Skip to main content

In Stitches: A Yule Tapestry





The trip out had been put on hold, while the storm was belting.
The sky was getting darker.

It seems that nothing much will get done.

Granma is in the kitchen, filling up the kettle. Grandad is looking for his phone/glasses/keys/other item: he’s on a rolling programme of searching.
All four grandchildren gather in the next room, out of sight, well in sound.

Grandchild 3 says, with musical clarity, ‘You get on the naughty step RIGHT NOW!’
Grandchild 1 says, with a sense of subterfuge, ’You see, that’s why I don’t like her!’
Grandchild 4 (most likely recipient of the command) simply growls.
Grandchild 2 says ‘What the?!’ (She implies an expletive with a comic shrug.)
Grandchild 3 appears in the kitchen, dressed in the snuggle blanket. It trails behind her, majestic and soft.
‘I’m Elsa,’ she informs. ‘Let the storm rage oooonnnnn!’
Grandchild 4 appears, drawn to stand on the trail of the blanket.
‘Lie down,’ Granma instructs, picturing a head injury.
This is how the dragging game begins.
From the broad space in front of the fireplace, where letter blocks spell CARIAD, past the Christmas tree, where an elf has shinned up to the top star, all the way to the kitchen bin! One by one, then two by two, then a bump or two, and the game is halted by Grandad, picturing lots of head injuries.
It was fun though, with nothing else planned, to grab a blanket corner and be caught in the flow of what is.

It’s late.

Grandad the Hero gets 1-3 grandchildren tucked into bed.
Grandma has cooked bolognaise and walked dogs.
Grandchild 4, last kid standing, asks for a story, one of Granma’s stories.
He sits up in bed, so as not to be fooled into sleep.
It doesn’t work. She tips his head gently onto the pillow.
Four guileless angels, lightly snoring; bright threads going somewhere.






Comments

Geo. said…
Oh my gosh, this is beautifully written! I am a grampa and know this choreography well. The top photo of dog says it all with canine eyes, "What the..." and stops because dogs contain no expletives. Thanks for my favorite Yuletide post!
Lisa Southard said…
Thank you xx Happy Holidays Geo, to you and your own lovely family :-) xx
Jo said…
Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Lisa Southard said…
Belated return of greetings Jo- I have been writing books and neglected this poor blog entirely!
Teresa Cypher said…
Hi Lily. Oh my, even with its challenges, your life is beautiful and full. How have you been?
Lisa Southard said…
Hi Teresa! I've been busy writing and job hunting, the former has been going well :-/ But yes, an engaging life! Hope you are keeping well xx

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...

A Glitch Or Two

My Chromebook has been crumbling. It seems a little like dementia, this inability to upgrade its powers of communication, it makes me sad, even for an object. It's one of the reasons my posts here have been put aside, that and generally being tumbled by tiredness. I have saved up money for a replacement, also I have spent that money on trees and shrubs. I have two novels to sort out however, and this will be the reason I save up again. I don't stop writing, even if I don't tell anyone. In the meantime should you need a calm place to go, I have begun a substack account. Please do drop by. If the kettle crumbles we can make tea (or soup) on the firepit. Me on substack:  Lisa Southard