Where I'm From

I found the template for this poem/musing/list on a friend's blog and I just love the exercise. So here's a little insight into me. Thanks Shannon. :) Where I'm From I am from sweaters with thumb holes; From blogspot.com and Coffee and S'Cream I am from the grey house with the purple door except that our door is around back where the door bell doesn't work; where the neighbour kids laugh and play and smile shyly through the fence at us. I am from masses of thriving shasta daisies and blossomless poppies and sunflowers, from learning how to grow in Calgary's soil and climate and waking up each morning to disvover how our garden has changed. I'm from cuddling under the heavy wool comforter on the morning of the first snow. I am from freckles and bad knees; From Bedstemor and Beppe, whose legacies reach far beyond arthritis. I'm from all kinds of music played all the time and insecurity and a tendency towards bitterness; From "don't take any wooden nickels" and whuppins. I am from precarious Baptistness with a touch of Lutheran symbolism and a lack of Christian Reformity and a desire to drop the denominations and gain the relationship. I am from Frieslanders and Danes, from frikadellers and Johnny's skinny pancakes. From late night Pink Panther and Marx Brothers movies borrowed from the library and watched forwards and backwards, sped up and slowed down to the point where me and the boys could all quote all the words; From Jane Austen movies and folk concerts, music and geocaches and hikes and runs, From getting married young and learning who I am while learning who Brent is, and sharing these experiences of growth and change. From all the pictures stored up on Brent's computer that I am in and Brent isn't--because he's the one taking the pictures. From being surprised how normal I look in the pictures--more than normal: being surprised that I might not actually be as awkward and frumpy as I feel inside. From being amazed and proud at how talented Brent is at photography and from visiting interesting places knowing that he will unlock previously unknown beauty from them through the lens of his camera. From being frightened and excited about all the places we will go where photographs are waiting to be discovered. And hoping that these images will need my words to accompany and complete them. Edited to Add: Thanks George Ella Lyon, for stopping by and claiming credit for the original poem. :)