It occurred to me last night while I was picking blackberries, that I can age my daughter by her role in the blackberry picking. Some people have growth charts hanging on their wall. That'd just be too easy.
The summer Anna was two, she was fearless and ferocious in her quest for the purple fruits. Briars were no match for Miss Anna. She ate most of the berries she picked and about one third of the ones I put in the bucket. She giggled and bounced like Tigger during the blackberry adventure.
When Anna was three, she was more of a pointer. "There's one, mama." Older and wiser, she left the scratches and pricks to me. She understood well what became of anyone who got too close to the limbs of the blackberry bush. Mind you, she still managed to return to the house with a purple ring around her mouth.
This year Anna is four. She picks a few berries and then talks a lot. She eats a few berries and then she talks a lot. She points out a few berries and then she talks a lot. She is four now, and, oh so good at it. She only dumped the berries on the ground twice. And, yes, she came back in the house sporting a lovely blackberry juice mustache.
Eventually, she'll figure out like her brother and sister, that you can shirk the blackberry picking and get to eat cobbler anyway. I wonder what age five will bring?
She is five now and still eats half as many as she picks. And still talks a lot.
Published in the August 2009 edition of The Other Herald (http://www.otherherald.com/)
How blessed am I that she still follows me to the fence rows to pick the blackberries?
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It's so sad to see no reviews for this, when I remember there being lots.
I love the simplistic description in this, and - overall - the concept of a child's behaviour being the more accurate growth chart. You depict Anna's trial-and-error learning really well, using a paragraph for each year, which was easy on the eye and mind.
This is an amusing and pleasant read. Thanks for [re] posting it.
This is such a sweet little tale and almost sad to watch your little girl growing up. The simple benchmarks showing far more than some simple tape could ever.
I guess the growth chart will someday have her helping you make the Cobbler, too! Then someday she will be the one in the yard with her child - thinking of how great it is to share a tradition with HER daughter or son.
What an enchanting little essay. I enjoyed it, and how it made me think of the things that I have done with my children. . . . and the greatest of writing provokes the greatest of thoughts . . . nice work.
I have yet to have any children, but I watch my nieces as they grow, and you captured their innocence so well in this piece...Children are truly amazing aren't they...You are truly blessed!
This is adorable, my daughter will be seven this year - the talking has not calmed down any for her either and she still follows me around doing all of the things that I do as does my son, who is four. I feel blessed every day.
I was sitting w/ Jack yesterday and there was this little girl w/ her mom.and they were sad cause part of the bridge on the river walk had been burned down a few weeks ago and they just moved here..and I told them how to get around by taking a few side streets so they could see the other bridges and the marsh..and I gave her some of the honeysuckle I'd picked and she was curious about the african guitar Jack was playing..and her mom's friend Ralph had one and a mandolin and collected instruments from around the world. where would we be w/out nature and the constant reminders from the curiosity of children.
I remember picking berries as a kid now..
thank you for sharing and featuring this amazing story..your voice has always had this amazing poise and grace to it. You're thoughts are so concisely expressed and lucid and I'm grateful for ways you've helped me realize a bit of refinement..
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..