first part. It used to give me bad dreams. *looks a little hesitant*
If you want, maybe you can bring a book? One you like? I'd like to hear you read something.
ooc: Feel free - he's all happy now *pets pup and cracks up at your joke* I'm starting a new job tomorrow and I must be firm with myself since I'll have to work from home a lot. So I may be slow.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 08:06 pm (UTC)*grins happily* I'll bring some. Maybe poems. I like Neruda, he's wonderful. I found some of the books I liked when I was little. They're still nice, they make me happy. Especially the Milne. I mean -- si. I'll find something. I'm just -- *bounces, with a little squeal, and hugs him* I can't wait!
ooc: Eeek! Working from home and not tagging? Exercise in discipline, that. *nods* No worries about speed by any means; I'm a very slow tagger so I'm in no place at all to throw stones. *grins* Slow is much less stressful, anyway.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 08:36 pm (UTC)(ooc: esp. because it is work on the computer most of the time - but I don't smoke so I take tagging-breaks and mail-breaks instead *g*. And slow - slow is gooood ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-31 11:29 pm (UTC)*nods* That would be useful, I bet. God knows I don't know anything about forests. *grins easily* How long? A week? Just so I know how much time to take off from work.
ooc: slow is VERY good. *nods firmly* :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-01 08:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-03 06:44 am (UTC)ooc: ack! so sorry, I swear I'd tagged this. *headdesk* shall start a thread, and we can set it whenever. she's far too excited about this, and nervous. *pets the pups*
ooc
Date: 2005-06-03 08:34 pm (UTC)Re: ooc
Date: 2005-06-03 09:08 pm (UTC)