Laundry Line Divine

Today my walk out in the very brisk New York City weather brought me to this spiral. At first, I was caught by the shadow it created on the sidewalk, then I knelt down to be face to face with it.

I post this here for my friend Kathy Drue.
She will like it, I am sure.

Do you know what your friend would like on a cold day and she is oh so far away?

Here is love to you Kathy.
And to all friends in need of stopping on a cold and wintry street to wonder for a moment.
Yours,
S

I have sold a few things door to door in my lifetime. Girl Scout cookies won me a few awards and once drove my mother to near distraction when the 300 boxes I sold one fall arrived and I had lost the order form. I had a good memory of my customers, which allayed any fear that we would end up having to eat Thin Mints for the winter.

I also sold potholders, the cotton loopy kind, made on a metal frame that kills your fingertips but turns out sturdy blocks of colorful protection for your favorite cook. I made a bunch of them in 1966 because I had to. There was a book I wanted more than anything and so, I peddled my wares across the alleyway on Wolcott Avenue to the other apartment dwellers in Chicago and earned enough to buy my own ‘Red Letter Edition’ of the Bible, the St. James version. Having that, I could tell what exactly Jesus said because all those words were in red. Nice and clear.

I was a student at Bethesda Lutheran School, a small parochial school connected to a Lutheran church. I was born in to a very Lutheran family. Very, because my maternal Grandfather was a Lutheran minister in DeKalb, Illinois and my father had converted to Lutheranism when he married my Mom. My childhood was full of violets and lilies at Easter, hymns sung in German or English, riding in the back of my Grandfathers’ car with my Grandma sitting in front of me with her fox stole peering at me over her shoulder on the way to church.

Attending a small school on a quiet street was a sweet spot for a kid in Chicago. I was only there through fourth grade, so I did not form lasting relationships with any of my friends. Twenty five years ago, my sister Becky and I wandered over to Bethesda to find there had been a reunion of the grade schoolers, but we Banks girls could not be found to invite. I let that period of my life float off in to the coastal waters of memory, far from the active part of my life, which is full of people and activity.

Until last night. I was browsing Face book, being the social networking author that I am, commenting on friends’ posts and reading things. I like Face book. I use it for personal and professional purposes. I have met many really wonderful people there. Four years ago when Diana Finch, a literary agent, instructed me to ‘build my author platform’, I scowled at the idea of making a Face book page for Laundry Line Divine. Now, I quite enjoy sharing interesting articles there, hearing from my followers and dropping photos by like little love notes to the people I interact with there. I can surely see how one could get lost in the ether of Face book. But, for me, I pick and choose or, as in the case of last night, get picked and chosen.

There was a personal message from a Geri Miller. Now, I know all my Face book friends, but this name did not at first ring a bell. I did once, know a Geri Miller, but she had faded from my life like my other Bethesda Lutherans with her startling blue eyes and crazy hair.

But, in fact, it was this very Geri Miller, who had moved away from Bethesda the same year I did, 1968. Neither of us can explain exactly why this move happened in our families. My parents had an apartment close to Loyola University and that Christmas a rock was tossed through our living room window, purely by chance I believe, because we were not at all associated with any University students. I did sell a good deal of Girl Scout cookies from my red wagon at the campus center, now that I think of it, but I am sure no Thin Mint eater would toss a rock through a window.

No, this was my own Geri Miller. And she found me on Face book on Sunday night, but the story is way cooler than that.
Last summer, Geri was in Marquette, Michigan at a memorial gathering for a dear friend of hers who had died 2 years ago. Geri was sitting around a fire on the shores of Lake Superior with friends talking about the interesting people to emerge from the Upper Peninsula.

Her friends run an online business called www.MiUpperhand.com. While talking over wine and warmth, the group turned to talking about Lake Superior Spirit, who, you close readers will recognize as my dear Kathy Drue’s site.

Now, the Universe has been reminding me of how plentiful my life is. I have been lately very inspired by my work and the projects I am developing for Laundry Line Divine. The momentum I feel today is borne of hours and days of doodling, talking, meditating and living my stand as a woman of value. I am so very grateful for all the ways the Universe supports my family and me. My husband could write his own chapter on this topic, but that is his story, not mine. This gift, of all these paths crossing there by the waters of Gitchegumee, came unexpectedly.

So, there on the shores of Lake Superior, my friend from 4th grade, Geri, surrounded by her friends honoring Dr. Louise Bourgault clicks on to the web to Lake Superior Spiritand she sees my guest post. Geri is not sure she knows me then, she wonders if this could be the Suzi she knew from Chicago all those years ago. Days bring her back home in Minocqua, Wisconsin, where Geri’s Mom shows her our grade school photos and sure enough, Geri knows it is me.

So, for whatever reason, she writes to me this past Sunday. As we unravel the paths our families took and our own journeys as young women out in to the world, fueled by the Holy Ghost and assorted other things, we discovered that my own Dr. James Rapport, my theatre professor and life long friend, recruited this close college friend of Geri’s, the recently deceased Dr. Bourgault, to NMU. Daddy Bear, who himself passed away this past August, in Marquette. We discover that Geri had become friends with Dr. Rapport and his amazing wife Karlyn Rapport. We discover that though we had parted at the end of fourth grade at Bethesda Lutheran, we remained somehow tethered.

Geri went through high school with my second cousin.

This all may not seem so far fetched to you readers.
But, these people, Geri and my second cousin Sally, who I knew briefly through my Grandmother, and who I have not seen nor heard of in 40 or so years, we have not known each other as adults.

So, it seems that one of my life passions, connecting, happens without my own conscious intention. Through my development of my manifesto, of which that post on Lake Superior Spirit is an important element- because you must know where you are from in order to move forward with any viable and sparkling motion- that post last July found it’s way to my dear Geri, who, by virtue of Face book, found me.

Here she is.

Then, after we peed ourselves silly with the fact that she knows Daddy Bear, and went to school with my second cousin, I mention that I have long pined away for Linda Schmidt, with whom I formed a rock band in her basement with Laura Tucker. We sang a song I wrote called “Hey Mr. Mailman, Got a Letter from my Love?” Did I mention my life long love of all things postal? Geri connects me to Linda.

Now, Linda, Geri and I have been heating up the waves on Face book, laughing about the boys Geri punched out on the playground and how I used to upchuck fairly frequently and how Linda was terrified of our favorite teacher, who had a terrible accident with the new chin-up bar in our gym that year in fourth grade and my Mom had to be our substitute teacher. I still remember holding Mrs. Finzer’s purse for her in the bathroom as she wretched in pain. I loved her. She wore the coolest clothes and pointy sunglasses and I just loved her. I don’t know why.

I guess I love her now because she is part of what has kept me connected to Geri, who connected with my second cousin in Northern Wisconsin and then with my mentor, Daddy Bear, who connected with Marquette and then with Lake Superior Spirit and then, finally with me. As my Mom would say, ‘will wonders never cease?’

I think Geri looks exactly like the title character named Twig, from Elizabeth Orton Jones’ book. My kids loved this book and I always had a sense of familiarity with Twig as I read that story to them over and over again. The illustrations are just like the back alleys of Chicago where we spent our early childhoods, playing ‘Seven-Up’ and tag.

You just never know. Someone shows up, carrying the wonder of her own life and the people and places she has loved and they are so similar if not the same as mine.

I do bark at my son to get off of Face book. I will not sell much door to door anymore.
And, I will sew these memories around my heart because there is nothing casual about the way the Universe works. I am grateful for Geri penetrating the ether to find me. I am thrilled to see Linda’s smile again. I am impressed by how fast the three of us can stir up a little trouble posting about the kids we once knew, and may in fact, know again.

I hope this week of family and holiday, or no family and no holiday, but still a week in which gratitude can play a part, I hope this week is good for you. I hope you recognize the value of reaching out to someone you feel pulled towards. You can never imagine your good fortune at peering in to the face of someone as scalliwaggishly brilliant as Geri and getting to know her again. What a joy.

All my love to you my readers of Laundry Line Divine.
I am so thankful that you stop your day and read me here.
This story could so easily be yours.
There are people who’s lives you change ever single day, just by smiling like Linda does, all sparkly and wonderful.
Thank you for reading me.
Thank you for loving your life.
Happy Thanksgiving,
S

Mary’s line of poetry is the title of my manifesto. That is as far as I have gotten.

If you asked me today, what I am all about, I’d have to pause, take a deep breath and ask you to listen to a few stories about where I am from and who I have become in my 53 years on the planet. Reading this linked post at Lake Superior Spirit will tell you a lot about where I am from.http://upwoods.wordpress.com/2011/07/22/a-person-who-is-heading-north-is-not-making-any-mistake-in-my-opinion-stuart-little/

What I am about on this chilly day in the Berkshires where winter has slammed in early and taken down trees and shrubs and how about all the birds, is I am an artist, blogger, author and full time Mom. Heavy on the Mom part today as Ben is home sick with something he is sharing with a few friends, who are also home sick. So, I am a woman, often interrupted, digging deeper with my paddle to stay on course on this my full work day in my studio while my husband covers the kids and driving and dinner and phone calls.

I am sitting here with the space heater going and fingerless gloves on writing.
Thinking.
Knitting.
Getting ready to make my collaborator a post card.

Maybe you could say I am a juggler?
No, I know a juggler, my Roger the Jester. He juggles. I do something else.

Maybe you could say I am a connector?
Like the train lines that connect one route to another- hey, like the S train that runs from Grand Central to Times Square in NYC.

I am like that, country mouse and city mouse.
I live in both worlds, occupying one more than the other at present, with this rural small town life filling my days with people I love and the busy lives of my teenagers.

My whole life I have thrilled by connecting with others.
I have written about this here before, but to this very moment, I delight in getting to know what others do and how or who I might connect with them to expand our togetherness. Professionally this means that when someone recommends me meeting someone, I sit right down to make that happen. Tomorrow I get to have lunch with a writer who is new to the Berkshires. A mutual friend connected Alison Larkin and me. Both of us are mothers and writers, we have much to share.

This summer, in June at the International Women’s Writing Guild conference, I met and fell in awe and delight with Jan Phillips. The honor of knowing her as a colleague is such a thrill to me. Jan said this:

“Recall your soul’s mission and do that better and better every day. When you experience joy, you know you are there.”

Connecting brings me great joy.
It requires listening.
It requires knowing who I am in order to stand in my value as a potential collaborator with the Divine, every single day.
This mission brings me unending joy and the best, long to-do list.

On this day, as I honor the birthday of my friend Jill Rogers of The Seven Sacred Steps, I celebrate being a connector.
If you’d like to connect more, in your daily life, take a moment and notice what you yearn for, then say yes the next person who offers it to you. If no one is offering what you want, go find someone to give that very thing to. Okay, an example? I yearn to do yoga with a group of seasoned yoga people for whom the practice can be quiet and deep. I have not found that group yet, but I have begun sharing a short practice with the women I do a cardio workout with twice a week.

Here is a photo of me connecting. The 2 women pictured with me had just met that day. The woman in the center is my dear Betty Burkes, one of my longest time friends and my sister from another mother. Next to her is our new friend, Marj Hahne, who I met at the IWWG conference in June. The 3 of us were on Cape Cod at the same time. Our conversation flowed. I knew we are each women who enjoy knowing each other and what we are about. We scurried over the obstacle of newness briskly.

I hope this post finds you wondering about making one connection for yourself today.
What do you yearn for?
Would you dare ask it of someone?

Like Mary Oliver and her ‘acts of adoration’, I honor this day and all that brought me to this moment with you.
Thank you for your time,
Love,
S

This post is dedicated to my treasured readers, Mary McGinn, Kathy Drue and Tammy McLeod. Otherwise known as Kitty Cavalier, Lake Superior Spirit and AgriGirl, busy blogging women with busy bodacious lives.
Your comments and support make me very very happy.

There are so many of you who sometimes comment or not at all, I know you have your reasons, and these I respect.
You must know that I am honored that you stop here at all to rest your thoughts and sup inspiration.
At least, that is what I hope you do.

From the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, where I am arting about with my German family and my own brood, looking forward to tossing a skillet at the Orleans County Fair this week. I will keep you posted on what happens, just after the harness racing in the infield.
I am hoping to come home with another blue ribbon.

Tons of rainy love with magnificent sunsets,
S