Léna is also a Regional Manager for Writopia Lab whose mission is to foster joy, literacy, and critical thinking in kids and teens from all backgrounds through creative writing.
"Well, the question is, what do you want to believe? Do you want to live in a world where things are possible, or in one where they aren't?" Cin, Edges.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Driving With The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest
I will do my best to tie in The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest into my Lit.Life post tonight, but I think I shall fail spectacularly. (I am no Lisbeth Salander.) Having just moved from the "city" to the "country", I am both over and underwhelmed. OVER the chaos of boxes, paint, dust and demolition, UNDER the not-having-a-routine, the need-to-make-friends, etcetera. But therein lies the great adventure, hmmm?
Two mind bogglers pour moi today (besides Lisbeth Salander):
1) I walked my skippy daughter half a mile to camp, enjoying time with her listening to all of the different bird sounds, wondering at the different trees and flowers along the road, and excited at the prospect of meeting some other parents, building community, yes? Culture shock: ALL of the parents stayed in their cars and the counselors were in charge of getting their loved ones out of their car seats and escorting them to the gym! I think that's so awesome of the camp to do that for parents, but I couldn't help feeling disappointed as I walked back home, strangely bereft to be on the outside, with so many people on the inside . . . even though they were alone in their cars.
2) I DROVE a car. (The metaphors here are ENDLESS. I won't bore you with them, but this is where maybe I can tie in Lisbeth? I DID have the book next to me . . .)
"But you don't drive!" Many people said to me upon hearing that I was leaving the dirty streets for greener pastures.
"I'll just have to learn to say I DO," was my response. The husband is the seasoned driver in the family, hailing from North Dakota. I grew up in NYC, and only learned how to drive in Moab, Utah (yes, the setting for EDGES!) when I was 28 years old. But I was only there for a year, and then lived in cities where I didn't need to drive.
The boys needed to get to camp in Bedford Village, about fifteen minutes away. The husband was in the middle of helping the plumber pull up the kitchen floor.
If Lisbeth can have a dragon tattoo, play with fire and kick a hornet's nest, then I should certainly be able to drive my kids to camp on some country roads. We're not talking the Saw Mill, or 684 or anything crazy like that.
I grabbed the car keys, surprising myself and teasing the boys about their worried looks - "You're driving?" Oh, the shock! I had my laptop on the passenger seat with directions and I got us there lickety-split.
It was on the way home that I got turned around, calling the husband at one point to tell him not to worry, only of course he started worrying and I had to say with vehemence: "Let me figure this out myself!" He laughed. I found Katonah Village, and was able to pull into a parking spot and celebrated with a café au lait from the local coffee shop.
I ended up driving a lot more today. And reading about Lisbeth here and there. Where will I drive next? Where will you? (Oh golly, I guess I can't get away from using DRIVING as a metaphor, can I?)