“Me and Frank was home abed!”

Nope! The Legendary Husband has not changed his name!

This is a frequent saying from my Farm Gramma, Elsie.

She was a weaver of stories, many of them about the trouble her five boys were out causing while she and Grampa Frank were sleeping, probably under a quilt like this one, which Elsie pieced.

Legend does not mention whether my Aunt Mary joined in the mischief, but I wouldn’t rule it out!

I never knew Frank. He was killed in a train accident years before I was born. Mostly what I know was that Gramma quit high school, forfeiting her long-promised graduation gift of gold beads, to marry him. And this – the much quoted line from their engagement announcement in the local paper…

Elsie Hanna Royce… is engaged to marry Franklin Cornelius Boardman who is, of all things, a Democrat!

As you might imagine, I’ve been pondering all of this a lot.

So, last night, I wrote about 1,000 words worth of what I’ve been pondering.

And, after that, when me and Bill were home abedGrandmother Moon, got into the conversation.

After assuring me that all those words worth of writing (and a bit of ranting!) were perceptive – and no doubt helpful to me in the writing – she wondered, gently, if they felt like they’d be as helpful for you as they were for me.

It was a good question!

And there was still time to visit dream-land again, with her shining courageously, even in this waning crescent phase, over the bed.

What came to me was a jigsaw puzzle of wondering.

Had Elsie, perhaps, been trying to pretend she didn’t know what was going on because she didn’t know what to do with it?

And how might we, all these years later, be trying – at whatever level of awareness – to do the same?

And, if so, what is it time for us to see?

Now, please hear me say that the part of me that’s wondering these things isn’t shaming or blaming me or you!

It’s just noticing that, for generation upon generation, part of the survival medicine in our baskets has seemed to be along the lines of not causing trouble or making a fuss.

And, if you’re anything like me, noticing that the time for not making a fuss has come and gone can feel more than a bit terrifying.

Which is about where I woke up for the second time today.

And, I did the usual things…

Tea. Big dogs out and back in. My time for being and learning and praying.

And List Time. You know… crossing things off & adding things on!

And some time to be in circle with friends on the road. Friends who love questions, too. Here are a couple more:

How might it serve you to be awake?

To be less consciously home abed?

To allow yourself to know?

To allow yourself to move in the direction of being fully you?

And what, then, might you do?

It seems entirely likely to me that the answers to what we will do will go down in our personal histories as the Epic SuperPower Paths we walked. And, just in case you’re the type who’d rather not walk alone, I can help! CLICK HERE!

ps… there are fabulous one-of-a-kind purses in Hat Heaven, too! And Christmas in July is running out! Caution, though… as accessories go, these are VERY brave!

3 comments on ““Me and Frank was home abed!””

Comments are closed.

Sue Boardman, Certified Intentional Creativity®
Color of Woman Teacher & Coach

Subscribe to My Blog

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.


Together we make a difference!

Welcome! Check your email shortly