Showing posts from January, 2014

Old Posts are New

I was reading Michelle's post last Tuesday about having her posts compiled in a book (a Christmas gift from her parents), and I started to think about reading old posts again.  When I did, I went back to my very first three posts in 2010 and found that they had not been read.  Surprise?  No.  Who knows you are writing back then?  I wasn't a part of SOL or anything else.  I only knew me.  Not sure I'd even commented on anyone's posts back then. Then I thought about the fact that these were new posts in that case.  Maybe they bear repeating.  On some blog I remember posting an old blog that you thought hadn't received as much attention as you thought it should have - somehow it got lost in the shuffle of other bloghops or weather or emergencies.  For whatever reason, no one had been there.  And if no one reads a post in the forest, does it really make a sound?  No. So for that reason alone, I am copying and pasting (so you won't have to actually GO there) my fir

A Feline Poetry Friday

This has been such a busy week.  Last Friday morning we had to put our cat down.  He was only with us 10 years, but there was nothing more we could do.  And within an hour we had found our next cat from the rescue.  On Saturday morning we picked him up.  And every day has been a blessing.  Instead of moping and crying and feeling terrible, we have reason to smile. So today instead of rehashing here, for Poetry Friday I have put up links to two poems over at Tara's A Teaching Life .  I can't believe it, but her post is a cat post, too!  Yea!  Go there and go here to see the two poems posted, one for each cat: Have a wonderful day... and pat a cat!


Yesterday I debuted Noah's website - I, Noah Cat .  (Get it?  I no-ah cat...I know a cat...clever, right?)  I don't know if I can possibly keep up blogs and life chores, but I'm going to try and do my best.  Mainely Write is my most consistently posted to blog, and hopefully, Noah's will be the same.  Noah doesn't do the typing, so I have to, and that takes time.  It may end up a weekly blog post - like a Feline Friday, or a Meow Shout Monday...something very clever, I'm sure. If you are so inclined, and don't mind reading a cat's perspective on things, you can go there.  It is not going to be long and drawn out and will hopefully feature some interesting things from his view.  So far he has posts from yesterday and today. I've also written my take on Laura Purdie Salas' picture with 15 words or less picture prompt.  You should try it if you haven't yet.  It's a challenge and fun! Tomorrow is Poetry Friday, so stay tuned.  I don


Okay, so I was not going to have a OLW - O ne L ittle W ord - this year.  But I've read so many posts about it that I almost can't not do it.  So here's my word... it just came to me as I started this post: TRIM So how is that inspirational?  I'm glad you asked that question. TRIM - taking off the extra Take away extra pounds, Extra words, Extra stuff in my life, Extra stuff in my house, and Extra sugar, salt, fat in foods. TRIM - adding extras Adorn, embellish, beautify So I'm going to trim things down and add some fancy extras.  Doesn't that sound interesting? Before I do something, I guess I'll have to ask myself, What kind of trimming are you doing here? In writing, am I trimming by adding fancy stuff or trimming by taking out the unnecessary? In my closet, I can trim by taking out the stuff I don't use, and adding that hook on the door to hang up bathrobes. I don't know.  Maybe it won't work that well. 

Back and Forth

It's Slice of Life, Tuesday at Two Writing Teachers .  What's happening in your life?  Here's a slice of mine; let's share! I tried this poetry because of our recently moved in cat and a lyric that I used in a comment on Average Poet a couple of days ago.  The lyrics were from the song "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?" by Chicago .  I had never really seen the lyrics written out, and only then did I realize that the chorus had a back and forth type conversation - really two sets of lyrics alternating or with parts inserted.  So I decided to try it - kind of like it, but with rhymes alternating.  Can you see what I was doing? "I can still see you."  "No, you can't."  "Uh, yes, I think I can."                               Come take a peek                                          Let's see what it's got                               Go on and seek                                          Ther

Noah Has Landed - a New Home!

On Friday morning, after having our cat, Purrsee, put down, we went to Pet Quarters on our way to the Humane Society to just look at cats... maybe start the process of thinking about a cat... at least to stop thinking about what had just occurred. As soon as we walked through the door, we headed to the left where they sometimes have a cage with rescue cats up for adoption.  We could see the cage, but before we got there to read the big "My Name is Noah" sign with a cat's history, we saw this rather large white cat with a gray skullcap lounging on a climbing tower.  I stopped to pat him.  Very friendly.  The same markings as two other cats we'd had in the long ago past.  "This must be the store mascot", I thought. "He's out loose and he is so beautiful and friendly.  I wish he was up for adoption." We went over to the cage, but there was no cat inside.  I called over to the sales person at the register and asked (in a doubtful voice) if th

I Miss You, Purrsee

Well, Friday didn't turn out to be a regular day.  Actually the whole week got messed up right from the beginning.  I was sick, and then my Maine Coon cat, Purrsee, got sick.  I recovered; he did not.  In spite of a number of calls and multiple visits to the vet, giving fluids, doing exploratory surgery, and receiving antibiotics and painkillers, Purrsee had to be put down Friday morning at 8:30.  I am so sad; I thought we could help him.  I don't know what happened and neither do the veterinarians.  He just suddenly stopped eating and moving around.  He stopped closing his eyes to sleep.  He was in pain and nothing could be done for him.  He was our friend for the past 10 years.  He was a quite a character.  I truly miss him. Wrestling with the dog. Moving day: in the frying pan in the sun - doesn't get better than this. I thought I’d take time to write of my cat, The one who so recently by my side sat, He gazed out the window and looked so content; F

January Thaw

It's Poetry Friday!  Yea!  A day for poems to ring in my ears! If you head on over to Keri's place at Keri Recommends , you, too, can enjoy poetry all day today.  And while you are there have a cookie and sing Happy Birthday to her! After low, low temperatures - actually so low they owed us some degrees - now it is above freezing and raining and the 2+ feet of snow we had is nowhere to be seen in some spots.  I can feel the mud dragging my tires into ruts in our driveway.  Never fear.  The snow and cold will be back.  This happens in January a lot.  Just warning those who haven't lived here long enough to know this little seasonal trick that January likes to play on the unsuspecting. January thaw The ice melts And gives a taste of spring - it Isn't over Don't be fooled By this fickle thing - it Waits around for The right time To get more snow and fling it. ©Donna JT Smith 2014

My Winter Window

For the past few days, as I am sitting at the kitchen table writing, I have seen 5 deer that are making my backyard theirs.  I can watch them as I sit here. I sit quietly writing When the cat walks past me His movement attracts my attention And I look up My eyes are drawn along with his Past the glass To the woods I see winter trees and Bare branches Tree limbs move Becoming legs And the deer silently appear They walk quietly Stopping to nibble rain soaked lichen Pawing at dead leaves Uncovering tiny greens In winter's black and white I stare as they walk past Limbs blending with limbs Until they disappear.

Aesthetes, Poeters and Poetrinas Welcome here!

Welcome!  Welcome!  It is so nice to have you come and visit for a bit here on the coast of Maine!  We'll build a snowman and then get some cocoa and a cookie. It's Poetry Friday day! (Posted early for all you who need to post Thursday night.) What have you to offer our avid aesthetes who come to visit, dear poeters and poetrinas ? Please link below in the InLinkz provided and visit other like-minded haikuists, limerickers, acrosticians, clerihewns, rondeauleers, odeifiers, etc. Yea, for Friday!  It's Poetday! Bring forth all your rhyming words All inclined poetic nerds Put your wondrous words in order Use a rhymie rhythmic sorter Pour them through a spellcheck spout Squeeze imagistic verses out Shuffle and snippet every line Polish them until they shine Toss the extras in a pile Use them in a little while Lasso lines and round them up Herd them in a measured cup March them out each to their meter; To their greeter, poem-eater. Words to verse, and st


Over the past week, my daughter and I did 4 jigsaw puzzles.  I gave my grandson (28 months old) a Curious George 24 piece puzzle.  It was done with help from parents and he was excited when he saw George on the finished picture.  But he had his sights on bigger and better things - the 500 and 1000 piece puzzles we were doing.  For a while we told him "no" and guarded the pieces from being taken from the table either on purpose, or by accident as they stuck to his shirt sleeves. Finally, I decided, why not let him in on the fun?  He likes to sit and color for long periods, maybe he really would like doing this, too.  And what's the worst thing that could happen?  We can't finish a puzzle?  So we offered him a seat and a pile of puzzle pieces to assemble.  And assemble he did. So careful, so thoughtful - so young! Those pudgy little fingers picked up pieces and maneuvered them around until he found a fit.  No matter that the colors didn't match. He loved t

Make It Good

I can't help but write about my grandson today. But in writing about him, I am really writing about every child at any age really. My grandson is 28 months old, and I am astounded at what he knows.  Wouldn't it be nice if we could always make sure good stuff was going in brains? His eyes watch. His ears hear. His fingers wrap around the blue crayon. He does not look up. He studies the lines he has made. “Blue!” His blue eyes twinkle. He sees everything. He hears everything. Say something. Listen. It will echo back to you, In a tiny voice, Sometimes behind you, Sometimes almost underfoot. Do something. Watch. He is your mirror. You did not see him, But he saw you; He heard you. “Blue” He saw it. He heard it. He knows it, now. What else will he hear and learn from you? Make it Good. His eyes shine, His ears hear everything. And wouldn’t it be nice if it was always Good? His eyes sparkle. He grips the brown crayon. “Br

Quiet in the House

It is now officially Christmas "Passed" or Past.  Either works.  Saturday morning we got up and went out to breakfast - me, my husband, our son, our daughter, our son-in-law, our grandson and our grandbaby-yet-to-be-born (sharing French Toast and sausage with Mom). And after breakfast, we bid everyone a car-side farewell.  It was going home time.  I hate saying good-bye for now see you soon times.  The good thing about them is you are pretty sure you will see them again soon, barring some unforeseen plan God has for you or others.  Worst are the ones where you know it will be a long time between visits, and you don't know when it will happen again.  But we know we will see our daughter and grandson again in February and then in April when the baby is born.  And our son lives close by, so we have the advantage of being able to see him often. After breakfast, we came home to a quiet house.  It had been the play yard of our grandson for days.  Our cat and dog were rel

Static Cat

Thanks, Betsy, at I Think in Poems , for hosting this week's Poetry Friday!  Happy New Year! A busy Christmas week for us.... finally family is all together.  Some items were packed in styrofoam that was a bit brittle and seemed to go everywhere.  The cat was interested in the box it came in.  I picked off most of the pieces of stray styrofoam before taking the picture. Then I wrote a Static Cat Styrofoam Poem to go with it.  Static poems really don't need to rhyme. Static Cat Standing still Stuff sticks Styrofoam stays Stunningly stippled Staticky strands Starry stalks Stern stare