party in the park

on Saturday, April 19th, Project Homestead hosted Party in the Park at Avent. There was music, laughter, and games for kids.

Luckily, Matthew Clark had his camera.

Matthew Clark

Oxford, MS

matthewclark.net

half a lifetime

My parents have been married for 34 years today. 34 years. I talked to them both about it yesterday for awhile and am still just amazed. That is SO LONG. I told Momma that that was like half of her life and she quickly informed me, “Honey, that it was more than half of my life.” I did the math and, as per usual, she was right.

Now, I have a two date rule. There hasn’t been a man that’s lasted more than two dates with me in a long, long time. I’m picky. I’m panicky. I’m impossible. I always find something that bugs me. That isn’t short enough or tall enough or smart enough or wrong enough or fun enough or good enough at grammar or… well, you get the picture. So, I’m working on it. I really (sort of) am.

Momma’s helped me an awful lot to be less demanding and more open to the possibility of someone that might warrant at least a third date. I usually try and take her word to heart. She is, after all, an expert on the topic. I mean, she’s been married to THE. SAME. MAN. (that snores and leaves his towel on the sink) for 34 YEARS. I asked her once if he didn’t get on her nerves and she said, “Sure he does, but I’d rather it be him getting on my nerves than any one else in the world.”

I thought about that for awhile. I still think about it. And I think about the way that he kisses her in the kitchen (gross, but sweeter as I get older) and picks her up for lunch in the Wonder Bread van. And the way that she washes his underwear and socks (except for the one time when he politely informed her that “he’d been going without drawers for 2 days and could she please wash some”). And the way that he moves the trailer for the one thousandth time while she’s working in her flower beds (until he bought her a Gator because he was tired of moving the trailer). And how he says things about ”what a good looking woman” she is when she walks by (except for when that makes me want to vomit). And how she cans his tomatoes and peppers in the summertime. And the way that they go for Sunday rides in the old pickup truck. And the way that I can hear her laughing at him in the yard or with him while they sit in the living room.

And I think that maybe some day (like someday. not today. or any other day close to today, but someday.) I might just be interested in a man to get on my nerves for the next 34 years.

Happy Anniversary, Momma and Daddy.

-Emily Witt
Oxford friend (in Colombia for a while)
emilywithaheart.com

displace me

This weekend, around 30 students slept in cardboard boxes out in the Grove on a very chilly and damp night. No, they weren’t fumigating the dorms again. These students actually had a mission: to raise awareness about the widespread displacement of Ugandans due to civil war and political unrest.

They are all a part of a local chapter of Invisible Children and they have had a very exciting year writing letters, raising awareness and getting more students involved.

Here’s a video with more information.

home

Home for me is a house on a hill in Nowhere, Mississippi. There’s an old Dodge pickup in the driveway that smells like Skoal and sawdust and drives like a dream and pots on the sidewalk with flowers brimming over their sides. My mother is there her hands covered in earth and sweat dripping from her nose. There’s the familiar buzz of a John Deere lawnmower and my daddy wearing a fishing hat sitting in it’s bright yellow seat. A little Jack Russell terrier bounds through the grass, his hind legs barely touching the ground.

Saturday mornings there smell like biscuits and Tuesday nights smell like supper at the barn. There’s a pool in the backyard where my sister learned to swim and a creek in the pasture where my brother almost taught her to drive. There’s a kitchen table heavy laden with Southern tastes and the weight of countless family meetings. There’s a garden teeming with life and twelve acres of childhood memories that time and distance cannot erase. There’s love that has healed bloody knees and arms that have hugged away unworthy boyfriends and undeserved heartbreaks. There are calloused hands that have wiped noses, thrown baseballs, rubbed a runner’s feet and carried bread to cities I could never name.

And there’s a spot on a living room floor worn bare by a girl who grew up and moved away. And today that girl dreams of sliding the length of the hardwood as her Daddy covers up his baby, tucking in her feet, and muttering, “Somebody loves his big girl.”

-Emily Witt

Oxford friend in Colombia for a while

emilywithaheart.com

Why Don’t Modern Poems Rhyme, Etc. – Slate.com

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE BUSINESS OF VERSE

1. Sometimes I see a poem (in Slate or another magazine), and it doesn’t do a thing for me. Half of the time I can’t figure out what it means—what is that all about?

Generalizing won’t do. We’d have to discuss a particular poem. At times prominent magazines publish things that aren’t very good.

Magazines sometimes make me think of four lines the 18^th-century actor David Garrick wrote as part of his poem praising poet Thomas Gray. About a certain kind of reader, Garrick wrote:

The gentle reader loves the gentle Muse.
That little dares, and little means;
Who humbly sips her learning from Reviews,
Or flutters in the Magazines.

2. Isn’t so-called “free verse” just prose chopped into lines?

Read the following aloud, listening to the vowels and consonants, the sentence movements:

(…read more here)

When my brothers were too young to be wise

When my brothers were too young to be wise
but too old to name things creatively,
they invented a game called:
Let’s take turns jumping off Tom’s roof
and throw the cat after the person who jumped.
At least they took turns…

Later, when my brothers were too young to be wise
but old enough to put their scientific knowledge to use,
they played a game called:
Let’s pour gas over this giant pile of weeds
and then light it on fire.
At least the doctor said
that their eyebrows will grow back…

Later, when my brother was old enough to be depressed
but too young to know how to cope,
he would play a game called:
Let’s go to Tom’s house and do a lot of drugs
and drink all his step-dad’s beer.
At least there was that one English teacher
who asked if something was wrong…
but what could you say?

We are so poorly equipped to deal with these troubles,
and there are so few doctors of the soul these days…
What is there to do?

I know some people who fight it all their lives,
kicking against the goads till they bleed to death.
Others, like Dad, ignore it,
thinking that hard work, sunshine, and
the passing of time will resolve it.
Still others, like Mom, ostracize and cast blame
by leaving condemnatory evangelical polemics taped
to your bathroom mirror.

But now by brothers and I are old enough
to begin to be wise,
yet still young enough to climb the cold roof
to talk and to smoke.
So I will play a new game with you called:
Let’s go together and bear one another’s burdens.
At least I will not laugh at your pain,
I will not try to fix your problems,
I will not ignore your suffering
or condemn you will my piety…
I will simply lie here next to you in the cold
while we breathe our smoky prayers to God.

-Raeban Nolan
Quoted in This Beautiful Mess

The End is Near.

“Take heart. Suffering when it climbs the highest lasts but a little time.” – Aeschylus

In a hail of statistics, Child Abuse Prevention month has brought many communities’ tragic secrets into the open. This is no different in Lafayette County, where several organizations work diligently to protect the innocent and alert the public at large to the severity of the problem with the hope of putting a stop to it. The numbers are difficult to hear: cases involving the abuse of nearly 6 million children were reported in 2005 in the U.S.(the last year of published data). Nearly 15% of those cases involved physical abuse and 10% involved sexual maltreatment of some kind. Most staggering of all may be the fact that 1,460 children died as the result of the abuse.

Locally, the problem is translated the same. Family Crisis Services, a child advocacy center here in Oxford, serves children from Lafayette and several surrounding areas counties in the wake of abuse. Over the last year, they have worked with nearly 50 victims of child abuse in our county alone. This problem effects people of every race and socioeconomic level.

But all is not lost. In a world with so many terminal problems – escalating gas prices, unrest around the world, a baloney political scene, etc. – it is hard to find hope in dark situations. With child abuse, however, there is some light beginning to break through, especially around Oxford. Several great organizations with dedicated professionals and volunteers are working together to provide short-term help and long-term solutions. This week, clergy and church members from different churches and different denominations met to discuss both the problem and partnership solutions that include religious organizations, government agencies and non-profit groups together.

Yes, the facts are difficult to hear, but the end of child abuse is near. The solution to the epidemic will come as partnerships continue to be formed, progress is made and awareness is heightened. “I believe we can end child abuse in the United States within three generations,” says Victor Vieth, a champion of child abuse awareness and director of the National Child Protection Training Center. “[We] can achieve the sort of victory we have in the fight against polio.” These are hopeful words and they remind us that all is not lost.

It wont be easy by any means, and to reach the end, we also have to recognize that its nearness is also geographical. As with all great problems, the greatest solutions lie in local actions. Child abuse is no different and there is work for all of us to do. At the most basic level, every adult who reads the Local Voice should realize their role in stopping abuse by reporting it to the Department of Human Services (1.800.222.8000)as soon as it is discovered. The people at DHS are trained to investigate suspected abuse and provide immediate assistance for children in need.

Beyond that, support at the local level can come in the form of volunteering with organizations in the community that fight for children (these include Family Crisis Services, Interfaith Compassion Ministry, Lift Inc.). Also, find a way to serve the Oxford/Lafayette County community at large because of the reciprocal effects that it can have: healthy communities help to strengthen the families within it.

All is Quiet (from March 28th)

So the wifi finally started working here in the hospital. Great that it did late the last night I’m here. But I’m fine with leaving tomorrow. It hasn’t been terrible. But my little “bed” leaves a lot to be desired. It’s after 1am and I’m delaying trying to get sleep in it. Maybe if I get really tired it will come easier.

The delivery wasn’t too dramatic. A few tense moments. And then the usual, “is that going to fit through there” moment. But things wound up smoothly.

The day was a normal one. But The Wife has regained some strength and brightness in her eyes. The Boy is seemingly doing fine. He slept really well last night. Not much of a peep. I hope that is a trend he continues over the next few years. He’s nursing well, but we’re still waiting on the milk to come in.

Tomorrow we go home. But we can’t go until we have a name. So I think we’re really close. Here are a few hints of what might happen. I say might because it’s apt to change between now and then.

• Maybe use one of my names.
• Maybe use a name from the Bible
• Maybe use a name of a friend
• Maybe use a name that is synonymous with local Oxford, MS culture.
• Maybe name him after Tim Riggins from Friday Night Lights.

We shall see…

-Blake Thompson

Oxford, MS

BlakeThompson.net

a casualty of the writers’ strike

a collection of haikus about 24

My taxes are high
No wonder. CTU has
A million Tahoes.

Hey! That’s that Hobbitt!
The dude who played Rudy, right?
Goonies was the bomb.

Please don’t shoot me, man!
Oh crap! Not in the knee, man!
Aggghhh, you freaking did!

Bauer’s sunshades rock.
When he puts those babies on,
I have a man-crush.

Chloe frightens me.
She is one unpleasant chick.
She needs a hug bad.

Hillary? McCain?
Barack Obama? Screw That!
I’m voting Palmer.

China built a wall.
They are gonna need it too.
Shouldn’t mess with Jack.

Jack’s wife is heinous.
There is no possible way
she is Kim’s real mom.

Remember that time
Jack shot Chappelle in the head?
I yelled, “Holy Crap!”

-Lyle Morgan

Oxford, MS

lylemorgan.blogspot.com