INSPIRATION ~~~~ phantom post from GP - 12/09/2009

Today I just put a chalkboard up above the kitchen table…I want to do some type of shelf across it for dishes and teacups…we’ll see if it works.

Later on I found chalk for 1.00 at Michaels in their clearance bin…maybe I just hadn’t been looking for it before, but I felt very fortunate indeed.

I also heard today that Jewel has 20 chalkcloths to make in a week…(wow, you are busy).

Then tonight, I watched the show “one week” and the last scene is of a classroom with the words “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield” written on the chalkboard above an empty chair.

I have to admit, my head is spinning with chalk thoughts…I’ll just “chalk” it up to the fact that I am a little stuck on the shelf design…

Nevertheless, the last scene of the movie reminded me of yet another chalky moment…all the way back to my university days….

So fortunate for you (since my family is sleeping and I cannot)…tonight is another [read in sing-songy voice]: “Journal Sharing Time” post.

[I used to enjoy writing and receiving letters…it is always such a thrill to get a real letter...But it would always bother me when I went back to read some of my letters that I had received that the details on my responses were all too often more than a little foggy…So, to eliminate this future frustration for myself, I would write out my responses to letters received in my journal (tape the letter I received onto the same page) and then recopy my journaled letter entry on stationary and send the letter on it’s happy way. This way I was able to cross reference the two letters at a future date.]

Anyway, this was the response I wrote to a friend who had just moved away from Calgary….

Jan 1, 05
It was such a delight to get your letter in the mail. I have to confess however that getting a letter in the mail is a million-and-one times more easier than sending a letter. I, as well, have made several attempts to send you a reply to your letter. I guess it’s been a while –I’m a pretty rusty pen pal, but it is good to get back in the practice of this dying art.

Well, here I am –sitting at my new writing table that I got for Christmas (this letter is the first to be penned from this desk). –the eclectic sounds of Milk and Honey III, are playing softly in the background and the refreshing scent of peppermint tea fills the air from the cup in front of me…Now I am finally ready to write you a letter!

First of all, I hope that all is well with you. By now you are probably beginning to become quite settled in to your new life in Edmonton. I hope that school is going well—you are going to do a fabulous job. I hope that you are enjoying your new home…I smiled when you talked about exploring your neighbourhood. That was always one of my “simple pleasures” in Edmonton. The river valley was so close, and an immediate remedy to the stresses of city and school life (just don’t go there at night!!).

I remember one house in my neighbourhood that was always such a mystery! The windows were always covered completely by dark, heavy drapery…I never saw any signs of the inhabitants of the house (I often even wondered if people actually lived there), but every day someone would write a message in sidewalk chalk on the steps. I made it a part of my daily routine to take a walk to the house just to read the steps. Some days the messages were profound, some days simple or even silly –other times political, and on occasion, written in some foreign tongue (usually Latin).

One day, after years of visiting this house to read the writing on the stairs, I finally caught this mysterious stair-writer in the act…He is a man in his mid-fifties (I think he lives alone) – very eccentric, large skin tag on face, wears a toque in the fall – nice yet quite opinionated and talkative, has a cat…is all I gathered from our short exchange on the street. It is strange, but for some reason, after meeting and speaking with him, the charm of the steps began to fade ---Don’t get me wrong, I am certain it had nothing to do with his person (his eccentricity could easily equate to charm)….he was also a nice enough man…but for some reason, I began visiting the steps every-other-day, then sometimes once a week---and eventually, I stopped going out of my way to read the stairs all together. As though the messages no longer mattered… I guess some things in life are better left a mystery…I think that was what was actually so charming and appealing about the stairs…the mystery of it all…..who, why, when, kind of stuff…solve even just one piece of the puzzle and the intrigue crumbles….

Letter continues….

Anyways, I think I am finally tired now. Good night.
If you have any ideas for my chalkboard/shelf unit, send them my way.