Pay Dirt and BSG

[Muffit]

Why do children do the things they do? Perhaps we might better ask, why do we stop being children at all. It is a terrible thing, the death of a child. So much is lost. So much that might have been. But oughtn’t we mourn the death of the child inside each of us, when the fullness of time buries our innocence in a tiny grave? Is growing up so very important, that we never miss the tender heart we once felt beat within us, or glistening eyes that sparkled with simple wonder, now glazed with Knowledge’s pain? Windows once so clear our soul danced within them, till Time’s arthritic coda bid it hide, a sedentary widow.

There are some strange entries in my baby book, things you might find odd. But to a child they must have been truly special, like a prom to a teen once thought plain. It says there passed a time when I preferred the taste of earth to Mom’s aromatic cuisine. A time when, spoon in hand, I ventured to a certain spot in the yard, and relished eating – dirt. Funny thing, I remember. The taste is still on my tongue, the smell still in my head; warm black earth (clean earth, from a special place), savory and satisfying. My mom and doctors both at a loss, they thought perhaps it was something lacking in my diet. And prescribed delicious chocolate vitamins to quell my odd desire. But I would have none of it; and Mom ate them instead. The entry in the book makes my new family laugh still; I taught my infant brother to eat it as well.

Why is TOS so important to me? Why do I still crave it so? It is a taste unlike any other in the world, a moment frozen in time where faith and hope and characters of warmth dance in my mind still. Something I cannot find on this new plate we call the mini. A need yet to be fulfilled. What I cannot find inside where knife and spoon and kerchief bid me eat conformity.

And so I take my spoon in hand and venture still, outside where waits the saporific delicacy my heart, still young, still craves. My spoon is now a pen, my meal a dream. But somewhere in this bowed and graying frame, each passing day a drop of innocence and hope disturbs an inner pool, where faith’s reflection plays a trick of light and shadow, BSG as young and true as this one’s heart remembers it.

Affectionately and respectfully,
Muffit

Well said, Muffit.

As one who works with kids and teens all the time, we adults are definitely lacking something.

For those of us who were kids when BG-TOS came out, it adds to special memories of a special time. Maybe that's why Ron Moore's "very adult" reimagining of BG is such a
head-shaker to us. Crass, hopeless, unlikable characters having lots of sex appeals to an adult audience.

People often coin the phrase "The Prime of Life" to describe that period in a person's life from late 20's to early 40's. I often think it could br redefined to ages 8-12, give or take a few years. AT least for me and my life, I look at it that way. Kids rule!

[BST]

Muffit,

As always, your stories give me pause, to reflect on those long-ago days of innocence. Your stories touch my soul in a way that very few others have.



BST

[Muffit]

Hi ViperTech! Thank you for your kind words and for reading! I'm glad you too miss those brief days when time seemed to stand still. I think it is so neat you work with kids. What better way to say how well you remember being one.

BST, thank you once again for such kindness. When someone such as you responds so positively to my thoughts, it truly makes me feel a part of the warmth that is the best part of this world.

Thank you both so much!
Affectionately,
Muffit

[Dawg]

Mind if I join the lovefest?

Always wonderful, Muffit. Always wonderful. I echo what BSG said.




I am
Dawg

[Rowan]

Me too Me too
Muffit, I can see what BST means, you are a very poetic and eloquent writer! I had to read it a couple of times because I was enjoying the meter and sound of the words in my head. For me BSG was very special because it provided me with an escape from the reality of my life I was 14 1/2 when it came out going through the angst of teenage hood, and all that that entails. Despite all the horrors I've seen and the difficulties I've lived through I still retain a lot of that wide eyed wonder from my earliest youth and much to the chagrin of many friends and aquaintacnes do not hesitate to be the silliest of girls

thanks for sharing your essay

[Muffit]

Thanks so much Dawg!

And thank you Gaelen! Thank you so much for reading and your kind reply.

Affectionately,
Muffit

[bsg1fan1975]

We all still have a bit of the child in us. Mine just tends to come out more than others I know.

[braxiss]

so true, why do we grow up?????
and why do forget how much fun life is????

thanks muffit

[amberstar]

Beautiful Muffit!


Tos has touched our hearts in a way that only we understand, you have a gift that gives our feelings a voice.
Thank you Muffit

Amber

[repcisg]

Beautiful Muffit, just beautiful. You have a poets soul, don't ever stop writing, please.

[Muffit]

Thank you so much, Bsg, Braxiss, Amberstar and Repcisg!

And one of the nicest things about staying a child is, my eyes still glisten when I hear from each of you...

[shiningstar]

Originally Posted by Muffit

Why do children do the things they do? Perhaps we might better ask, why do we stop being children at all. It is a terrible thing, the death of a child. So much is lost. So much that might have been. But oughtn’t we mourn the death of the child inside each of us, when the fullness of time buries our innocence in a tiny grave? Is growing up so very important, that we never miss the tender heart we once felt beat within us, or glistening eyes that sparkled with simple wonder, now glazed with Knowledge’s pain? Windows once so clear our soul danced within them, till Time’s arthritic coda bid it hide, a sedentary widow.

There are some strange entries in my baby book, things you might find odd. But to a child they must have been truly special, like a prom to a teen once thought plain. It says there passed a time when I preferred the taste of earth to Mom’s aromatic cuisine. A time when, spoon in hand, I ventured to a certain spot in the yard, and relished eating – dirt. Funny thing, I remember. The taste is still on my tongue, the smell still in my head; warm black earth (clean earth, from a special place), savory and satisfying. My mom and doctors both at a loss, they thought perhaps it was something lacking in my diet. And prescribed delicious chocolate vitamins to quell my odd desire. But I would have none of it; and Mom ate them instead. The entry in the book makes my new family laugh still; I taught my infant brother to eat it as well.

Why is TOS so important to me? Why do I still crave it so? It is a taste unlike any other in the world, a moment frozen in time where faith and hope and characters of warmth dance in my mind still. Something I cannot find on this new plate we call the mini. A need yet to be fulfilled. What I cannot find inside where knife and spoon and kerchief bid me eat conformity.

And so I take my spoon in hand and venture still, outside where waits the saporific delicacy my heart, still young, still craves. My spoon is now a pen, my meal a dream. But somewhere in this bowed and graying frame, each passing day a drop of innocence and hope disturbs an inner pool, where faith’s reflection plays a trick of light and shadow, BSG as young and true as this one’s heart remembers it.

Affectionately and respectfully,
Muffit

Well said Muffit. In a since I was never really 'allowed' to be a child.
If I so much as breathed the wrong way I paid for it dearly. You might
say that through my own children ...............I am making up for lost time

For I AM allowing them to grow in their own TIME and their own PACE
{And I for one am enjoying the RIDE they're taking me on }

[Muffit]

I am so glad you can at last live your childhood thru your own children, Shiningstar. That is the magic of having children; a chance to live thru their eyes the wonder of being young again. And in that time, we become the taught rather than the teacher, learning what it is to be a living, breathing smile.


Muffit

[shiningstar]

Originally Posted by Muffit

I am so glad you can at last live your childhood thru your own children, Shiningstar. That is the magic of having children; a chance to live thru their eyes the wonder of being young again. And in that time, we become the taught rather than the teacher, learning what it is to be a living, breathing smile.


Muffit

THey are the best of my life (And NOT just because they love TOS BSG78 as
much as I do )