Whistle Whetting

The days are never long enough. The days when you are with your child, but not with your child. And too few of ’em, too. Way too few.


School yard brawls

German measles

Night time neighborhood childworld

The first two are not missed. The last, well, I miss it, and I’m an adult. Kidworld. Kids are just gone in it. They may be within sight but they are so gone. Immersed.

I want that world for my child, and not just when we’re on vacation once a year. We tasted it on the Michigan shore and that taste left us hungry for more.

These days we watch our kids too closely, literally. Turn ’em loose! Send ’em out! “Get outta this house!”


Eating what is in front of you.

Whistle Stop Grocery

My mother was a tyrant about food and I did not like it. That’s not the mother I am, but I do feel a nostalgia for the black and white of it. The Clean-Your-Plate club has gone down the drain.

By having so much food always available I think we’ve lost more than we’ve gained. Not in terms of overall caloric intake, but in terms of perspective. Apparently we threw out the baby with the bathwater.


8 responses to “Whistle Whetting

  1. A sad, wistful story Lisa, beautifully said. The loss of kidworld is felt here too, but I think lives on in pockets elsewhere.

  2. Poignant as late September… Such a great writer!

  3. I’m nodding and crying at the same time!

  4. Was somebody going to tell me that I spelled sight wrong?????
    Now THAT is sad.

    • No, too lyrical a piece to complain about bad spelling or grammar. Though it did take a great deal of restraint on my part now that you mention it.

  5. This screams to be a Dear Photograph submission! Please tell me the Whistle Stop is still there so you can go back and take an updated picture.

  6. It is definitely still there. Must look into Dear Photograph. Now!

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