Mainely Write

I have been making time for myself lately, getting some physical health issues taken care of, writing each day (thank you for getting me going SOL), and making jewelry. Last night I went to a jewelry making class at a local bead store. I've really wanted to learn how to do wire wrapping, so when they offered classes, I signed up for them all! I made a sterling silver ring on the first lesson, silver earrings on the second lesson and then a wrapped stone "donut" pendant last night. I was pretty pleased with the finished piece. It's been relaxing to sit with others and try something new not related to school and chat about things other than school.  I was amazed that at the past meeting 4 out of 7 people there were teachers.  It only came up in passing, and we quickly let go of it.  It didn't seem to be something we wanted to "be" just then.  We were trying out our other "being".  It was kind of like the feeling of wearing a mask, and realizi

I looked up yesterday afternoon as I got into my car.  Stunning cirrus clouds were wispy over my head.  I grabbed my phone and snapped picture after picture.  I wanted to be sure they would look as good 2D as they did in 3D. They made me hunger for more clouds.  As I went over the Kennebec River I could see that the clouds from there were also prime candidates for a photo shoot.  However, stopping in traffic wasn't an option, and neither was parking and walking back with this cast on my foot.  So I kept driving, all the while thinking "Rats, I want those clouds".  But as I got off that 4 lane bridge and started for the next narrow bridge to the islands, "what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a big old osprey on a wire quite near."  I had to cross that bridge five times before I could avoid traffic and stop the car on the bridge and get a picture.  As I pulled away after getting the shot, I saw that the car ahead of me was making a u-turn like I did, and

My mind Mumbles And stumbles Windywhirling Weedytumbling Until I stand Closed eyes Listening Silenced You have to be quiet When the wind talks. I have now further edited.  Although I wanted the last line to be the one in my previous post, I just didn't like it and it nagged at me until I worked it out.  Sorry, I just had to go back and repost this with the edited poem below.  Now I'll be able to sleep.  Aaah! My mind mumbles and stumbles windywhirling weedytumbling until I stand eyes closed listening silenced quiet when the wind Talks.

I remember before we built our house here, we'd come out and stand on the land.  We'd pace off where we wanted our livingroom.  We climbed trees to see what we would be able to see from our windows.  And we would stand together arm in arm listening to the wind out here.  It was the only sound we could hear. When I listen to the wind, I can imagine that we are the only people out here. It whistles and shushes through the tree tops.  It is my silencer. You have to be quiet when the wind talks.  OR I remember before we built our house here, we'd come out and stand on the land.  We'd pace off where we wanted our livingroom.  We climbed trees to see what we would be able to see from our windows.  And we would stand together arm in arm listening to the wind out here.  It was the only sound we could hear, except for the occasional hum of tires crossing the "singing bridge" about a mile down the road.  It would make a low humming sound as you crossed th

Anticipating a sweet morning's meeting with Yet unheard laughter I'm experimenting with writing a seriously big thought I have using seriously few words in a traditional haiku. I cannot share with you my meaning. You will have to draw your own meaning from it.

Sometimes I think I have DDD.  I swear if there are two directions to choose from I do not have a 50/50 chance of choosing the right way.  I remember only being aware of my Directional Deficit Disorder after I got married.  Newly married and in a new town far from our childhood areas, I remember my husband experimenting with new routes to get to our new home. Whenever we went out some where he’d take me home a new way.  I don’t think I quite knew where we lived until we’d been there a few years. After that I realized that if I took a wrong turn on my way to a new place, that I was doomed to repeat the wrong turn a couple more times.  I’d get to the familiar corner and go, “yes, yes, I’ve seen this corner before, and I turn here,” only to find a couple hundred yards into it, that I’d been duped again by my DDD.  So of course now I’d memorized the wrong turn again for my next trip out. I’ve been on roads that I’ve never had a problem with before, but in the dark everything looks

Just to clarify and be absolutely correct in my misunderstanding and now total understanding, I again searched out the sounds of a Phoebe and a Chickadee on my computer this morning.  At the sound of the Chickadee the dog got up and looked around with concern.  Glanced at me, and when I told her it was okay, she lay down again at my feet and sighed. Then I played the Phoebe sound.  The cat came striding through the kitchen, past me and directly to the sliding glass doors.  There he looked out in all directions, ignored my telling him it was okay, and proceeded to sit and watch.  He didn't believe me. Make no mistake, live birds were used in the making of those audio files. Earlier this morning, when I stepped out onto the porch I heard the "unmistakable sounds" of Phoebes chatting.  I always feel sad when I hear one call and no one replies!  One bird was fairly close to the house, calling out "phee-bee", and then the fainter return call followed from the opp

This morning I went out on the front porch and caught the sounds of geese...no, wait...not geese, turkeys!  Funny how I was ready to hear geese and my foggy early morning brain was carrying on watching the dog and hearing what it thought it was supposed to hear down in the Back River.  My brain snapped to attention though when it realized that was not the sound of geese, but of the turkeys.  I have neither seen nor heard from them since fall.  It's exciting to know that they will soon be strutting across the yard again with their brood.  Every time I see them all puffed out, I think how disappointed the Pilgrims must have been with their first turkey.  "Wow, look at the size of that bird!"  And then they deflate. About an hour later,  just as I was heading out the door for work, I saw under the bird feeder a little red squirrel and a big gray squirrel together eating bird leftovers.  For some reason we don't have squirrels out here, red or gray.  We are in the middle

I like my Blue Wordle.  It's intriguing. I don't know what started this today.  Maybe the Shades of Green the kids did sparked it, along with noticing how the ads relate to the day's topic.  I wondered what would come up if I just manipulated my words on the page.  Of course, just writing green has now altered how the page is perceived.  The words we use are interpreted by others.  Sometimes the perception has little to do with what you meant.  But that's how it goes.  Hmm. Maybe that's what started this. Bleu Indigo Sapphire Bluetooth  Periwinkle Blue screen  Blue ribbon Turning blue Ol' blue eyes  Sky blue pink Deep blue sea Black and blue Alice blue gown Talk a blue streak Blue skies shining on me Something borrowed something blue Don't step on my blue suede shoes She wore blue velvet Singing the blues Blue on blue Feeling blue Robin egg Blueberry Turquoise Blue bird Jet Blue Navy Blae

An assembly broke the news.  Well, kind of.  They saw me get flowers. "Why did you get the flowers?" "I'm retiring." "Are you retarding?" "No, retiring." "What's that?" "That means I won't be teaching anymore." "Why?" "I've taught for a long time." "But what will we do tomorrow?  Who will teach us?" one says, tears filling his eyes, lips quivering, scooting up closer to my chair. "Oh, I'll be here tomorrow.  I'll stay until the end of first grade." "Will you ever come back?" "Oh, probably.  I might want to come in and have someone read to me." "What are you going to do?" "I'd like to write some books.  You know how I like to write." "Oh, yeah!" they respond, nodding their heads.   "But who will teach me?" my heart whispers, tears filling my eyes.

Ridinghood and Goldilocks Little Bear and Fox in Sox Big Bad Wolf Frog and Morris Three Little Pigs, Toad and Boris, Dr. Desoto Green Wilma the Frog Hedgie, Mole and Clifford the Dog, Mr. Popper, Winnie the Pooh, Cinderella, Horton and Who, Babar, Sal, Stuart Little, Pippi Longstocking, Dr. Doolittle, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, Charlotte and Heidi, Mary Poppins, Bean and Ivy Curious George and the Man, Ramona, Beezus, Peter Pan Peter Rabbit, Corduroy, Lorax, Ferdinand, Tarzan, Boy, Ralph S. Mouse, and Sylvester, Lilly, Arthur, and Alexander. For Strega Nona And Stellaluna I found no rhymes Except Charlie Tuna. And don't you know  I really wish I'd found a rhyme  For Rainbow Fish ...wait a minute... Strega Nona, Spoon and Dish Stellaluna, Rainbow Fish! There I did it; That was a cinch. I rhymed my list, Except for Grinch.

It ended up being lunchtime by the time we were ready for Saturday's "dump date".  When our kids were older and could stay at home alone, we'd pack up the recyclables and trash and head off for the transfer station every Saturday morning.  Then we'd drive around and talk and look at houses we'd like to buy someday.  It was our "dump date".  The kids are out on their own now, but we still have Saturday dump dates. This Saturday, after our stop at the dump, we decided to eat at a place we'd discovered years before but stopped going to because everyone else had discovered it and the food had gotten a little too fru-fru for our tastes.  We had heard from a friend that they had sandwiches there now that had actual meat and bread, so we decided to see if it was true. My husband went to the counter and ordered Montes. As I sat at our table by the huge windows overlooking the river dam, a rainbow shimmered over the waterfall. Oh, my!  It was beautiful!

I'm up fairly early for a Saturday.  Decided to experiment with Smilebox, which is free to teachers.  I've had it for a while and fiddled with it some.  But today I decided to put some pictures together that the children drew on St. Patrick's Day.  We used only shades of green.  If the crayon had the word green on it somewhere or if the word meant green, they could use it. So starting with green markers, they drew a picture of their choice.  And with crayons, they had to fill in every space with green of some sort.  I heard exclamations of "Hey, that's not green, it's blue!"  "It says green-blue on it, so I can use it."  We talked about what two colors are mixed together to get green, and so then yellow crayons were examined. We discovered that there were some green yellows and some yellow greens! They colored, and read crayons, and discussed.  And here are our beautiful green pictures! I took pictures of their fun (wasn't really "

At late bus duty,  I watch the 5 to 8 year olds, still encumbered by winter jackets. They know the rules.  But it's spring.  Well, springish.  The snowbanks are melting today at a rapid rate, making the playground muddy and puddly.  Getting to the playground is the first obstacle.  There's a slim river snaking its way to the drain between the paved area and the woodchipped playground.   Drawn like ducks, they go on auto-pilot. A moment ago they had all intentions of avoiding puddles.  They were warned before they went out.  They shook their heads - no way were they going to go in water.  Nodding heads showed that they knew what the teacher meant about staying out of the mud.  Running outside, warnings became vague memories. The first boot hit smack in the middle of the river.

Today is going to be better. It's better already. Sleeping through the night helps. Having time for peanut butter and orange marmalade on toast for breakfast makes a difference. The sun is shining. The icy trees are glistening. A variety of birds are tweedle-deeing and tweedle-dumming to spice up the morning. There are still some oatmeal cookies in the cupboard. My tea supply is sufficient. Not spilling my coffee all over the front seat of the car is an improvement. My husband will be home this afternoon when I get there. Yup, better already.

I n a snit R egardless of R ight or wrong I ll humored and T ouchy A nd T emperamental E dgy all D ay long T ea and O atmeal cookie C ool A nd collected L aid back M editating on another cookie

I look at her and remember...  - the day she got a concussion because she was learning to walk and the dog ran over her  - the night she wore her shiny red shoes to bed because she loved them so much  - the day she learned where babies come from because she was curious  - the Christmas she saw all the presents (unwrapped) because she was being helpful  - the afternoon she got shin guards for soccer because I made her play  - the day she decided she would never have children because it would just be too painful  - the night she did the Irish step dance because it was the last recital her grandfather would attend  - the day she gave me a rock for Mother's Day because I love rocks  - the day she sang at graduation because she wanted to surprise us  - the day she showed us the ultrasound because she was having a baby I look at her and see...  - what my mother saw.

I sang a solo at church for the first time in my 60 (yes, I am) years. I've sung duets and trios and quartets and choir.  And I've sung solo in my car...very loudly. But never a public solo where if you mess up you can't point to someone else. I was a fill-in and didn't even know I was doing it until the hour before. I told my Sunday School student (she's 80 years old and a Special Olympics medal winner) that I was nervous.  She just patted my arm and said, "You'll do fine!"  I thanked her, and said I was afraid that I'd make a mistake.  And she just told me, "It's okay, no one is perfect."  She had made me feel so much better, reminding me that no one is perfect. As I waited, my mouth was dry, my hands were shaking.  I took deep breaths trying to steady my heart beat.   I stashed my "mouth moistening" piece of Orbit spearmint down by my cheek and gums and walked to the microphone.  I began.  My voice started softly, a

I'm tired today. It is too early. It's about an hour too early. I hate this time change. It takes me about two weeks to get over being too tired with "spring forward". "Fall back" is so much easier to get used to. I think we should always fall back. We would eventually get back to the right timing with the sun. Either that or just leave it alone. Did you hear that the earthquake just shifted Earth's axis and now we have less time in a day? It's only 1.6 microseconds. But still. I don't have enough time in a day as it is. We're getting older faster too. Will that mean the life expectancy figures will change? Okay. I'm rambling. This is how I know I'm too tired. I hope I stopped in time.

Some days you just know will be remembered. Today was such a day. We planned it way back in December.  Today seven women went to Riverdance together: three mothers and their four grown daughters. My own daughter come up from Pennsylvania to attend.  I had forgotten that her cousins, didn't know she was pregnant!  What a great look on their faces as they realized she was expecting.  If we had only done that, it would have been worth the price of the tickets! The show was extraordinary!  What energy!  The music was toe tappable, and the dancing...well, I was envious... I have this dumb air cast on, so even if they'd asked me to fill in for someone, I would have to have bowed out.  The singing was so hauntingly beautiful - sweet, clear, soothing and dreamlike.  And the fiddler.  How can you fiddle that nimbly and walk and smile at the same time?  I would have to wear a tiara.  (Wearing a tiara is my solution to not being able to do something very well.  At least I'd look goo

You never let go. I carried her Loved her Watched her grow Let her go Soon she'll have Her own And know You never let go **************************************     My thoughts are on this amazing bit of life's wonderfulness.  I am gonna be a grandmother...and it's just really way okay with me!

  Before I could make the bed this morning, Purrsee found the warm spot.  There is no indication that he wants to relinquish his claim.  When I came in he opened his eyes but refused to look at me.  "This is where I'm going to be today.  Any questions?"

Last night as I was blogging, my dog went to the front window and started her low growl. I ignored her, as she likes to protect me from air when my husband's away. I shushed her and kept right on blogging. I didn't even bother to get up and look out the window...it's never anything. She just gets nervous and wants someone to join her in her uneasiness. Later, after clicking "Publish" I got up from the kitchen chair and headed to the bedroom. As I moved I saw a reflection in the big livingroom window. I moved my arm to see what was reflecting off me, but it didn't move. I went toward the window and looked outside in the dark front yard. And there they were peeking up out of the snow! My two solar powered lawn lights who haven't seen the sun for months! One was flickering brightly like a big candle flame. And the other was burning steadily but with a more subdued light owing to the fact that it had about a half inch thick snow lampshade over it still. Th

I don't know when the switch came for me. I used to like writing with pen and paper best. I'd make edits and arrows and line-throughs galore often with a variety of writing utensils on one piece. I absolutely could not see myself enjoying the writing process with anything but paper and pen. But now I find that I am much faster on the computer, letting my eyes wander as I talk to myself, sometimes even closing my eyes, while my fingers just translate the thoughts into text on a page. I look down at the computer to see what I’ve said. Then come the edits! What used to be a painful part of writing, I now find I enjoy. I think I got over the editing pains when once I wrote a grant requiring that I limit my text to a certain number of characters. I would write what I thought was clear and concise only to find that I was over by x2. What? I can’t say any more? How can I still get my message across yet drop off half of what I’ve written? A phrase becomes one word, a redundant se

It's raining, it's pouring, I wish I coulda been snoring... I didn't sleep much, but it rained much. I remember rains as a little girl. After a rain my mom showed us how we could make all the water running down the driveway join together into one big river by digging canals with a stick.  Then we'd float little stick boats down the river.  It was hours of fun for four kids with a couple of sticks. My favorite rain happened when I was probably 10ish.  The rain was really coming down.  It was boring and dark inside the house.  I told my mother that I wished we could go out to play.  And then she said the impossible...we could play in the rain.  No mom says that!  She told us that we could go out and play if we wanted to, she'd be ready with towels. So we went out!  We had a front porch with two pillars at the corners.  And at those two corners were downspouts.  Not downspouts with pipes...just open downspouts on the porch roof that funneled all the water from th

I am currently laid up with a neck collar and an air cast on my right foot. Well, not laid up. I'm more "embedded" in them than laid up.  I'm still moving and teaching. I didn't fall, as it would appear.  And the problems aren't even related.  I just had a couple of vacations recently that allowed me to get to some doctors who were thinking this might provide some entertainment to those around me. It's pretty entertaining to watch the contortions to put the cast on or take it off.  And once it is off, there will be no bathroom trips until I have compiled a list of other things that need to be done.  It is not worth the hassle of putting it back on. I look classy when I go out.  Too bad it isn't sandal season.  My toes are out.  I need a plastic bag over that foot to keep it dry.  I have a neutral beige Shaw's grocery bag for everyday, and a nice dark green Cabella's bag for Sunday best. I feel quite a bit like that woman on the ad where she

It's Saturday...I feel a poem coming on... Late to bed Early to rise Makes my head foggy And droopy my eyes Go make the coffee Toast the wheat bread... Or do I want pie And ice cream instead? My mug runneth over My toast starts to burn Get the toast out! When will I learn? To go to bed early Although there's no school You must get your sleep Or you'll grow up a fool ....I think that's the rule...  My mom used to repeat Or was it the one "Don't run in the street"? When my eyes clear And my body can move me I'll know in a jiffy Which one would behoove me. Oh, yeah, words are flowing! I'm using hard ones Mixed with some others, I know words by tons. My eyes are now open And I see by my rhyme That the first rule was it Sleep required more time!

Ah, I just thought of something that brought joy to my heart today.  We made penguins.  I love them.  There is something so joyful and wonderful about children's artwork.  With total trust that they could construct a penguin, I left them on their own to produce these beautiful birds. Children worked together to color the sky mixing any shades of blue they wanted. I was amazed at how happily they worked.  For a solid hour there were no arguments, no claims of theft, no tears of despair because they didn't know how...just the sounds of cutting, gluing (if that really makes a sound), and discussions of the species of penguin they were making. We learn over time to lose our confidence in our ability to sing, draw or dance.  Recently I went to a workshop on integrating the arts.  The speaker said that in Afghanistan they had no good answer for the question "Are you a singer?"  It would be like asking them if they were a breather.  Of course they breathe; of course they

7:10-7:20 am - Purrsee repeatedly tears upstairs to the loft, does a lap up there, "neows" and then races back down. 7:25 am - Pippi sits patiently by the door waiting for her second trip out in the snow before I leave for work. 7:40 am - I put Pippi in charge of the house as I leave, but I don't think the cat really listens to her at all.  If either of them were to be running the appliances while we were away, it would be the cat. 7:45 am - I pull out of the driveway, with Pippi sitting forlornly in the window watching me go.  The cat is nowhere to be seen.  Plotting, no doubt. 7:50 am - 4:59 pm - I picture everyone napping all day.  I may be wrong.  The cat may have the tv on. 5:00 pm - Purrsee is in the window watching for my return.  When I get inside, the dog greets me with her stuffed lion. The cat greets me with vocals.  "I am hungry neow."  "Feed meeneow."  Now that I think of it, that could just be a distraction, keeping me from noticing

Northern Lights are supposed to be out tonight.  I'd love to see them, but as a friend said, "I don't have North at my house."  I think I technically do.  But there's a hill out in back of us and a bunch of trees on it and they are right up close to the house, and they are between us and North. So, no North. And no Northern Lights for me.  It is crystal clear out tonight, so someone else who has North may have a nice show. I'm content with my South.  It's nice and dark out here beyond the city lights.  Stars are crisp and twinkly, and there are more than I could even begin to number. I've always been fascinated by the night sky.  My mom used to say that when she was a child she imagined that God had a big blanket with holes in it and the stars were the lights of heaven on the other side.  She's on that other side now.  I bet the view is even better than the Northern Lights.

Ah, back from vacation yesterday sporting an air cast on my right foot and a neck collar...on my neck.  Nothing spectacularly wrong.  Just old injuries most likely or old age setting in to let me know what my new limitations are going to be. Two students have broken "write arms" as they return to class.  One is hesitant to come in the room.  Tearily and tentatively a little voice says, "You remember that I broke my wrist, right?" "Yes, I do," I reply.  "Come on in!  Remember D is back today with a broken arm, and my right arm isn't doing too well either.  We're all broken in here!  And we're all just going to do the best that we can!" Tears are gone.  And we all do the best that we can that day. So successful, evidently, was our day that one little girl came in this morning and told me that she prayed last night that she would break her arm, too, so she could have a cast like the other kids! Oh, dear.  Why don't they pray to