Webster Got it Wrong

I got my colored pencils out this week and brought back a favorite hobby: doodling. It's been a while since I've been at it, but I'm a big fan of filling white space with little sketches, sometimes to the dismay of some of my teachers. You'd be right to assume I have a liberal policy on doodling in my own classroom. It often begins as a squiggle or a circle, but it grows into flowers, trees, the sun, and the moon. I'll plant a garden or arrange an imaginary living room with a sofa and soft chairs and pillows. There was a long period when I filled spiral sketchbooks with girls, not unlike the young and free girl I was then, with long hair and sun dresses, bare feet, and fruit. That's right, a lot of those girls danced with fruit, juggled fruit, and baskets overflowed with a healthy harvest. Of course, vegetables joined in, too. One of my favorites was the girl who ran with asparagus. She brandished it like a sword as she hopped over rolling, green hills.

My sister is pregnant, due at the end of April, and I'm planning her baby shower. I designed the invitation that now glows with the floral chandelier she installed in her little girl's room; a cradle rocks beneath sprouting pink petunias.

doodle  (ˈduːd ə l)

1. to draw or scribble idly: He doodled during the whole lecture. 2. to waste (time) in aimless or foolish activity. I can't help but notice the negative connotation of the word doodle and frankly, I disagree. Call me a fool, but it sure doesn't feel idle to me.