Liz: Dysfunctionality of Wuth. Hts & poetry

Hi everyone!
I have just caught up on a bunch of entries. It was fun! I love reading what you all write! I have a rare moment to post a blog . . . Pat is out helping his brother Chad move some things into his new apartment, and the children are in bed. It is 9:30pm and I am very tired but I need to be up sitting near Claire's room til she goes to sleep. You know how it is!
I absolutely loved Rae's post with the four generations of poems! That is wonderful! I especially loved Grandma's. What a great idea to do that, Rae.
I wanted to say something about the dysfunctionality of Wuthering Heights. I remember thinking that it was a strange story; I think it read it in 97 or 98 at BYU. Right now I am actually reading A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolfe. I'd always wanted to read it and it just seemed like a good time. Well, Virginia has theories on the writing of the Bronte sisters and of women in that era. She basically says that because women were treated as inferior and had such fewer opportunities than men, and more specifically because they were scorned for writing anything or thinking that they could possibly have anything to contribute that way, the writing of women in that time is "crippled." She says that their minds were not free to write uninhibited. I find a lot of logic in that. Surely that can't always be the case, but there were definitely fewer women writers in that era, and I can't help thinking that if I had lived then and had a tendency, urge, and desire to write and love words, I would probably hide it and not discover the full gift because of the way others around me would treat me for it--or simply because the opportunities to write would not exist like they do for me today.
So I am happy that I live now!! :)
I also wanted to say that I am very excited about the March theme! I am going to enter a writing contest in May, and I wrote a poem to enter about a week ago. (I suppose I could share it--maybe in another post) Also, I just made up some new lyrics (kind of poetry, right?) to Take Me Out to the Ballgame. I'll share them here, although Rae, Abby, and Mim have already seen them:
(this is about my sweet baby Andrew, (7 1/2 months old) who hates green beans.)
Take me out of my highchair!
I'm so tired I could cry!
I don't want to be here anymore;
I just wanted to crawl on the floor
And it's oh-so-boring in here, Mom,
This is not any fun!
I ate one-two-three bites of green beans
And now I'm DONE!

I am not sure what I will choose for March yet but there are tons of options. Thanks for the ideas, and thanks everyone for this neat blog. I love you all!!
LIZ