Strawberry Story: Wild Strawberries

Wild Strawberry viewed on MamaKopp Etsy account.

Wild Strawberries
By Shel Silverstein

Are Wild Strawberries really wild?
Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child?
Should you pet them, or let them run free where they roam?
Could they ever relax in a steam-heated home?
Can they be trained to not growl at the guests?
Will a litterbox work or would they leave a mess?
Can we make them a Cowberry, herding the cows,
Or maybe a Muleberry pulling the plows,
Or maybe a Huntberry chasing the grouse,
Or maybe a Watchberry guarding the house,
And though they may curl up at your feet oh so sweetly,
Can you ever feel that you trust them completely?
Or should we make a pet out of something less scary,
Like the Domestic Prune or the Imported Cherry,
Anyhow, you’ve been warned and I will not be blamed
If your Wild Strawberry cannot be tamed.

Wild Women: Glamor Girls

What is it about an eye patch that makes a woman mysterious, sultry, even sexy?  No doubt an eye patch means something different on a woman than it does a man.

Check out these glamor girls:

Heidi

Rihanna

Bette Davis

Madonna

Then again...

Ugly Betty

Strawberry Story: Pirate Story

Pirate Story

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing.

Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea.

Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,

And waves are on the meadow

like the waves there are at sea.

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,

Wary of the weather and steering by a star?

Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,

To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar?

Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea-

Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!

Quickly, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,

The wicket is the harbor and the garden is the shore.

Illustrated by Myrtle Sheldon

Oh my God...the first ever pirate story that actually resonated with memories of my mother!  From Loie's copy of A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Chapter 4: The heart of the matter

Collage from the Eye Patch Quilt.

The question mom poses throughout Chapter 4 to advocate for those with facial difference is: what's it like having a one-eyed mom?  What do people without facial differences not understand about how differences on the outside translate when behind closed doors?  Read on in her words:

Having been an only child myself, I was happy that Andy and Sarah would now have each other as they experienced the uniqueness that was ours.  I often would run around the house in the early mornings or late evenings without the patch on because the elastic caused pressure on my head.  I can generally wear them 3 to 4 times before the sewing the elastic tighter again so that they don't fall down on my nose.  The warmth of my head and hair oils must do the loosening over spans of hours.  Seldom does one fit just right without being too tight or too loose.  There is very little tolerance there for exact fit.

I have learned that it is not unusual for a physically challenged person to take off a prosthesis or health-aid when they are safely at home.  It creates a dichotomy of what is appropriate for the outside world and what is only okay when no neighbors or friends are over.  The kids got to see me running for the upstairs closet that housed the patches when an early doorbell range or a dog had to be walked in a hurry.  They didn't find my appearance scary, but I knew their friends who might be spending the night would, so I had a double set of dress codes for myself.

Being a teacher, counselor, therapist type, I sometimes would ask them if it bothered them when everyone stared at us as I came to one of their school concerts, friends' birthday parties, or athletic events.  Usually they said "No," but did acknowledge that their school mates kept asking them what was wrong with their Mom and why she wore that funny thing.  I think it really helped to be open and give everyone an opportunity to talk about it.

Is this family photo from the 70s or what?

Don't worry- she tasked me with writing my own chapter on this years ago...

Strawberry Story: Goals for Me

Look familiar?  This poster has been, and is, a staple of therapists doors since the seventies.  Some people grew up with Peter Rabbit, Winnie the Pooh, or Holly Hobbie on their walls.  I got Virginia Satir.  It worked though, this poster formed the foundation of my relationships during formative years and is still my litmus test for friendship today.

Goals for Me

I want to love you without clutching,
appreciate you without judging, join you without invading,
invite you without demanding, leave you without guilt,
criticize you without blaming, and help you without insulting.
If I can have the same from you,
then we can truly meet and enrich each other.

-Virginia Satir

Chapter 4: Solstice Baby

My brother Andy and bewildered me.  Still sport those looks.

Moral of this next story- never take a bet against my mom.  In her own words:

Sarah was born three years later, and again an incredible bonding and world vision resulted the night afterward.  I wanted to be able to live in that state of being forever.  She also was induced 3 weeks after my due date.  I wanted her born on June 21, the summer solstice, but the obstetrician induced her the morning of the 20th to better fit his schedule; he said he was sure she would arrive that day.  She was born at five minutes past midnight on the 21st.  After announcing she was a healthy beautiful little girl, he laughed and said, "You'd do anything to win a bet!"

Mementofacts from my baby book:

Announcement in the base newsletter.

Standard military congratulations letter from Sen. George McGovern*.

*In an odd turn of events, George McGovern now lives in my town!  He was walking behind me just the other day.  I thought to stop and turn and thank him for his letter but decided to wait for the next time.

Chapter 4: Ear...eye...nose...patch!

Proud parents with their "babies" in their laps.

In mom's own words:

Over the next few months I saw myself assuming my own mother's role of protector.  The military well-baby checks left much to be desired in those days as you sat with your child a minimum of an hour in a waiting room crowded with many other infant/mother combinations trying to cope as we were, and a few sick kids in the waiting room mixed in.  I flashed back to what it must have been like for my Mom through those gruesome medical days with me.  What strength it took to be the defender.

I began the usual little identification games with Andy as an infant and toddler.  Soon he could sit on my lap, say and point to my "ear...eye...nose...mouth...chin...patch!"  His childhood experience would clearly have some unusual dimensions to it.

Strawberry Story: Balancers

In looking for fresh fodder for Strawberry Fridays I thought, well, why not drink the strawberry this week?  Afterall, isn't that the point of the punchline, "Best I ever tasted," to taste?  This recipe comes from the "Balancers: Smoothies for Women" section of Smoothies for Life!

Enjoy!

Strawberry Shake

1 cup skim milk
1 cup frozen strawberries
1 banana
2 tablespoons soy protein
1 teaspoon flaxseed oil
1 teaspoon brewer's yeast

From: Smoothies for Life! Daniella Chace and Maureen B. Keane 1998 p.261

Chapter 4: Two Beautiful Children

In mom's own words:

Like the words of the song recorded by Whitney Houston, I do believe the children are our future.  My mother had many miscarriages before and after me, and she instilled the message in me that babies are golden, the pearl of great price, and that you protect them with your life at all cost.  My parents had tried to adopt a child as well, but were told it was not possible whiles they had such a sick little girl with medical procedures and expenses looming head.

During my post surgical treatment as a 6 year old, the radiation field came very close to my pituitary gland.  The doctors over the years said that I might not be able to have children; so after 3 years of marriage my husband and I began the process of adoption.  To our delight and amazement, I found myself pregnant before the final paperwork was completed.

All the husbands in our Air Force wind came home from a 6 month tour flying over Viet-Nam on my due date in March of 1970.  The aircraft commander's wife had an ambulance standing by in the hanger as all the KC-135's and B-52's came in.  I guess she thought I might get so excited that I would plunk the kid right down there on the tarmac.  Reunions on a grant scale are very exciting, but son Andy waited to make his appearance in the world three weeks later.  The labor was induced, and the doctors speculated that the delay might be due to the radiation in 1949.

I looked over at Andy lying in the isolette next to me.  We looked in each other's eyes and it was love at first site.  There was a sense of lineage, of the life force passing through me as this beautiful little boy, who was flesh of my flesh, came into the world; it was the most incredible experience I had ever had.  I stayed awake all night envisioning our future.  In later years I would come to call it my first truly vibrant experience of the inner-self.  I spent that night in an altered state of being, seeing life's existence and its meaning through benevolent, purposeful, and compassionate eye(s).  I recognized that my life would never again be the same.