McCarty Musings

Here I Am

Here’s what they don’t tell you about having young children. You know those moments you’ve slept late into the morning with the person you love, and you find yourself waking up slowly, gently? The moments pass as your love sleeps, turned away from you, and the sun paints a triangle of gold on their bare shoulder. And you are able to lay there uninterrupted and watch that golden triangle lazily slide across their shoulder and down their back, and you are allowed to think of nothing but their salient worth and goodness.

Well, you don’t get those anymore.

But.

You do get different moments. Moments when a voice calls your name in love and need the way that no one- no one- has ever loved or needed you before. Moments when you are the world and you give the world and you stop the world for one small beating heart. Moments when you, larger than life and smarter than smart, can make the monsters go away.

And when you feel the sweet weight of that small voice on your heart, and sticky, damp hands encircle your neck, you sigh and remember that the quiet mornings full of light will come again and when they do, you’ll then long for the way your name was called in the dark of night, like God calling to Samuel, and you’ll realize that you’ll never be happy, not really, for always wanting whatever gift has gone missing.

Gone Pishin'

Micah calls to ask: “Kristen: I have to ask you a very serious question. If you were Harper, would you rather have a Dora fishing pole, a Disney Princess fishing pole, or a Barbie fishing pole?”

“Uhh, it doesn’t matter what Harper wants- we’re getting Dora.”

“Yeah, I already did. I knew you’d say that, I just wanted to prove to you that I knew you would say that.”

Adoptive Mamas

(This is Harper, a day old goat-baby, and an unhappy Llama-mama.)

Where Do You Go To, My Lovely?

Tonight I'm going out with my sister. Now, when I plan to go on a social outing with anyone, I always like to have a secret stash of knock-knock jokes, anecdotes, and get-to-know-you questions (like, "would you rather cut off your own toe or own finger?) just to keep the conversation-ball rolling.

Tonight, if we run out of things to say, I am going to regale my sister with the story behind the Brad Paisely music video, "He Put That Bottle to His Head and Pulled the Trigger".

First, I will have to tell her that this is not a special gun that looks like a bottle. No, that would be kinda cool. We might have to stop by the Gun Shop and look at one of those Bottle Guns. Instead, the title is using a metaphor for a man who is drinking himself to death- and not in one sitting, but over several years. So, for that reason, it's kind of a shitty metaphor. Shooting yourself- fast. Destroying your liver- slow.

Then, I will tell her that Allison Krause sings back-up and she will say, "I like her." Then, I will tell her that Rick Schroeder is in it and she will say, "Ooh, I used to have a crush on him when I was four."

Then I will have to explain why I watched that whole video and why I had time to think about it.

That should take nine minutes. In fact, I will probably have this little conversation trick up my sleeve in case I see anyone in the next week and the conversation lulls. Ahh, I always feel safer with a story and a stash of knock-knock jokes.

Better Than Flowers

Nerd Alert

6 days until the Pulitzer Prize Winners are announced! Whoopee!

(Though, may I just say, I do not have a guess for Fiction this year. Which I hope means I haven't read it yet. And I hope it's not a year they don't pick one. Bummer.)

(I know. Nerd, nerd, nerd.)

My Sisters Sing Better Than Yours Do!

Okay- I have these amazing sisters that I talk about and write stories and poems about from time to time because they are the most creative, supportive, hilarious women on earth. And I just can't help it. A few posts down, I wrote a poem about my sister, Kacey, and a night that her singing saved me and continues to save me.

Let me say something about the other sister. Kinsey had a CD Release Party/Concert for her new CD "The Keeper" last night and she rocked rocked rocked. She had some incredibly talented band members backing her up as well. I was so proud of her. It's so much fun to listen to her songs and know all (or most) of the thoughts and stories that went into them. The CD and jacket artwork are amazing. I would post it here but she hasn't sent me a pic I can post yet. (Hint, hint, Kinz.) Of course my favorite song is about Kac and I- "Sister's Keeper" even though it's sad and depressing- but uplifting, too, because my sisters have kept and will continue to keep me. And I them. ;) It's funny how everyone in our family has a different creative outlet- and how often we are inspirations to and for each other.

Kinsey- you were amazing. Like you said- who cares about being famous? Would anyone really want to live the life of a Britney Spears? We live in an age that some may call narcissistic (and it certainly is) but it's nice to have so many opportunities to create and share with the people you love and respect deeply, and to share in the creative endeavors of your loved ones. It's play for grown-ups. And it feeds our souls.

Hooray for all of us who write and sing and dance and paint and play while we nurse and teach and pastor and sell and waiter and farm. We are a generation of artists who don't need fame and fortune to entice us to do our creating. We know that the act of creation is gift enough, and carries with it enough joy to keep us living.

Long live the unknown artists!

The Musers Fail Spectacularly At Providing Dignity to Baked Chickens, Says Anonymous Source

"A spokesman for the CBKR (Coalition for Baked-Chicken Rights) today urged baked chickens across the country to form a peaceful resistance and march on the Hen House. "We demand equal rights under the Constitutional Provisions for Pollo Dignity, the same rights that allow our Barbequed and Fried brothers to freely simmer in their own juices." No formal charges have been filed, though the Musers were not available for comment," says commenter "Bill", probably a McCarty Farm Chicken disguised as Chicken Liberation Blogger.

Kacey's Gift

“I’ll be seeing you
in all the old familiar places
that this heart of mine embraces
all day through…”

Warm June moonlight
lit up your face and your voice.

Fifteen and bored with life,
I asked you to sing the song
again
and again.
How many times?

Did something in me know
that the memory of you on our
summer porch would sing
down all the dark days ahead?
Days when I had to pick up the
phone to hear your voice,
robbed of your presence in my house.
Days when pill bottles rattled,
full of medicine and promises,
devoid of peace-

a peace I can still feel
a glowing whisper of
when I remember you singing,

“I’ll be looking at the moon,
but I’ll be seeing you.”

The Wrong Person for the Right Job

I am having so much fun teaching high school sunday school. After teaching sunday school classes off and on for ten years, I've got a whole new technique. All I do is try to promote thinking. I've got the best group of teenagers ever- they're smart and funny and kind. I've always taught junior high because in all their gawky dorkness, I saw myself. But I got talked into teaching the high schoolers, and I think I've found a new love. It's a loose "class"- I don't care if they text or fall asleep or are huge smart-asses. In fact, I encourage smart-assery. I think it's an important life skill that eventually leads to cynicism and independent thinking.

Easter Sunday, I tried to get the ball rolling on a conversation about why the resurrection might be important and why the myth of resurrection is so prevalent in our society, and of course, what Berrykins might have meant by “practice resurrection”, but we occasionally got sidetracked:

"Why do people hide eggs?"
“We hide Easter eggs to confuse Jesus!”
“Yeah, look what he does to water. Who knows what he would do to eggs!”

At least we laugh a lot. And Anne Lamott says laughter is carbonated holiness. And I think that although Jesus lived in the time before carbonated beverages, he would have really enjoyed that tickling feeling on the roof of your mouth you get when you drink a Dr. Pepper. I think Jesus would be in favor of carbonating holiness from time to time, as well as enjoying it fresh and even fermented.