This is what I wish I had the "stuff" to write. You took a piece of your day, put it into words, and EVEN made it enjoyable, which to ME (considering what happens when I try to do this) is super impressive. I love ice cream trucks too.
Ketzia, I'll bet you do have the 'stuff' to write things like this. I had no 'great' idea when I started this essay. I'm super glad you and others have enjoyed it; that counts as a big win to me. But truly, all I did was what I said. Plucked one small event that pleased me out of a day and described it. (Using those active verbs and specific nouns I mentioned, plus veering away from adjectives and adverbs as much as I could.) Then I let my mind wander: What was I thinking about along with this event? I wasn't strict with myself: I wrote it all down. Give it a try. Let yourself write whatever, and see what happens.
Aw thanks. I've found that doing this while journaling has either great results, or I sneakily bury it in the trash before my brother takes it out haha. Well, I've only done that once. But I'm trying to learn how to enjoy the mundane, or at least find the beauty in it. Now...the question is, is there more benefit to telling a simple real-life story as it is, or embellishing it a little? I'll admit, I'm much more prone to the latter.
Thank you for your time. As a child I never had the chance to eat ice cream from a truck. So as an adult I still like to wonder down to the local pizza place and indulge the grandkids a treat, even the teens tag along after a long swim in Matt and Pegs pool even though it's been at our house since Matt passed. Thank you for your stories they bring happy memories.
Donna, Thank you for your comment! It makes me feel great that my pieces bring you happy memories. I didn't run into ice cream trucks as a kid, either, so they are still quite a thrill to me. I hope you and yours are enjoying the pool! I know you are. :)
As you know, I think about this all the time. Why am I doing this? Why am I writing? All of it sometimes feels like dropping pennies into a pond. Not much happens except you get to watch it sink. Then someone in town says to me, out of the blue, "I love your newsletter." And I think, "Oh, I'm writing it for them." And I read something that makes me smile or cry or see the world in a different way or feel a little less alone. Then I remember, right, I'm giving back to that big conversation. Because what if the person who wrote that amazing thing I'd just read had decided it wasn't worth it? That it was pointless? Rebecca Solnit said, (she might have been quoting Walter Benjamin) that writing is one of the most hopeful things we do. So I try to remember that.
I wonder if ALL writers spend as much time as we do wondering why we do it?! I like your simile of dropping pennies into a pond. And like you, much of the joy of writing is hearing that you've touched someone with your work, pleased them, heartened them, and/or made them think. And yes, reading... there's the thing. Feeling a little less alone. That's huge. I like your thought about the big conversation. And Rebecca Soinit's thought (or quote) that writing is hopeful. I'll take that.
I think most writers feel this way. Or if they don't, I'd like to know their secret. Teaching also feels like dropping pennies into a pond sometimes. There's that student in the back row whose facial expressions suggest that every moment in your class is excruciatingly painful. Then next semester or the next, they show up in your class again, even when it's not required, and you think, huh, I guess something happened inside their heads I might have been partially responsible for. But most of the time you go on faith that what you're doing matters. It is easier for me to have faith in my teaching than my writing. Not sure what that's about.
Hi, Ellen. I was just thinking yesterday that it had been awhile since your last post. I love this one. It brought back memories of the narrow street on the lower east side of Detroit where my world awareness began. Baseball in the back alley, ice skating on a neighborhood rink, walking to the corner store, lots of kids my age. Ice cream trucks and so much more. Thanks!
Thank you, Linda! I love hearing from you, and it means a lot to me that you enjoyed this. I love the memories you described, too. I want to hear more about that narrow street on the lower east side of Detroit.
Ellen,thank you ! This post lifted my mind out of the pit it was trying to fall into this morning! Your words have a special way to sooth and restore! Memories pop up and put a smile on my face! Never stop writing.
The way you take the commonalities of life and remind us of the preciousness of such events/happenings continues to bring great pleasure. Thank you for being you, and such a beautiful writer/communicator of these experiences.
I'm glad to hear that you took the opportunity to meet the ice cream truck. I have to admit that I have never done so, though your story has encouraged me to try it the next time I get the chance.
Mariann, I'm glad too! I don't know if ever really noticed the ice cream van in the neighborhood before. I definitely encourage you to try it. It stopped so close to your place! The Heath bar was excellent. Fresh and creamy, perfect on that hot day.
Well... yes... true. But this one I'm going to put in the category of human hard-wiring to notice sugar in the vicinity! ;) Humor (ha, humor, get it?!) me.
Thank you so much, Rich! I really appreciate your comment and your encouragement. As my friend Robyn said in a comment above, writing often feels like dropping a penny into a pond and watching it sink. But people's enjoyment means everything.
Loved it, especially the photo. When I was young, we had 2 ice cream trucks that came regularly, Good Humor and Spider, which were the same style as the one in the photo, but the Spider had a huge painting of a black spider on the sides. They had a string of sleigh bells that the driver would jingle that brought the kids out running. Spider gave out a card with the spider picture on it for each purchase, and 12 got you a free popsicle. I remember rummaging through my mom's top dresser drawer to find enough for a free one.
Thank you, Debra! That means a lot to me. I love your memories of the two ice cream trucks from your childhood. (Two!!) I can see them and can also see you rummaging through your mom's dresser drawer.
This is what I wish I had the "stuff" to write. You took a piece of your day, put it into words, and EVEN made it enjoyable, which to ME (considering what happens when I try to do this) is super impressive. I love ice cream trucks too.
Ketzia, I'll bet you do have the 'stuff' to write things like this. I had no 'great' idea when I started this essay. I'm super glad you and others have enjoyed it; that counts as a big win to me. But truly, all I did was what I said. Plucked one small event that pleased me out of a day and described it. (Using those active verbs and specific nouns I mentioned, plus veering away from adjectives and adverbs as much as I could.) Then I let my mind wander: What was I thinking about along with this event? I wasn't strict with myself: I wrote it all down. Give it a try. Let yourself write whatever, and see what happens.
Aw thanks. I've found that doing this while journaling has either great results, or I sneakily bury it in the trash before my brother takes it out haha. Well, I've only done that once. But I'm trying to learn how to enjoy the mundane, or at least find the beauty in it. Now...the question is, is there more benefit to telling a simple real-life story as it is, or embellishing it a little? I'll admit, I'm much more prone to the latter.
Thank you for your time. As a child I never had the chance to eat ice cream from a truck. So as an adult I still like to wonder down to the local pizza place and indulge the grandkids a treat, even the teens tag along after a long swim in Matt and Pegs pool even though it's been at our house since Matt passed. Thank you for your stories they bring happy memories.
Donna, Thank you for your comment! It makes me feel great that my pieces bring you happy memories. I didn't run into ice cream trucks as a kid, either, so they are still quite a thrill to me. I hope you and yours are enjoying the pool! I know you are. :)
As you know, I think about this all the time. Why am I doing this? Why am I writing? All of it sometimes feels like dropping pennies into a pond. Not much happens except you get to watch it sink. Then someone in town says to me, out of the blue, "I love your newsletter." And I think, "Oh, I'm writing it for them." And I read something that makes me smile or cry or see the world in a different way or feel a little less alone. Then I remember, right, I'm giving back to that big conversation. Because what if the person who wrote that amazing thing I'd just read had decided it wasn't worth it? That it was pointless? Rebecca Solnit said, (she might have been quoting Walter Benjamin) that writing is one of the most hopeful things we do. So I try to remember that.
Robyn,
I wonder if ALL writers spend as much time as we do wondering why we do it?! I like your simile of dropping pennies into a pond. And like you, much of the joy of writing is hearing that you've touched someone with your work, pleased them, heartened them, and/or made them think. And yes, reading... there's the thing. Feeling a little less alone. That's huge. I like your thought about the big conversation. And Rebecca Soinit's thought (or quote) that writing is hopeful. I'll take that.
I think most writers feel this way. Or if they don't, I'd like to know their secret. Teaching also feels like dropping pennies into a pond sometimes. There's that student in the back row whose facial expressions suggest that every moment in your class is excruciatingly painful. Then next semester or the next, they show up in your class again, even when it's not required, and you think, huh, I guess something happened inside their heads I might have been partially responsible for. But most of the time you go on faith that what you're doing matters. It is easier for me to have faith in my teaching than my writing. Not sure what that's about.
Ellen, thank you for this lovely story… just what I needed this morning!
Thank you, Carol! That makes me happy.
Oh thank you for letting this one fend for itself!! I fully enjoyed your musings!
Thank you, Nancy! It means the world to me when people enjoy my musings, which do often seem not all that interesting to me!
Hi, Ellen. I was just thinking yesterday that it had been awhile since your last post. I love this one. It brought back memories of the narrow street on the lower east side of Detroit where my world awareness began. Baseball in the back alley, ice skating on a neighborhood rink, walking to the corner store, lots of kids my age. Ice cream trucks and so much more. Thanks!
Thank you, Linda! I love hearing from you, and it means a lot to me that you enjoyed this. I love the memories you described, too. I want to hear more about that narrow street on the lower east side of Detroit.
Ellen,thank you ! This post lifted my mind out of the pit it was trying to fall into this morning! Your words have a special way to sooth and restore! Memories pop up and put a smile on my face! Never stop writing.
Jan, That means the world to me. Thank you so much for your comment, and for your encouragement.
"In the moment" writing, and living.
Makes me wonder if Ram Dass or Buddha could have worked in ice cream trucks to the teachings...
Thanks for this portend of summer coming.
Marilyn, I'll bet they could have! Thank you for your comment!
The way you take the commonalities of life and remind us of the preciousness of such events/happenings continues to bring great pleasure. Thank you for being you, and such a beautiful writer/communicator of these experiences.
That's really "Good Humor" 👍
I'm glad to hear that you took the opportunity to meet the ice cream truck. I have to admit that I have never done so, though your story has encouraged me to try it the next time I get the chance.
Mariann, I'm glad too! I don't know if ever really noticed the ice cream van in the neighborhood before. I definitely encourage you to try it. It stopped so close to your place! The Heath bar was excellent. Fresh and creamy, perfect on that hot day.
I really enjoyed your story but wondered why you weren't more engaging with the man's wife Teri as she truly attempted to engage you.
I was to intent on studying the treat menu! Not admirable, but true.
The human tragedy. We all put more stock in things then people.
Well... yes... true. But this one I'm going to put in the category of human hard-wiring to notice sugar in the vicinity! ;) Humor (ha, humor, get it?!) me.
Great story Ellen, it helps us all too to take a moment out of our lives and read your posts.
Thank you so much, Rich! I really appreciate your comment and your encouragement. As my friend Robyn said in a comment above, writing often feels like dropping a penny into a pond and watching it sink. But people's enjoyment means everything.
Loved it, especially the photo. When I was young, we had 2 ice cream trucks that came regularly, Good Humor and Spider, which were the same style as the one in the photo, but the Spider had a huge painting of a black spider on the sides. They had a string of sleigh bells that the driver would jingle that brought the kids out running. Spider gave out a card with the spider picture on it for each purchase, and 12 got you a free popsicle. I remember rummaging through my mom's top dresser drawer to find enough for a free one.
Thank you, Debra! That means a lot to me. I love your memories of the two ice cream trucks from your childhood. (Two!!) I can see them and can also see you rummaging through your mom's dresser drawer.