writing – Dear Liza

International Adventure Grandma

Dear Liza,

Since you moved to Denmark, I have been studying about your new country so I can feel like I am visiting you. Denmark is a lot smaller than the United States. It is even smaller than the state of Oregon, where I live.

Don’t get me wrong. I really, really, like that Denmark is small. It is like Peter Pan’s Neverland, so it is never too far from one adventure to another.

The story is about an imaginary YOU and an imaginary ME traveling around Denmark, from Copenhagen to Horsens. The current title is “International Adventure Grandma”.

I have looked at a bunch of maps and websites, and have followed streets and bike paths with Googlemaps. I have found fun things to do and gotten us involved in interesting disasters.

And after four months of working away and lots of help from friends and family, I felt almost ready to share. But something was missing. It needed pictures.

I am not an illustrator, but have decided to do the pictures myself and learn as I go along. Here are some very rough ideas. I haven’t even decided if the pictures will be water colored, colored pencils, collages, or some other media. I am still learning.

But I promise it will be done by the time we visit in the spring!!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Getting Ready for Winter

Dear Liza,

A lot has happened since I wrote to you in August! You and your family have moved to Horsens, Denmark, and are discovering wonderful things to do there.

I have started learning Danish on Duolingo to get ready for our visit.

I had surgery on my ear to remove a skin cancer, and then a skin graft to put me back together. I am healing nicely.

Summer has ended and Fall has begun, with all the gardening that entails and beauty it brings.

I have planted some Hairy Vetch (a real thing) as a winter cover crop for my garden patch. It should put some nitrogen back in the soil and give it a nice green mulch come Spring.

I wrote a story about imaginary Liza and imaginary Grandma Judy, called “International Adventure Grandma”.

It has maps and secrets codes and I really enjoyed writing it! It is currently being edited by a trusted friend and I promise to bring a real hold-in-your-hand copy when I come visit in the Spring.

I expect to get back to writing this blog regularly, and hope you will come along and see what I’m up to.

Love,

Grandma Judy

An Almost-Summer Walkabout

Dear Liza,

Before the rain this past weekend, we had four wonderful days of sun. Grandpa Nelson and I were able to get out for a long walk. After lunch at Zach’s we headed south through the Richmond neighborhood.

The peonies in Southeast Portland this year are absolutely stunning, and this group in a planter along Lincoln are pure sunny pink and and as big as a dinner plate.

As we were noticing all the blooms, I was stopped in my tracks by this piece of chalk art on a driveway. No one was around to ask about the artist, so we just enjoyed it, photographed it, and moved along.

The next piece of art was less colorful but charming, even so. Someone with less art experience had tried to paint a cat hiding in the high grass, failed, and expressed their disappointment.

Further along, these tall lupines graced the parkway, framed perfectly by a 1920s bungalow and willow tree.

As we were walking, Grandpa Nelson asked, “when you run out of things to write about, will we have to move?” I told him that in five years of writing blogs, Portland hasn’t let me down yet. I think we’re safe.

Love,

Grandma Judy

It’s a Mystery to Me

Dear Liza,

I am writing a new story!

You might remember that my last story was about a girl who lived in Portland in 1903. She overcame many difficulties and was in a parade for Teddy Roosevelt.

Mouse helps with my map of 1903 downtown Portland

I had so much fun doing the research for it, I sort of hated having to make up a plot. I just wanted to keep learning about the city. I didn’t want to change any of the history, so I couldn’t commit to the story. With that sort of mental conflict, it’s no wonder it didn’t go anywhere.

My new story isn’t taking any research at all, because it is a mystery story that happens right here, right now. All of the action happens in our condominium building as the Covid pandemic is winding down (fingers crossed).

The mystery being solved is a series of thefts from our very own porches, porch pirates style. The Amazon packages go missing and no one knows who is doing it or why. Since I am not being limited by history, I am getting to make it up out of my own silly brain, and I am having so much fun!

The story was suggested by our neighbors John and Stacy and their three legged dog, Trevor. Trevor is in the story, of course, but the hero of the whole thing is our own brave detective, Mouse.

Her natural curiosity is important, because the story is told from her point of view. I am spending a lot of time trying to get into her furry little head. What does she think about things? What are her motivations? What skills does she have that would make a good detective?

Needless to say, this is going to be a very silly story. But I hope it will be fun, too.

I will let you have a read when it is ready.

Love,

Grandma Judy

900th Blog!!!

Dear Liza,

June 30, 2017, almost three and a half years ago, was the day of my first blog. I had come up to Portland by plane, then the Red Line train to get to downtown, where I had lunch and met an itinerant poet named Shannon. Then I took a bus to Auntie Katie’s house. The next day I picked up the keys to our first apartment here in Portland. I signed papers, measured the new place, and flew back to Salinas.

Shannon the Poet in front of Powell’s, 2017

That day was a good omen of my life in the city so far. I have pushed myself to walk further, get around on public transit, explore further afield, chat with all sorts of folks, and spend more time on my own.

Auntie Katie and I going out to “Hamilton”

I have written about dinners out, concerts, zoos, and parks here in Portland;

vacations to Seattle and Vancouver, B.C.;

trips back to Salinas to see you and your family and friends;

and some less-fun trips to hospitals and doctor’s offices.

And lately, I’ve written about coping with NOT being able to do those things.

Writing this blog, now 900 essays long, is part of the coping. Writing how I feel makes it real and solid and more manageable.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Miss Harvey Returns!

Dear Liza,

Many years ago, I did some writing and research for The First Mayor’s House in Salinas. I wrote, and Auntie Bridgett Spicer illustrated, a little book called “Miss Harvey Remembers … Getting to Salinas”.

It was fun to learn about Isaac J. Harvey and his family, who moved to Salinas before it was even a city. They built a house, a store, and became part of the group that incorporated and laid out the city, way back in 1868. Isaac’s oldest daughter, Saphronia, left town so she could go to college and get her teaching license, just to open up the first school in this new town.

Over the years, I worked with David Baker, Mary Randall, and MaryJane Choate to create lessons and tours for local school kids so they could understand their town’s history. It was so much fun!

When we moved to Portland, I thought I was all done with that. But, like so many times before, I was wrong.

With all the schools going on-line because of Covid-19, The First Mayor’s House is making virtual tours and on-line lessons to take the place of actual walk-throughs of the House. It makes me sad that kids won’t get to pump the water and use the scrub board, roll a hoop or touch and feel the plants.

But, it turns out, I get to play! When MaryJane asked if I could read the story on camera, for kids to watch in their on-line classes. it seemed easy. Reading stories out loud was my favorite part of my thirty years of teaching. Piece of cake.

Wrong again. I had to find the story, which has been tucked away for years. In re-reading it, I discovered a factual error and had to figure out how to correct it. I had to find a ‘set’ (a bookcase in my bedroom) and a ‘camera crew’ (Auntie Bridgett) to make it look good.

And I had to use my teacher voice, which I have been running from for two years now. It was all harder than I thought.

But eventually we got a rough draft video done. I am still figuring out how to send to Salinas so they can include it in their collection. Or maybe, the internet being what it is, I don’t even send it, but just post it. Who knows? We are learning as we go along.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Teacher Voice

Dear Liza,

THIS is the sort of reader interest I’m after…

I was a teacher for thirty years. It was my job, my passion, my hobby. It became who I was.

Teachers talk about their “Teacher voice”. This is loud (but not yelling) way that teachers get thirty kids to listen to them. It can be stern, or disapproving. It is usually just matter-of- fact. But it is never FUN. It is never meant to make folks feel at ease or get them to laugh. It is an information delivery system.

Mine was good, too. I speak fluent Teacher.

Writers also talk about their Voice. It is their point of view, their style, their way of choosing words to make readers feel a certain way. It needs to be easy to read, entertaining, quirky. FUN.

Unfortunately for me, my Teacher voice seems to be getting in the way of my Writer voice. After months of studious revision, I still write with a very strong Teacher accent.

On the way to the Japanese Garden yesterday, Jasper asked me to remind him about Sacajawea, whose statue we passed. “But don’t say it like a teacher,” he said.

First, I determined not to be offended. This is a perfect “out of the mouths of babes” moment. I needed to learn from it.

Then I saw that if I couldn’t use my Teacher voice, I needed to use another voice, any other voice. You can’t speak without a Voice! So I borrowed a New York/ New Jersey gangster voice, jiggling my shoulders like James Cagney to help it along.

“Okay, see, there’s this President, see, Thomas Jefferson. Nice guy, writes well, even doh he owns slaves. He sends these two guys, Lewis and Clark, haulin’ clear across the country. Go! He says. These poor slobs had No Idea where they were going!” I went on to tell a shortened version of the story, just enough to make Jasper laugh and let him remember what he knew about Sacajawea.

Ironically, the main character of my story is a little girl who has become mute due to trauma. She has literally lost her voice.

How can I find my own voice to tell this story? How could I possibly write my story, in someone else’s voice?

Love,

Grandma Judy

Wanderin’ Around

Dear Liza,

I am thinking about starting a new story. The one I have been working on, about Clara getting ready to be in the 1903 parade, is being edited and, therefore, out of my hands for now.

But they say that you get better at writing by writing…. so I will keep writing on a different story, using a side character from the first story as the main character. Her name is Abigail Lott and, at the time I am writing about, she is 21 years old.

I think better when I walk, and always love talking my ideas over with Grandpa Nelson. He asks good questions and makes me think. Of course he does! The same things that make him a good ‘idea guy’ are the reasons I have loved him for so long.

So we walked… about five miles in all, down to the river, across the Willamette River on the Morrison Bridge, and north about three blocks to the Pine Street Market, a big old building now being used as offices above and a luncheon/ mall below. There are sausage sandwiches, stuffed pork buns, pizza, ramen, and ice cream. We’ve eaten there before, and we both love Bless Your Heart Burger best.

Portland Saturday Market by the Skidmore Fountain

Our walk was mostly grey. Fall has moved past the warm and sunny part into the drizzly, rain-ish part. All the colors come from the leaves that are still changing color and drifting like bright snow.

By the Portland Saturday Market near the river, we saw this art installation, a tribute to the city’s firefighters, called “Ascension”. I must have walked right past it many times, but never noticed it! Silly Grandma Judy.

As we crossed back over the river, we got a panorama of the city, and it looked like a Dutch painting , as though it were painted by the Master of Browns (this was the nickname Vincent Van Gogh gave his uncle, a professional artist).

One our way back, we saw this message spelled out with Post it Notes in a shop window.

It is a quote from a young New Zealand woman making a speech in their hall of government. In just two words, she managed to say, “Look, I know you older folks had good intentions. I know you are used to being the center of the Universe, but you’ve kind of screwed the world up and if you could just step aside, we’ll have a go at it now, okay?” And I’m okay with that!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Three Hundred!!

Dear Liza,

I started writing this blog as a way to stay in touch with you and my friends in Salinas after I moved up to Portland. I thought I would write a little, get bored, and quit….like I usually do.

But Portland is such an interesting place that I keep finding things to write about. Today, as a matter of fact, is my 300th post. Three hundred adventures. Three hundred stories.

Portland is a big city, and has big city problems, like anywhere. The housing costs are high and homeless people struggle to get by. Trash and noise can be a nuisance. And if you are driving, there will eventually be traffic that frustrates you.

But there are also kind people and missions that help the homeless folks. Groups adopt neighborhoods to pick up trash. And transit is good enough that if you don’t want to drive, you don’t have to.

And the benefits of this lovely city are enormous. Art. Music. Parks. Art and music in parks! Food and drink and coffee and pastries.

And the reason I can enjoy all of this is because I am not working. Working, besides being…well, work, takes up an enormous amount of time. Days and days of NOT getting to walk at random and stop when you feel like it. Evenings of being so tired you can’t even think of an adventure.

Being at liberty is such a joy and privilege that sometimes I feel like I’m cheating.

But maybe if I share it with you I can share some of the joy, and feel less selfish.

**You never know who you’ll meet at Lone Fir Cemetery**

Love,

Grandma Judy

The Process is Progressing

Dear Liza,

As you know, I have been working on my children’s history story about Portland for a little over a year now. For the first six months I read about Portland history so I know how it became a city and what sort of interesting things happened here. The Oregon Historical Society and Belmont Library became my favorite hangouts.

I chose to put my story in the spring of 1903, when President Theodore Roosevelt came through Portland on a country-wide tour. There was a parade, a ceremony in what is now Washington Park, and a banquet. It was a very big deal and I think it would make a good backdrop for a mystery story. But as I told you, I don’t know much about mysteries.

So, I studied that, too. For a few weeks, I read Nancy Drew books and articles about mystery story plots, character development, and clues.

But as a teacher, I never really understand something until I need to teach it. So I pretended I was teaching someone about how to make a mystery story. I cut shapes out of paper to show everything that happened in the story: action, characters, description, distractions.

I practiced using these pieces to map out the first eight chapters of The Bungalow Mystery, #3 of the Nancy Drew books. I could see when action happened, when characters were introduced, how the chapters alternated between action and description, and how each chapter ended in a new mystery or dangerous situation.

This took some of the mystery out of writing my mystery! I am now working on my own story, using these paper pieces to make the characters move to solve the riddles of the story and come to a happy ending. If I don’t like the way it is going, I just move the pieces around! I feel organized, less confused, but flexible enough to create and re-create the story until it is right.

Of course, once I have this visual outline done, I still have to write the actual words….but that’s the fun part! I am happy to have found a way of working that works for me.

Love,

Grandma Judy