I have rarely been this excited to share a birthday gift with a loved one. Now you get a sneak peek early, so mum’s the word! The beauty too, is that my creation of this gift has gifted me moments of joyful interludes within this difficult world we are all part of. And while those moments don’t change the tough stuff, when we take them, they renew soul and spirit so we can move back into the world and continue to work for change. And a gift of writing is, we get to choose who we write for. I generally write for myself, truly. Even the work I send out in the world. I write for me, and know that my writing will also speak to others. No, not everyone. But some. And that’s enough. Yet, writing for someone you love is another special gift.

If you’ve read From First Breath to Last, you’ve glimpsed into our mom’s ability to write, her determinism and achievements. A blog I posted two years ago, The Gnome, begins with this:

"It wasn’t until I finalized my soon to release memoir, From First Breath to Last, when I fully appreciated how skilled and prolific Mom was as a writer. In this “soon to be released” memoir, I don’t mention the volumes of other writing she produced, most of it during her second to last decade. Mom compiled volumes for each of us five adult kids, and two volumes of work and stories for her much adored grandchildren."

I feel weepy yet appreciative as I thumb through the pages. Mom created sections unique to each grandchild including photos and journal memories. She too includes a section of shared stories. Without realizing it, while I have my own way of doing it, I suspect I too carry on this tradition. And although I had 25 cousins on my mom’s side, and our kids were a tight bunch of six, I’m wise enough to not try to predict if Emerson will be a sole grandkid or to be joined by others. I’m grateful for him and whoever else does or doesn’t come along.

As I thumbed through a copy of Mom’s volume of biographies and stories, I laughed out loud at this one. For, yes, I too documented this grand tale in My Music Man.

Are you intrigued by this story beginning and want to learn more about this magnificent trek on the Long Beach Peninsula? If you own a copy of My Music Man, check out chapter 11: Pirates. Or, listen to my own narration of the chapter from my audiobook. While the chapter expands into our own family history visiting the Peninsula, you can get directly to the story about the expedition pictured above 23:50 minutes in.

Mom also loved telling the cousins stories about Beverly Cleary, the adored author from Northeast Portland. In pages following the one pictured below, Mom adds tie-ins to other settlers, John McLoughlin, and our own great grandparents’ early Portland arrival. Although Beverly was born almost two decades before Mom, she too grew up in NE Portland. Mom read us and the grandkids the Ramona and Henry Huggins books. In Mom’s final year I reading aloud The Girl from Yamhill, which Mom adored. It is fun and sentimental to page through the things Mom decided to share with her own grandkids.

And so…

Back in 2024, I tasked myself to write a story for Emerson which is captured within the blog The Gnome. Since then I have occasionally told him tales, usually incorporating him into the action as Mom did with her own grands. (I think Mom had much more creativity than I with this). Our storytelling has often accompanied potty time for both of us. Before he was sitting on the potty, he’d sit next to me on on a stool during my numerous “tea-fed” toilet breaks. Now it’s sometimes tag team, he on his potty, me on mine. Mostly the stories have moved out of the bathroom, though.

I did know I wanted to write him a book for this third birthday. I got busy though, and didn’t rise to the task until a short three weeks prior to the big date.

What was my inspiration? Well….

And, as happens to me with each book I write, my final product was a bit different than what I first envisioned. For after all, if I was going to write about the logs in our rivers long ago, wouldn’t I also need to discuss how those logs might get into the river? And where they might go?

For my historian friends, that image above is more likely from BC. But it was better for my “kid-friendly” cover. Here’s one truly from Oregon (WA), thanks to our Oregon Historical Society.

So, in this book, I have a (mostly) Oregon-specific, child-friendly look at early logging and papermaking. But then, shouldn’t I also mention a bit about water and air pollution? And if I was going to do all this, he had to know about steamboats! And all those other craft we see today. Yes, I had fun! And, yes, I can hardly wait to share. I too know I will not be able to answer all the questions he’s likely to ask.

After Emerson and I have read our book, who knows. Just maybe it will become a blog or book for others to enjoy. Or maybe not. You never can tell with a good story. What are your favorite stories to tell those younger family members and friends around you?