Deirdre’s wood chopping & two generations of memoirs

Hello lovely human 👋🏼

This week I had the delightful experience of welcoming a new student to my memoir course, who turned out to be the daughter of one of the first people I ever wrote a memoir for. I remember writing about her childhood.

She said her mother’s book had been a “Godsend”, mentioning a health issue that had been passed from generation to generation, and how the book helped her explain her condition to  doctors.

I love that the stories of her mother’s life could help her with her life today. I’m still buzzing from that.

Here’s another beautiful story from a memoir writer’s life – about chopping wood. What a picture it paints. I hope Deidre Lusby’s children will one day read her story and smile:

Wood chopping by Deirdre Lusby

On my own for several days at a time, while my husband traveled for work, one of my least enjoyed activities was woodchopping. With small children to occupy or keep within sight, this became a somewhat fraught chore. One day, leaving the three year old inside, absorbed in a book, and an active two year old strapped into the pushchair to accompany me, I ventured to the woodpile. The intention was to decimate several large chunks of wood into wedges small enough for the firebox of the coal range.  

“I can do this” I said to myself, and with a reminder of “Girls can do anything” I proceeded to swing the axe and hope for accuracy.  

“Hit!  Hit!  Miss!  Miss!  Miss!  Miss! the toddler hollered from the pushchair. To begin with I found his scoring amusing but as the pile of chopped pieces remained alarmingly small, my enthusiasm dwindled. Despite the frost remaining in the shaded eaves of the woodshed, my efforts caused me to grow increasingly warm, adding to the frustration of my imprecise chopping.. 

The chore reached an abrupt end when a sharp chip of wood flew into the pushchair and landed just below the scorekeeper’s neck, fortunately encased in a thick polo necked jersey. “Enough!” I declared and gathered the paltry pile of chopped pieces to lug to the kitchen woodbox. “That will do for today and the rest can wait”, concluding that a lesson in woodchopping and a sharpened axe would be added to my husband’s To Do list on his return.

I could feel the fraughtness of trying to chop wood while keeping an eye on two little ones. I could hear her two year old’s commentary, and imagine the scare of the chip of wood landing on her. And Deirdre’s decision to pack it in for the day made me smile too, it seemed wise.

It’s interesting isn’t it, to think that these everyday parts of our lives might one day educate or entertain our families.

Keep writing,

Charlotte x

PS you are warmly invited to join my memoir writing course, and if you’d like to have a chat about whether it would be a good fit for you, let’s book in for a phone call. Just reply to this email.

PPS For those in the top of the South Island, I have two year long courses coming up, you can click on the links below to join up, or reply to this email.

Write Your Memoir in One Year – Nelson

Write Your Memoir in One year – Golden Bay.