The Boy in the Garden

I finished the blue blanket, delivered it to newborn Jonathan, and am now embarked on an afghan smply because I was seduced by a photo in a knitting book...the colors!

This is actually a very simple project---you make 12 different 27" strips and then sew them together and add a border. Requires no counting, so it is easy to do while watching football (good game, Patriots, yesterday!) but it's a lot of volume so will take a while.

And I would be a lousy nun, because I have already violated my vow—remember I said I was going to write 5 pages a day?!—but like (I assume) all failed nuns, I feel guilty and repentant, and determined to be a better human being.  Starting today.  5 pages.  For sure. 

In the meantime I have just read Allen Say's beautiful new book, "The Boy in the Garden." I remember Allen telling me the story of himself, the boy in the garden, and the feeling of becoming aware that the adults were laughing at him as they watched him through the window. I remember having a similar experience at age probably 4, myself, and the feeling of having been betrayed (being spied on, and laughed at) by the people I most loved, my parents.

Of course Allen has elevated his own small personal memory into something much larger, something that explores reality and imagination.

Now. 5 pages. Here we go.

 

Comments

[Elizabeth]

I haven't read this book yet, but I had an experience like that too at age 4. It's a sad moment, one where I think I grew up a lot. I wonder if all children have an experience like that or if it's only certain personality types?

[Lois Lowry]

My guess: it's an experience unique to introspective,introverted, super-sensitive kids. I think the average well-adjusted child would shrug it off.