When you think of it, stories were our main entertainment when we were little. I didn’t have the kind of parents who read me bedtime stories. Now that I think about it, I don’t remember ever seeing my mother or father sit down and read a book. I guess if it weren’t for public education, I’d be drawing stick-figures on this blog instead of typing.
But the adults in my life loved stories and spoke them into any pause in a conversation.
We’d go over to someone’s house (folks used to visit face to face a lot more often when I was little). While the kids were supposed to be playing, the adults sat around and told their stories. Stories about the war; tales about neighbors who made moonshine or stole watermelons; Jokes about stupid horses and even stupider owners.
Kids used to be ignored a lot back then; so we were invisible even when we were in earshot to hear about Aunt Gertie goin’ downtown with “some man,” or the red-eyed cobbler who couldn’t hit a tack straight after a weekend with a bottle.
Of course, we didn’t understand a lot of the things we overheard, but you don’t survive to be 6 years old without recognizing disapproval when you sense it underlining the spoken word. We interpreted this as Aunt Gertie was in for a spanking and we made a mental rule to never go downtown with a man-or have our shoes fixed on Mondays.
I think we still love our stories.
Sometimes they come in different forms. The You-Tube video of Susan Boyle has received over 85 million hits. It is a short (7 minute) story with a heroine who fights seemingly impossible odds and wins.
Blogs are stories. Our weavings, jokes, and tales. With over 113 million blogs (and that doesn’t include the estimated 73 million blogs in China), you may wonder if anyone ever sees your story.
True, your thoughts may ride the internet waves for years, but even if it’s just one person who stumbles upon your words; you’re still telling your story. No longer do you have to have disgraceful aunts and quirky neighbors to spin a good anecdote. The blogs in my sidebar full of stories about knitting, job hunting, writing, and life-examining thoughts.
Some are seeking a way to go on. Some have found it. All of our yarns show our mistakes, successes, and how human we are. We go on-telling stories. And that gives me hope.