# 81 I, Isabel Scheherazade, blogger, memoirist, think I’ve finished this first set of stories, and I explain through a few book characters and some anthropology from Africa via Pop a little bit more about why this is memoir and not just diary-keeping, and why being wide-awake helped, and, well, this is where I experience how hard it is to know when to END something!

by storytellerisabel

isabelinchair

You can see from all these stories, I take after my middle name: Scheherazade.

The other day I came across another character I’m like. Winnie the Pooh. Remember when he eats all Rabbit’s honey and can’t fit through Rabbit’s doorway; so Christopher Robin reads him stories until he gets thin enough to squeeze the rest of the way out? The read aloud sustains him through his “tight” time. (Like Pop’s nightly reads help Clyde, Sam, and me, BTW.)

Being wide-awake for the stories for this blog/memoir sustained me because it helped me sort things out. Here’s how I figure this:

The other night Pop read that part of Stuart Little by E.B. White where Stuart gets a job substitute teaching. On his first day he tosses out the lesson plans and asks the students How many of you knows what’s important?  That’s a great question, isn’t it? Well, my blog isn’t a write-down-everything-that’s-happened diary. I mean, it’s so not FACEBOOK.  I had to figure out what mattered. What was important. I had to be on the lookout for the stories that would make a sound in my heart even when I’m 99.

Scheherazade, Winnie–these connections fit–but today Pop gave me another handle.

He says I’m the “geriot” of the household.  (Gee-roh is how you pronounce it.)

A geriot is the carrier of the important tales. In Africa the geriot gathers the stories and remembers all the details, no matter how tiny. The geriot’s job? Pass it on.

I agree with Pop. I am sort of a geriot.

And I’ve got tons more stories.  I’m thinking that I’ll just keep on the lookout and grab them.

Remember that box Mimi and I found in the attic? There was this little book in there, too. I wrote it when I was in kindergarten, or maybe before. Lots of scribbles and every once in a while some strings of letters. But on the last page was this:

2Bkntnud.

To be continued? Get it?

So that’s what I’m putting at the end of this set of stories:

To be continued. 

 

Isabel Scheherazade 

 

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