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While going through some old files recently, we came across a story that had long been tucked away. In 2008, Cheryl wrote an original story,  the “Big Green Chair.” It is a memory of her kindergarten year, so circa 1956. She was tasked with taking care of herself while her parents juggled work and family needs. Alone for countless hours each weekday, she filled the time with creative imaginings, reading the encyclopedia, and generally entertaining herself. She developed a  child’s sense of humor, while pretending and observing her surroundings, as well as exploring her inner world. The result was that she became self-sufficient, maybe even too much so at such a tender age. Following is that story exactly as she recounted those solitary days as a little girl on Burton Road in Middletown Ohio.

The Original Story

I was a “latchkey” kid before the phrase was coined, but with one important difference: I was never alone. My mom folded boxes at the local corrugated paper company. Because she wanted to be home with the family in the evenings and to see us off to school each morning, she opted for the night shift. In the mornings, after bowls of oatmeal, and lunches were packed, she faithfully stood at the door and we went on our way.

Each day I’d return home around mid-day. The school bus driver had Mom’s strict orders to watch me until I passed through our front door.  Once inside, I locked the door and stood silently, listening for the familiar sound of my mother’s soft and steady breathing. She was a “gentle” sleeper and it was nice to know she was there.

At times I watched cartoons, without sound, to be quiet. Sometimes I lay upside-down in my huge chair and extended my legs upward and pretended to walk on the ceiling, defying gravity. Other times I looked at pictures in the encyclopedia. Still other times, I napped, tuckered out from a hard morning at school.

Later, when my dad came home from the City Water Works, the house would buzz with noise and chatter. But in the meantime, many hours were whiled away in that chair, a giant gentle hand that held me when everyone was away.  There, nestled in the warmth of my big green chair, I learned about the world and about myself. Within the silence of my own thoughts I grew up imagining that anything was possible.

Written from memory, 1-30-08

You can also visit the our musical story page here, which was written and first published some months later in 2008.

Music

Audio Player

Lyrics

Half a day is passed at school
Then I’m home by noon, it’s time to play

Mama worked hard yesterday
Now she’s sleeping late
So I won’t make a sound

I’ll grab a bite to eat
Prop up both my feet
Settle back into the big green chair

After lunch I read a book
Switch on TV to look
Cartoons fill the screen

Throw my legs upon the back
Swing my hair this way and that
Now my whole world is turned upside down

Without a single care
You could always find me there
Nestled deep into my big green chair

I notice that I’m wearing mismatched socks
Volume D has pictures of each different kind of dog
My purple Kool-Aid stain moustache is finally wearing off
What a shame

Now it’s getting close to four
Soon bursting through the door
My brother comes in

With my sister close behind
They both laugh to find me there
Kind of dozing in my big green chair

Then Mama’s at the stove
And Daddy has just come home
Glad to see them, I jump from my green chair
All together we’re finally
Home again

Credits

From After All, track released September 1, 2008
Cheryl Martlage – Lyrics, vocals and production
Emerson Martlage – Music, guitar, vocals and production
Mr Toad’s San Francisco – Mastering
The Tibbs Family – Inspiration
Images – Gemini

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Today, an unexpected guest arrived at our home.

Doors wide open

On a beautiful sunny, cloudless June day in San Diego, something amazing happened. Following our lunch on the patio, we left the door wide open to let outside breezes in. Suddenly, there was a fluttering—a shadowy silhouette against the stark white ceiling. A lone monarch butterfly had decided to pay us a summery afternoon visit. She flitted silently, exploring every nook and cranny—first the bookcase, then the pictures and knick-knacks on the shelves. She floated across the room with intention, lightly touching the corner of the mantle, and then momentarily paused for a short rest on the back of a chair. 

Up close and personal

Cheryl was in the room at the time, reclining on the sofa—a post-lunch lull. She sighed when the butterfly gracefully swooped to clear the door frame, and then watched the antics as she worked her way across the room. Suddenly our unannounced guest landed directly in front of Cheryl’s face and seemed to be staring, unblinkingly at her. Wide-eyed, Cheryl lay nearly breathless, not wanting to make a sound or sudden move—butterflies are notoriously shy, you know. Could it be that this graceful visitor had a message to deliver? 

Have you ever had a monarch butterfly visit you in your home—in your face? It seems pretty rare, so we felt both curious and honored. We decided reflect on the possible meaning of this impromptu encounter. First of all, the monarch butterfly is among the most beautiful of all the butterflies. Their name, Monarch, Is fitting. If there was ever a monarchy over all butterflies, one of these beauties would surely be appointed Queen over the entire Kingdom. 

Subtle energy vibration

For millennia, cultures around the world have
recognized the grace and beauty of the butterfly. Their presence has been considered a sign that we, as humans, might be on our right path, and will most probably achieve our chosen goals. They are also viewed as delicate messengers announcing an impending rebirth or spiritual transformation—arriving to help us navigate through life or simply nudge us onward along the path already chosen. Some say that they’re drawn to particular people by a specific vibration, a subtle energy that emanates from their chosen companion.

Going for the Essence!

Our conclusion: this was a day of joyful reflection and celebration—perhaps it was a time for preparation, signaling some profound events about to unfold. As we continued talking about the brief visit, our thoughts, too, began to take flight.  Our conversation became more playful and lighthearted. Imaginations fluttered, then soared effortlessly through the air, floating high above a beautiful landscaped urban canyon. After a few minutes of ideas, dreams and exploration, we touched ground again. All of a sudden, the world seemed more open, inspiring, expansive and exciting!

Queen of the Royal Family

Fortunately, our butterfly-friend made an entrance that could not be ignored. We concluded that the message had, in fact, been received! We wonder, though, how many silent messengers fly close by, unnoticed every day. What clues have we missed by being too busy, too oblivious to our surroundings to note subtle changes? If nothing else, our colorful friend reminded us to watch more carefully, listen more intently and stay open, hopeful and engaged. She nudged us to pay closer attention to quiet information available to us. Surely, when it comes to magical insights and majestic influence, the Monarch definitely rules!  

Related Stories and Music

You might also enjoy a story called “Lavender, Bees and Butterflies” documenting nature’s party in the hills of Tuscany.

Another story called “Bee Major” reveals a little-known discovery about the song of the Bees.

And finally, a Musical Story called “Make Believe” might trigger your imagination and interest in tuning into the signs and messages from the Universe. 

Wishing well

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“Maybe we should collaborate! After Scott’s wonderful 10-day visit with us in Tuscany, that simple phrase about a collaboration appeared in an e-mail. Hmmm . . . our curiosity was piqued, so we tacked on a p.s. at the end of our response saying, “By the way, what is it you were thinking when you mentioned a ‘collaboration’?” A week later a message appeared in our mailbox, punctuated with an attachment, entitled Proposal. (more…)

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Admiration.

That’s what comes to mind when I think of someone living alone. I’m in awe of the courage it must take to say “I’m going to do this on my own, no matter what.” The underlying self-confidence is inspiring. My brief experiences are nothing in comparison, but they at least give me glimpses and insights into what it must take to be solo, as we say in Italy. (more…)

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Em here,

Excitement and sadness mix to form a rather strange emotional concoction—perhaps an unusual elixer that hopefully, magically brings out the best in life. Cheryl leaves today for a month—4 whole weeks! Duty calls sometimes, and since family is one of our priorities, she must go alone. That may not sound like a big deal or seem like a terribly long time, but it is for us. (more…)

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We realize that our approach to writing is unorthodox, but that is exactly what we want. It provides a way for us to literally write as partners on “one story.” We enjoy a “volley” process of writing, whereby we edit each other’s work until there is nothing left to change. Both computers are set up so that each of us has an inspiring place to work. (more…)

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I awoke this morning to a hauntingly beautiful dawn with yellow and salmon colored clouds hanging like lace over the blue-green ridge line of the mountains—nothing unusual as that is often the case in this valley. But today, there was something else stirring besides the sun. (more…)

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Yesterday morning Cheryl received a sketchy  message about a developing family situation. A more detailed email arrived a few hours later, followed by an explicit phone call that afternoon. Today we must go to the airport to explore options and make arrangements—one foot out the door, while the other foot remains grounded in this writing project, resisting as it is slowly dragged along. Previous commitments must wait. The jumble of possibilities are rationalized and thought-through. The initial gut reaction wins out and the decision is made—she must go! (more…)

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Yesterday afternoon was beautiful and sunny so we decided to work in the yard. The stone area around the fire pit was almost totally covered over by grass, so we began the difficult process of prying the overgrown grass up so we could see where the edges of the stone were, and then using pruning clippers to cut it back to the original shape. That sounds easy enough, but it depends on how many stones there are to trim. The answer to that one is: waaay too many. But we stayed with it until late afternoon when we were both sore and exhausted. (more…)