Laurie Klein, Scribe

immerse in God, emerge refreshed

  • About
  • Books
  • Blog
    • Small Wonders
    • Soul Mimosas
    • Springboards
    • Wellsprings
    • BiblioDiva
  • Reveries
  • Links
  • Contact
  • Press Kit
  • Playlist

Whistle Pig

by Laurie Klein 28 Chiming In

May’s winding down. I’ve launched a passel of heart-wrung essays and poems into cyberspace and now await editors’ yeas or nays. Waiting. Waiting. Yes, I get twitchy.

“Good Spirit,” I prayed this morning, “have your way. And please, send a blog idea.”

A marmot arrived.

In our front yard.

  • Think upsized squirrel, with teeth that keep growing
  • Think savvy trickster with a droll silhouette
  • Intrepid tunneller / whistler / survivor of storms

Whistle Pig photo-op

Turns out these pudgier cousins to groundhogs and woodchucks arise, in May, from six months of hibernation. Seeking a mate.

Well, this one’s gonna be lonesome. After 32 years in our cedar house on the hill, this is our first visitation.

In nearby Spokane, there are colonies of them, downtown, near the river. Out here? Never.

The nickname whistle pig (for the distinctive warning call) feels undignified for an animal viewed as a wisdom keeper by some Native American tribes. Some Africans view them as agents of healing.

Christians feature them in their artwork and literature; they also malign them as symbols of gluttony.

(Gulp. While researching the critters, I binge-ate four lunch bag servings of Cheetos today.)

So. Perhaps, a heaven-sent warning?

BUT THIS . . . stopped me:

An encounter with a marmot can be read
as a sign of forthcoming assistance
in a big endeavor.

Fanciful? Perhaps. But I’m on the cusp of submitting a full-length manuscript of poems to a most excellent editor. Except . . . I’ve stalled out. Several hundred hours have gone into this project already over the past year. If the publisher accepts it, then there’s the expected undertaking of marketing and publicity—undertaking, as in engaging with certain death. I am abysmal at business.

Since the marmot feels “sent,” might this be a good-humored nudge to . . . finish up already, and hit “Send”?

“The Marmot is also a reminder that we should never give up on our dreams and goals,” writes Andy Willis, “no matter how difficult they may seem.”

Now that I can take on board. How about you? Can I join you in prayer for your current undertaking?

lauriekleinscribe logo

How do you cope with looming expectations when you feel inadequate for the task? I could really use help on this. And prayer!

P.S. Speaking of fanciful, here’s a poem I wrote several years ago, from a marmot’s point of view.

Whistle Pig Polka Beneath the Monroe Street Bridge

My fellow tunnel junkie, old twinkle-toes Hans,
warms up in our downtown digs. Too bad
Spokane’s first wooden bridge turned itself
into cinders, sifting across the gorge. These days
reinforced concrete, blithe as a skipped stone,
curves across the river like marmot ears. All-day
roar of the waves plus traffic—who hears the small
footfalls, dancing across our triple arch stage
long as 448 of us, laid out, snout to tail?

Ask any oompah-loving rodent playing the tuba,
or mini-concertina (wheezing beneath the cars
with Bohemian flair): hop-steps, close-steps,
claw-foot twirl—duple time fires the blood!
As to those chewed car wires, and the occasional
neighborhood landscape binge, Hans decrees
we all carb load. Half our lives are spent
dreaming up choreography during hibernation.
Some of us want to believe a bridge is forever.

Appeared in Spokane Writes, 2017

Whistle Pig on the Run
Dreamer’s Action Capture

Feature Photo by Eli Allan on Unsplash

Classic pose with log Photo by Miguel Teirlinck on Unsplash

“On the run,” courtesy of Dreamer, who first spotted our guest

 

Filed Under: Immersions Tagged With: bridge, expectations, gluttony, hope, marmot, undertaking, visitation, whistle pig May 22, 2023

Exclamation Points in a Story, a Season, a Life

by Laurie Klein 22 Chiming In

Slight as a cat’s eyelash,
one black mark
graces the page,
piquing my curiosity. O
how it pulses, as if
rendered in neon—
this exclamation point
humans assigned
to an angel,
in the gospel of Luke.

Printers call these marks gaspers, screamers, startlers. Many editors view them as lazy shortcuts. Or overkill. “Never expect punctuation to animate flabby prose.”

As a writer, this is my world. Render passion, yes; but ration those exclamation points. Say, one every six months. (Or every book and a half, as Elmore Leonard advises.)

In the NIV translation, Gabriel gets one—but not where we might expect it.

“Greetings,” he says.

This salutation alone—from a celestial being—seems worthy of emphasis. However, rigorous scholars inserted a comma, then continued the sentence: “. . . you who are highly favored!”

For Mary, a knee-quaking moment.

For you and me, millennia later,
it’s breathtaking,
soul-shaking,
hope-making news.

That’s because highly favored means “to make graceful, to endow with grace.”

Mary embodied in-the-moment receptiveness to God.

As we welcome God, we too become highly favored, our lives affirmed. Transformed. Made grace-full.

Exclamation points, over time . . .

First used in English in the 15th century, they were considered “notes or signs of admiration,” perhaps from the Latin root for wonderment.

In the Greek word for joy, io, the “i” is written above the “o.” The forerunner, perhaps?

In our day exclamation points proliferate in online communications and may indicate surprise, excitement, anger, and other strong emotions. Peruse Luke (in the NIV version) and you’ll find them accentuating promises, warnings, complaints, interjections, exhortations, chastisements, praises, and pleas.

I counted 36 in all—again, not always where I expected them. Surprisingly, the humble period appears when Jesus cleanses the temple. And when the entire heavenly host sings “Glory to God in the highest.”

To this day, consulting scholars, clergy, and other professionals continue to translate the Bible. They peer into, and pore over, the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek manuscripts.

They parse grammar. Argue semantics. Assign emphasis.

No matter how we punctuate
this story, older than our world
yet still fresh as the rain,
how radically Love arrives, to upend,
upset, even overturn
our sense of self,
our hopes, and
our flawed expectations.

Where are the living exclamation points appearing in your life this month? Wonderment is contagious. I hope you’ll share one . . .

lauriekleinscribe logo

You might also enjoy the Smithsonian’s take on the exclamation mark

And speaking of strong emotions: Holidays, Saying Yes to Unexpected Gifts!

There’s even a blog about them: Excessive Exclamation!!

“Yes” Photo: John Tyson on Unsplash.

 

 

 

 

 

Filed Under: Immersions Tagged With: exclamation points, expectations, gaspers/screamers/startlers, grace, highly favored, yes December 17, 2019

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • RSS

Subscribe

Please enter your email address below to receive emails from Laurie twice a month.

Your information is safe with me. I will never spam you. Read my privacy policy here.

Hi, I’m Laurie.

  • Scribe for wonder
  • Contemplative author/artist
  • Reader/performer/speaker
  • Imagination maven
  • Biblio*Diva
  • Expert on chocolate raisins
  • Click here to read more.

House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life

House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life
Buy This Book Online
Buy from Amazon
House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life
Buy now!

Where the Sky Opens, a Partial Cosmography

Where the Sky Opens, a Partial Cosmography
Buy This Book Online
Buy from Amazon
Where the Sky Opens, a Partial Cosmography
Buy now!

Recent Posts

  • Runaway
  • Wholehearted Lent
  • Listening to You Breathe
  • Epiphany
  • Black Sheep: Between Noels, Part IV

Categories

  • BiblioDiva
  • Immersions
  • Small Wonders
  • Soul Mimosas
  • Springboards
  • Wellsprings

Tags

adoption adventure attention Beauty blessing Blues change chosen contemplative delight disappointment disconnect double-take emergence feast Gift grace gratitude hope joy largesse light longing love Magi music nest pain peace pearls possibility prayer Risk shelf life soundings space star surrender Time transformation truth waiting wonder worry yes

Copyright © 2025 Laurie Klein, Scribe Laurie Klein, Scribe All Rights Reserved Laurie Klein, Scribe Privacy Policy