Da Count -Big Orange Splots

One of my favorite children's books, which I always enjoyed reading with my kids, was The Big Orange Splot by Daniel Manus Pinkwater. If you are not familiar with it, get thee to a library and check it out. It is wonderful. It;s about Mr. Plumbean, who lives on a neat street where all the houses are the same. One day a seagull flies over his house and spills a can of orange paint on Mr. Plumbean's roof. The neighbors are in an uproar because the neighborhood is no longer neat. they implore Mr. Plumbean to do something about this problem assuming he will conform to the old pattern. Instead he preserves the big orange splot and paints the rest of his house in wild colors and patterns. He also includes elephants, pretty girls, and steam shovels. When the neighbors express their outrage his defense is, "My house is me, and I am it. It looks like all of my dreams." One by one, Plumbean's neighbors begin to convert their houses into their own dreams as respect for creativity and individuality spreads. They discard the notion of a neat street and find community in the idea that, "Our street is us and we are it. It looks like all of our dreams."

Yesterday's craft project was to make a log cabin bank out of a Chinese take out box. One helper covered them all in brown paper for me. Another helper made a sample. We put out the boxes, a bunch of construction paper and markers, and some glue and scissors. I told the kids they could make their bank houses any way they wanted. I absolutely loved watching the different ideas they all had.


One fellow's dreams didn't consist so much of a house as a fortress. (And check out the hairstyle he sported for crazy hair day and mismatch day. Rock on!)

For some people, their dreams included trees, shutters, and pets they could indulge.

For some, the dreams include sliding boards that start at the roof. I hope he invites me to visit someday.

Just being allowed to work on your own dreams is a cause to smile.

And then there are a these girls who have dreams of books so they didn't make houses at all. One made a library, the other made her own Border's Store. They are girls after my own heart. Oh, and the newest Borders franchise owner has much more fun making funny faces when she is asked to smile and show what makes her happy about her house. Rock on, girlfriends!
When I planned this craft I have to admit, I only had vague notions of 50 little log cabins. Mind you I never require conformity in my craft projects. I just didn't imagine so many kids would go so far from the cabin idea and add so many other embellishments. When I began to see the fabulous divergence I got as excited as the kids. I just had to fan that flame. It reminded me of Pinkwater's book, which I had not thought of in a long time. It was a very good and timely reminder. So this week I am counting such a sublime chance to peek in the windows of many dream houses.

Now tell me how a house that is you and you are it would look if it looked like all of your dreams.

Friday 55 & Da Count-A Sense of Service

FRIDAY 55

A man hobbles through the chow line,
waiting for the first good meal he's had in a while.
His feet are covered in blisters
instead of clad with shoes.
A boy serving food
notices the man's feet,
asks if he may help,
then removes his own shoes
to give to someone
who needs them more.


DA COUNT

Last week while I was at the beach, Diana was on a trip with friends and Calypso was staying elsewhere because I couldn't convince her to come to the beach. At the same time Mr. Lime and Isaac were on a work trip to New Orleans. Yes, this many years later there is still work to be done in cleaning up and repairing in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. I have not gone mainly because the mode of transportation (over 24 hours driving straight through) would demolish my back to the point of rendering me useless as a worker and the proliferation of mold is more than I think my lungs could handle as well. Mr. Lime and each of the girls have gone more than once. Last week was Isaac's first visit.

I knew it would be an eye opening experience for Isaac to see the destruction and the poverty in the areas where they'd be working (Lower 9th Ward). I know he's a hard worker and does not shirk from physical labor (paraphernalia left strewn around the living room notwithstanding). His dad has also been working with him ahead of time on various odd jobs locally to give him practical experience in some of the construction type skills he'd need. I'm told he did drywalling, spackling, flooring, and scrubbed out a particularly vile mosquito breeding ground which was formerly a swimming pool all with a good attitude and to the best of his ability. I was glad to hear that but not surprised. The group he was with also prepared and served meals as part of a soup kitchen for the homeless and needy.

What moved me to tears was hearing the above story I related in the 55 when Mr. Lime called to tell me what our boy had done. No one asked him to give his sneakers. Isaac saw another human being in distress and decided on his own to do what was within his power to alleviate it even at personal cost. Some may be inclined to say it was pointless because there are so many other people with needs that it makes no difference or that maybe my boy was manipulated. Some may ask if he plans to give away his shoes to every barefooted homeless man he ever sees. None of that matters. It made a difference to the man who received the shoes and I could not possibly be prouder of a young man with a compassionate heart who is moved to practical action.