Copper Stories

I've been very productive for the past two days (maybe not at work . . .) with answering emails, writing letters, washing ALL of the dishes, doing laundry, and last night, unpacking the two boxes of things that go on my dresser. We moved here at the end of October and apparently, I haven't needed a necklace since. I went through all of my jewelry (not much) and put in in a cedar box I found in Grandma's stuff. I think she would like it there. I put out the ceramic pitcher that a college friend made and I set Grandma's copper pitcher next to it. I love the contrast of new and old.

I had a chance to go through old stories and I found the ones I wrote about E, T, and A. I don't think they flatter any of them and I wish I could have written them better. I'm thinking of sending E the one I wrote about him because he's asked to see it several times. I also found a story titled "I Lost My Baby" for creative writing class. I vaguely remembered that it was in that folder, but I don't know if I should have opened and read it. The first part didn't grab me, but the second half was creative nonfiction about C and how I married him because I knew he would make a good dad. It was a little heartbreaking and I cried. I was more surprised by how well I captured the emotions of an experience that I'd never been through (yet) and that the tone hit me as accurate and somehow not wallowing in despair. I like that story a lot. It says so much about how women start thinking about what's happening in their lives and how these thoughts snowball into something very real to them.