Notes from the Editor: It Barks and Leaves, But Doesn't Bite

A monster lurches forward. Its outline looks strangely familiar--I know I have met similar creatures before. Perhaps it is a cousin of the ones in my memory. It is large, intimidating, insistently demanding of attention--and, despite appearances, innocuous. It arrives at the most inconvenient times, and it will not go away until I have clothed it, fed it, taken it for a walk, given it some grammar lessons, visited the neighbors with it to help socialize it, and sung it to sleep with a lullaby.

Pretty soon, I realize what it is: another issue of Talking Leaves. There are worse monsters to be shadowed by. I'm not sure how I ended up in charge of this one--I think it was part of a group adoption plan, and some of the co-parents were soon adopted by other monsters. Luckily a number of other people do take an interest in it, so I am not entirely alone. But ultimately, this monster slows to a standstill if I am not leading it forward--and for monsters, a prolonged standstill is not an option. Sometimes it really, really needs to pee. If I don't take it out, it will pee all over my floor.

Taking care of a series of monsters also has its rewards. I meet other monster-lovers, who see their value and agree to help groom them or take them to the movies or the vet. I hear that these monsters have had the most unexpected effects on some people who have encountered them. When immersed in the day-to-day tasks of monster-care, I forget that monsters can make a positive difference in the world. Ultimately, every bit of attention lavished on a monster can pay itself back many times. Monsters can change the world.

I am hoping that this monster and its cousins are becoming more independent and self-sufficient, and that I can release some of my responsibilities. Each monster like this one needs uncles, aunts, surrogate parents, mentors, guides. Someone needs to enroll it in business school, sell its services to the monster-deficient, or at least teach it how to promote itself. Someone needs to help it rent out the unused rooms in its lair.

It takes a village to raise a monster. Right now, the village raising this monster is a little overextended, and many of the co-parenting roles could stand to be fleshed out some. If you would like to be part of that village (which need not entail living at Lost Valley--some of our most dedicated copy-editors and proofreaders, for example, live off-site), please contact me. Especially in the "business" arena--and in others as well--an eager monster may be waiting to hear from you.

I've been trying to put this particular monster to bed in the midst of many other activities. A warm, dry winter and early spring have set the garden season into high gear well before what used to be considered normal. Our ever-evolving community and nonprofit have continued to stimulate (if not absolutely require) an elevated level of involvement from all of us. At any moment, it seems as if there are five or ten important activities I could be engaged in. When the horses are pulling logs out of the woods as part of our sustainable forestry project, when the garden weeds are growing and the vegetables are asking to be harvested, when the sun is shining and new songbirds arrive every day, when intriguing workshops are being planned or held here, when my email box is overflowing, and when the "Lost Valley Crickets" are getting ready to jam--it is very difficult to decide that putting together a magazine is the most important thing for me to do. But I know what happens when a monster pees on my floor. And I believe in this monster. For now, I need to help it get out into the world.

Establishing the article order for this issue presented particular challenges. I am indebted to Hannah McCargar and other readers for helping to create some semblance of organization to what follows.

Every article relates in some way to the theme of "Family Values," but since our theme is so slippery, it's no surprise that the path from one piece to another is slippery as well. Each contribution does directly relate to what precedes and follows it; however, discerning the nature of these relationships may be accomplished more effectively through non-logical than through logical analysis.

We start by looking at family values among non-human creatures, and how these might relate to our own family values. We get into the nitty-gritty of several individuals' experience of family, including both traditional and nontraditional approaches. We examine how family values play out in the larger social and political spheres, and witness different, equally passionate responses to the times we live in. We see how different families approach the integration of childrearing with the rest of life. And we hear about what's valued by various musicians within the extended Talking Leaves/Lost Valley family.

Amidst all the hustle, bustle, and demands of monster-care, I never did get around to writing an article on family values myself. There was too much I wanted to write on the subject. And after a certain number of words juggled around on this screen, everything started to blend together. I found it far more important to send birthday presents to my brother, nephew, and mother, attend community meetings, stay in touch with friends, contact potential garden interns, get this year's crops started, welcome the return of spring birds, and watch new buds become leaves and flowers than to write a treatise on family values. Hopefully this does not mean that I have none.

This monster becomes much easier to deal with when it is well-fed by many people. Please send your written, artistic, and monetary contributions. Thank you!