It’s a balmy evening, so I’m outside listening to bird calls, the sound of the wind pushing trees around, and the occasional passing car. In Minnesota we have waited a long time this year for warm breezes and being able to go barefoot. It’s a welcome foretaste of summer.
My children found the perfect Mother’s Day gift for me, the gift of allowing me to tell stories every week that will accumulate on a website and be printed out in a book (with photos) at the end of a year. Each week I get a question to prompt me and then off I go. If I don’t like the question I can pick another one. For someone who loves to tell stories but always worries that I’ve told them too often, this is quite a boon.
I suppose that’s really why I started this blog – as an outlet for storytelling. And I don’t want to just send them out into the ether. I always love hearing your stories, too, and getting your feedback. I was contemplating today that my blog audience is composed mostly of my friends and family. I like it that way.
Across the street I can see a child swinging on a swing set. Boy, does that bring back memories. I used to love swinging back and forth, going higher and higher and then jumping off. Sometimes I’d lay back while I was swinging and just watch the sky above me. Sometimes someone else would push you and when you got high enough, they’d push right through underneath you. That was exciting. I used to wonder what would happen if you swung so far that you went right up over the bar and back again. It seemed like it would end badly, so I never attained to it.
When I was in my early 30’s I got on a swing to re-experience this joy from my youth. What I actually experienced was a distressing amount of dizziness. Apparently this is a sport for the young.
It’s appropriate now to contemplate and enjoy Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic poem called “The Swing.”
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside—
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
I’ll probably push this blog post on a swing until it goes ‘round and ‘round the top bar – then we’ll see what happens.
Lynniebeemuseoday 
Swings were one of my favorite things growing up. My kids loved when i would go under the swing when I pushed them. They called it an “underdog” and always wanted an underdog. It doesn’t work too well now that I’m an old grandma. The older grandkids have to take over for the younger ones.
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Underdog! I’d forgotten that we called it that. Fun times, right? I think I used to give my kids underdogs but don’t know if I could do it now. 😄
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Thank you for sharing! I am so excited about the book that will come of your stories. Yes, it seems like the perfect gift for you! I love the poetry of RLS. I think my mother had a similar style. She could recite poetry (both my parents- I think that was a part of their education) and she wrote her own as well. Wonderful memories of childhood! ❤
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Do you have her poetry? What were her favorite poems to recite?
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Somewhere…. The old Kentucky Belle I believe- it is PAGES long! She could recite the whole thing!
There were other verses (I guess that is what you would call them) that she recited to me at bedtime.
Other “volumes” as well. I’ll have to think about it. Ask me in July! 🙂 We both enjoyed Robert Louis Stevenson as it looks like you do as well.
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