tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post1724875278149049255..comments2024-03-22T10:51:23.567-05:00Comments on Faith, Fiction, Friends: Little Woods and Big WoodsGlynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802111972232088511noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-30254210994476941222010-06-04T18:39:11.558-05:002010-06-04T18:39:11.558-05:00and there was a creek where we would float boats t...and there was a creek where we would float boats to imaginary places ... and walk on rocks to cross ... and occasionally fall inS. Etolehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01847206680320012887noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-34933934813733219082010-06-03T21:45:21.844-05:002010-06-03T21:45:21.844-05:00I just wrote down the name of this book, and I ad...I just wrote down the name of this book, and I added my name to your follower list.<br /><br />My nephew recently wrote about "the woods" behind the house where he grew up -- we all have our "woods" -- metaphorical and literal.<br /><br />Nice blog.<br /><br />:-)H. Gillhamhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16866823621648796335noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-15028003952067223482010-06-03T19:34:08.929-05:002010-06-03T19:34:08.929-05:00I love this trip down memory lane. Sounds like so...I love this trip down memory lane. Sounds like something out of the SandLot.<br /><br />And this is the third time I am hearing about L.L. Barkat's book....gotta go grab me a copy soon!~*Michelle*~https://www.blogger.com/profile/12973255141669832129noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-31294079149387220892010-06-03T09:57:25.780-05:002010-06-03T09:57:25.780-05:00I had some woods growing up too. That was where I ...I had some woods growing up too. That was where I kissed a girl. Where I rode a bike. Where I first spoke to God. I miss those woodsRed Letter Believershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18028834960447509536noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-4841994869144102392010-06-03T08:36:15.849-05:002010-06-03T08:36:15.849-05:00What a great post, Glynn. I think memories get a b...What a great post, Glynn. I think memories get a bad rap a lot of times. We're taught to let go and forget. Thanks for the reminder that there are plenty of things worth hanging onto and remembering.Billy Coffeyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08988347213957444145noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-11393405116780695392010-06-03T05:26:59.683-05:002010-06-03T05:26:59.683-05:00I loved this. The woods, big or little, are partly...I loved this. The woods, big or little, are partly what we make of them.<br /><br />But for me, they are also what they make of me. And so, if they are gone, something is lost. Fascinating how we can feel differently.<br /><br />What did the woods make of you? A man of imagination. What could another tract of woods make of you today? That is something yet to ponder...L.L. Barkathttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13333960142447144678noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-60760584307878408232010-06-02T23:02:45.627-05:002010-06-02T23:02:45.627-05:00Thanks for stirring my memories too Glynn. Your po...Thanks for stirring my memories too Glynn. Your poetic words ripple and wave like the prairie grasses of my memory.<br /><br />Lovely. Just lovely.Louise Gallagherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13522775693728655487noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-52398687416707098022010-06-02T19:49:16.171-05:002010-06-02T19:49:16.171-05:00I love how this book is making me remember...happy...I love how this book is making me remember...happy rememberings. That's pretty special for this former country girl. Isn't it funny how children find the wild? No matter if it be woods or some other secret place in the city, they know the magic in having a spot to run to.<br /><br />I enjoyed reading this, Glynn. Lovely memories. How time flies...Laurahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08263995875732832349noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-11038174565060128122010-06-02T19:10:59.429-05:002010-06-02T19:10:59.429-05:00I love the conclusion. It really isn't gone.
...I love the conclusion. It really isn't gone. <br /><br />And remind me when I go back to college to write a paper on your "polio" memories. <br /><br />You write so well. Very interesting!Duane Scotthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06869537581331071117noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-44245396724747728362010-06-02T19:06:55.973-05:002010-06-02T19:06:55.973-05:00"But I walk it, and I don't have an ounce..."But I walk it, and I don't have an ounce of regret that it's gone. Because it's not." Wonderful how you conclude. . . the deep understanding of what it means to carry "place" inside and forever with us.<br /><br />We had blackberry bushes (we'd pick bowls-full in summer) and lots of forested land behind our house, and my brothers learned to drive by taking an old jalopy into those woods and running over the rutted paths, getting stuck after the rain. And sometimes imaginations ran wild in those woods and they became something other. The woods and the people are all gone now, too; and they're not.Maureenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13290283101378474845noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-58128288717751136572010-06-02T18:42:53.882-05:002010-06-02T18:42:53.882-05:00i can just see
all the little hoodlums
in the wood...i can just see<br />all the little hoodlums<br />in the woods<br />bright eyes<br />and wearing<br />sweat beads<br />around your necksAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-38644241989929940502010-06-02T18:08:11.797-05:002010-06-02T18:08:11.797-05:00My husband and I were just talking yesterday about...My husband and I were just talking yesterday about how sad it is that we don't feel comfortable letting our kids play out of our sight. Granted, they're still a little young (under 6), but we know that when they're 8, 9, or 10 we will not be as willing as our parents were to let them roam around the neighborhood. <br />It sounds like you had a wonderful place to play, imagine and grow! Thanks for sharing this!Melissa_Raehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08378109828025866012noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791261486111154318.post-8085812020071127192010-06-02T17:34:15.761-05:002010-06-02T17:34:15.761-05:00Glynn,
Sounds like these woods live on in your &qu...Glynn,<br />Sounds like these woods live on in your "place" as you've mentioned before. <br /><br />Funny, my earliest memories of home include the woods behind our back yard and some large trees that fell there during a large tornado. Those woods are still there now after 35 years though.Jeff Jordanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09191820705109719146noreply@blogger.com