Frank Sinatra, Journey, and CCR’s Cosmo’s Factory vinyl records took a spin mid-morning today. I must have the earth on the brain. With Evelyn using the words country, continent, and city interchangeably, I took on the Herculean task of creating a beginner geography curriculum. Because the amount of information is overwhelming, breaking it apart into separate, teachable Kit Kat bar sections is the only way to go.
Biggest to smallest are the bars, I decided: the world → continents → countries → states → cities. A globe, frequently retrieved from the kitchen’s floating shelf serves as a physical representation of our couch among the cosmos—a place of reference and wonder. I’ll return to this topic, but the word wonder and the fact that we’re literally floating through space, comfortably perched on this planet (as opposed to the ones that would scatter our cells instantaneously), brings me back to something I’ve said before: I want a telescope.
Sitting with the depth of darkness punctured by bright white lights of varying cragginess, color, and size is like capturing the essence of a kiss. It’s otherworldly, without end, a perpetual ongoing yawn, a wide arm stretch into the infinite.
As I was saying, a systemic approach to the world—interactive and interesting—is my goal. So with the seven continents, I traced and cut out their shapes, taped their backs, and let Evelyn puzzle them onto the globe. After a couple of weeks of this, she—unprompted and to my surprise—pointed to a wordless landmass and said, “That’s Asia.”
On each continent shape I wrote the name, its rank by size, and added little colored-pencil pictures:
A) Mount Everest
B) The largest desert
C) Where the most people live
D) Where the longest cave system is
E) Where anteaters live
Answers: A. Asia, B. Sahara/Africa, C. Asia, D. Mammoth/Kentucky North America, E. South America.
Didn’t know you were getting a pop quiz today, did you?
As I’ve been typing, a quote from Frozen River—one I wrote down last night—keeps shifting down the page with every new line. Its faithful dedication, always moving with me and never leaving my side, has earned it a spot in the big leagues. Presenting:
“Worry only about the care you give when called upon. The rest is not yours to fret about.”
I like the advice, but even more the way the elder—rocking in front of the fire—passed it on, like handing over a handmade quilt. Or the way little flashes of our best memories drift through the mind, calming us right back into them: the cool air, the taste of iced tea, just sweet enough. Whooee.
Writing is sacred, and I’m glad I have it here to steady me.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 