Spring Flyers

Two Writing Teachers brings us the Slice of Life Challenge for March.  This is #19.  Thank you for all the inspiration and opportunities!

(My post a few days ago - the jealousy post - kept nagging at me.  I had good thoughts for that at one time; they had to do with the signs of spring that I can see.  I think this was it:)

Signs of spring?
In Maine, there are none to be seen outside except maybe the longer days.  We are still deep in snow.  It is still cold.  I need boots, winter coat, etc.  I still keep extra warm stuff in the backseat in case the car breaks down on the side of the road.  It will be a cold wait for help, or a cold walk to anywhere, so we still have emergency stuff in our cars.

But our mailbox has delivered signs of spring!

We got our hardware store flyer in the mail, and there are rakes on sale (and NOT roof rakes for the snow).  These would be the ones for raking up those dead leaves you missed in the fall.  They would be for the clumps of grass and rock that the plow has deposited on your yard.   They have lawn mowers and garden hoses.  They have bags of grass seed and lime, and seed packets.  You can even get leaf blowers, grills, coolers, and wheelbarrows.

The farm store has chicks ready for ordering.   It has wagons for pulling loads of mulch and other stuff around your estate. I didn't see a single snow shovel, generator, roof ice pucks, sled or bag of ice melt.

The fabric store is blossoming, too - all the floral fabrics are out, plastered on the cover and throughout the flyer.  There are lightweight fabrics, gardening tools, birdhouses, garden gloves, watering cans, pastel floral arrangements, pastel ribbons and butterfly wind chimes.  There is not a snowman, snowflake, star, or white flecked tree to be found.

The clothing catalog is sporting flip flops, tank tops and tee shirts.  There are rain boots, shorts and caps.  Stored away until mid-summer flyers are the boots, sweatshirts, snow boots,snow pants, mittens, and hats with fur lined ear flaps!

So there are definitely signs of spring that surround me, but none of them quite work for me yet.  When I see less white than brown, less ice than mud, more sun; when I see the only the tall black-brown covered pile of snow the plow placed skyhigh in the grocery store parking lot - then, and only then, will I declare it spring.  Everything else is just forced - like forcing a bulb to bloom on your counter in the dead of winter.  It does not make it spring.  I don't care what the calendar says.

It is not spring here yet.  Thanks for trying.
I remember the blizzard we got on April Fools Day, I remember the snow in June once... When I see all the pictures of blossoms and green happening elsewhere, I wonder about my choice of habitat.
I like snow, but really?
That green is starting to make me a tad jealous....or is that yearning I'm feeling?

Spring Timer

the earth is covered in white frozen shiny snow

where are those small bits that come up

through the dead brown wet mushy 

grass that is not dead either but 

only acts like it is and how 

can it not be dead in all

this cold deep freeze

oh it looks dead

it acts dead

until

it

isn't

anymore and

it starts to shimmer

and glimmer in a green

sequined vest and glorious

purple, pink, yellow, red hats

and they begin their dance in the

breezes sometimes colder than we think

they should get but they just wink and smile

and keep dancing to the stunning concert of birds

by Donna JT Smith

Dream Remembered

I got up at 6:30 and started brewing the coffee.  Then I sat down to write my SOL.  Strangely enough, my dream came to mind.  I don't often remember my dreams now.  I used to write them down and I remembered them pretty well.  I haven't remembered one in a while.  It is funny though that when you do start to write them, more comes to you.  It did for me as I wrote this.  I first jotted down parts that were clear, then the sequence and more details became clearer.  A dream not written down evaporates.  I wonder if it goes into a vault that we just can't access easily again, or if it just dissipates and can't be reassembled.  Anyway I captured this one as best I could. 

I dreamed last night that:

We were at my mother-in-law's house, but it wasn't hers, it was more like my childhood home.  My brother-in-law, sister-in-law, husband, and an infant were staying there.  It was early morning and we were going to have breakfast, but my brother-in-law wanted to go out for breakfast. We left my mother in law at home with the infant.  I was worried, since she is too weak to be lifting the baby but they assured me that the baby wouldn't cry before we got back.  There would be nothing I could eat at this place for breakfast, but I went anyway. We started driving, but then stopped at a field and started walking across it. Other people were also getting out of cars and walking across the field.

I went on ahead to get a spot in line at the restaurant.

When I got there, there was a snaking line forming. I went all the way from the front of the restaurant to the back where there was a round glassed in room.  The line was moving and
at the end of the line in the glassed in round room were three little girls dressed in ivory satin gowns - there was a sign on one of the dresses telling who she was, but I can't remember now.

The girls went by me as the line moved, and I got a place at the end of the line in the round room.  When the others in my party it was now my husband, brother-in-law and sister-in-law, two of my husband's business associates, and I believe, my grandson.  Suddenly, I noticed there was a table and chairs in this glassed in round room, and we decided to sit there.  Then someone told me an old friend (who has passed away) was going by outside.  There was a glass door right next to this room that we could have used to come in instead of the front door!  I looked out, saw her right on the sidewalk by the door. I invited her in.  She had lost weight.   She was pushing a baby carriage or was next to one, but left it out there to come in and join us.  I began counting chairs to make sure we had enough.  When I went to talk to her she had gone already.  She hadn't stayed for the meal.  Someone said that there was some discussion about something - maybe somehow something was being done or colored or something, and she left.

This group turned into being at a party or something where there were people everywhere.  Some of them seemed to have displays of things.  Then it seemed that it was just artwork.  I had told someone who was painting that I was interested in painting, too.  I think that person told someone else who began flagging me down from across the room that had turned into a field with a clothes line or wire strung to hold paintings.  It appeared that there was a wall also for part of it.

I went over anyway and this person asked me how many paintings I'd done.  I told him one real painting.  Then he asked me what I'd painted.  I told him it was a picture of a caterpillar.  I realized soon that I'd said the wrong thing, that it was my dog I'd painted.  I didn't correct myself, though, because I already felt stupid when I said I was a painter but had only done one piece!

He laughed when I said one and proceeded to show me empty frames, and a couple of very large paintings that I couldn't make out.  They were dark, almost black, and there was no image that I could see.  I mentioned that I liked the ocean and would like to paint that, but that people were tired of seeing ocean pictures.  He agreed.

Pretty soon I was in a large room where children were getting ready to go home on a bus.  I needed my bag and coat across the room. I asked for my bag.  It was a heavy wool and red.  They found it in a wooden box and passed it to me.  Then I asked for my coat.  I think I asked for the blue wool coat, but there was no coat like that.  I suddenly remembered that I'd worn my purple coat, and they passed that to me.

I think I woke up then and checked the time.  6:30 am.
Time to get up and make coffee.

And that is what I did.

Though it reads as absurd, this dream is full of little significant things in my life, some sad, some happy, some reminders, now that I think about it.  Maybe I'll just write that part for myself some other time.  The dream is way more interesting than the real.

Maybe I should paint a picture of a caterpillar today.
I've never painted a caterpillar before.

I'M BACK!  I forgot a poem!

Dreams a swirl around my head
as I tumble into bed
Waiting to get in and make
all a jumble when I wake.
Silliest of dreams are true
"Things you don't remember" stew
Other things are tossed together
Rain and sun and snowy weather
Whispers, shouts all like a buzz
Nothing like it ever was!
So my dreams just sift and swirl
Since I was a little girl
Some are fun and some are scary
When you go to bed you're wary
But when I wake they fall away
Melted by the light of day.

by Donna JT Smith

A Jealousy Post

Slice of Life and Poetry Friday Post.  See Two Writing Teachers and Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge for more great links!

"I am not inspired for writing green yet.  Maybe a tad jealous. We are so snow covered and cold, even the spring Jo-Ann Fabrics flyer feels out of place!  Tomorrow's post maybe!"

This was a comment I made yesterday.  I quickly copied and pasted it here yesterday.  Then I came back to it this morning and realized I hadn't copied or written where I'd left the comment.  Oh, well, at least I still have the idea!

Maybe.

I'm not sure where I was going with that.  Wish I'd written just a bit more to jog my memory as to the points that were on my mind at the time.

Do you ever do this?  You must.  You are writers.  Writers write down their ideas that come to them at inopportune times so that they will remember them.   You can probably tell the age or stage of a writer by what they do when an idea comes to them.

If you are new to it, you just think.  You don't even know you have an idea (though that happens to all writers at some point).  You don't see that fleck of dust just waiting to be written about, expounded upon.

As you get more experienced you see the dust, and try to remember it.  We all after a dozen times doing this, realize that just doesn't work.  Sometimes even when we know it won't work we try to do this still.

Then comes the stage of carrying a notebook - at least I think this is next... no.
Then comes the stage of wanting to carry a notebook and pen.  You usually have a pen anyway.  So you don't have a notebook, but realize you should.  So you use anything that is paper-like - receipt in your pocket, napkin at McDonalds, the back of an envelope, the border of an advertisement flyer, the program for the musical you just attended, the church bulletin (Heaven help you if you were needing to write in church...) - really, any papery pond.

When you tire of scridges of paper, you may actually go an buy a notebook.  But the trick then is to actually carry it ALL THE TIME.  When you don't, you have to resort to one of your other failing methods.

I was clever here and used a different form of "writing it down" before it escaped.  I copied and pasted.  I had my blogger window open, and pasted it there.  Sometimes I've emailed myself an idea when I only had my phone.

Phones, iPads and other tablets have made it easier to capture your idea and hold onto it until you can publish or post, or whatever it is you want to do with your writing can be done.  The tricky part is still writing enough of it, so you can fill in, flesh out and let it grow.  I did not do that.

But it still gave me something about which to write.
Maybe I'll remember tomorrow.

I decided to do a poem today using the above post.  See all is not lost!

A Found Poem from the Above

Inspired for green
Yet so snow covered
And cold this morning
Not sure -
I wish
A bit to
Jog my memory.
Probably the age or stage;
You don’t even know
That fleck of dust -
See the dust.
Remember it.
That doesn’t work;
Any papery pond
May carry it!
It escaped:
(I had my
Window open)
An idea
To hold,
Grow;
Maybe tomorrow

a poem

is not

lost.

by Donna JT Smith

Moon

This is a slice of moon...I mean... this is a slice of life post.  It is what I posted this morning over at Laura Purdie Salas' 15 Words or Less.

The moon followed us in the car a few nights ago, and I remembered when I was a child and thought it was following us as we drove at night. I’d just stare at it and try to figure out how this was happening. I was enthralled with the night sky, and still am.

The Stray Moon

Look what followed me home!
May it sleep on my bed
in darkest nights?
…Please?

The moon before the storm on Monday night, was bright and almost full as it followed us. On the way home through the night and into Tuesday morning, the sky became lightly cloudy and lit up the sky in a general way - like putting a lampshade over the bulb.  You couldn't see the source of the light, but the sky, though dark, wasn't as dark as the silhouettes of the trees and buildings.  We could still just make out the trees all night, right into morning.  That moon was so persistent through its veil of clouds.

Have you ever stayed up all night?
If you have never stayed up to see the sky go through its phases, you should someday.
(I hope it is not for a bad reason that you happen to be awake all night though!)
 
It is just an amazing feeling to be awake for the start of a new day, having gone through a sun setting, a dark sky, and back to the gray, to slowly colorful, dawning of the next day.
To me it is very exciting to be driving through the night, and notice the sky beginning to lighten and realize that the earth is turning, returning to face the sun...while someone else is getting ready to face the other way.

Well, enough.  I'm fascinated anyway.  I wouldn't want to do it ALL the time, but those rare occasions still hold a fascination for me.

Maybe I need to get Laura's book, If You Were the Moon?

Wednesday

Slice of Life #15.
The storm has stormed through. 

Window plastered with snow

It was piling up nicely...over a foot...
and then it got a bit melty and freezy and now there is a crust and it is shrunken a bit.  But there is still plenty.  Still over a foot, but now with a layer of very packy snow.  The plow came through late this morning and made banks that can't be shoveled, nor can the snowblower handle them.  So we are going with what we've got.  The sun is shining, so I'm sure it won't be long before the snow is much lower, the branches will lift again, unburdened by the snow they are holding, or the snow that is holding them.

My husband has announced that we WILL be going to Starbucks today.  One day confined to the house is enough!  Out we go!

This morning, while awaiting the snowplow, I checked in on Mrs. Frazier's, Mrs. Simon's and Mrs. Surridge's classroom bloggers to see who I had not visited yet. Yesterday, through the storm, I read many posts and wrote something for the students I came across.

This morning I made a list of those I'd missed, and then wrote the last few poems as responses to the remaining writers.  I have enjoyed doing this immensely.  It has been a delight reading their posts, and then a personal challenge to take what they've written and use it as inspiration for a poem/reply.

I am ready for another classroom now.  We ARE only half-way through the challenge!

One of Margaret Simon's students had posted a word cloud as a list of ideas for writing in the SOL.  Here's my response to her post - I'm counting it as my daily poem:

Brainstorm

My brain just made the biggest cloud

Of every thought I said out loud

It clearly knew each thought and word

The ones inside or overheard

It floated up into the sky

So I might catch them as they fly

Then write them down and let them play

Where on my paper they would stay!

by Donna JT Smith

Marching Home

Yesterday we made an unexpected trip to NY and back, and tried to beat the storm home!
We did it!  Here's our weather map and our dot... we arrived here at 4:35 am a mere 24 hours after I first woke up yesterday morning!

We weren't sure if we were going until 3 pm yesterday.  If we did, we would have to hurry!  The storm was slated to start in NY at 6 am today, and at 9 am for us in Maine.  We made only one stop each way.  Ok, maybe it was two each way.  Short stops.

The trip was quiet.  Not too much traffic on the road even though nothing had started.  Lots of salt trucks out preparing the roads for the storm.  There were signs flashing of the coming storm.  New York warned of the snow storm and said to "Avoid Travel".  Massachusetts said "Snow storm." and banned "tandem trucks and special permit vehicles" from the highways.  And Maine simply said "Winter Weather expected. Plan ahead." 

In Maine, I guess we expect to have winter weather in winter, and we expect it to BE winter weather, like snow, sleet, slush, ice, etc., and we expect people to know what to do about it.  You either keep moving in a reasonable fashion in a storm or know enough to stay home.  We don't need to say anything more.  It is winter.  There will be winter weather.  It will be snow.  What do you think you should do about it?  Do that.

My daughter in PA texted me as we were entering NY and said they had just started a few flakes falling.  Would we make it back before hitting snow somewhere?  We ate a quick burger and left to head back home.  We saw no signs of snow.  Some semi's were still on the roads trying to get where they really wanted to spend the day, and very few cars.  We kept on going, and still no signs of snow, except that the sky was a cloudy bright from the moon shining behind clouds now.

As we got closer to home, I checked the weather map.  Yipes!  I'd been breathing easy because they'd said the storm wouldn't start until 9 am by us.  But already the storm was closing in on us.  Everywhere we'd just been in the past hour was showing snow happening.

We were tired but relieved when we pulled into our snowless driveway.   I took the dog out for a run and a fetch the ball...
then I came in to blog...
I have unwound. 
It is 6:40 am. 
And I am now
going
to
bed. 

(right after this poem...)

March Snow

Winter weather is about to be had
Some will be happy, some will be sad
And others will be decidedly mad
But as for me, I'm going to be glad...

For March is the month when
the snow flies
and dies
March is the month
when spring
comes alive
March marches over
the snow
in a hurry
And mice that were tunneling
rapidly
scurry
For places that won't melt
in strong
springy sun
Though this will be deep snow
when all's said
and done
I think it will melt
in about
a fortnight
If we just endure
this bit of
the white
Soon we'll be thinking
of daisies and
'dillies
And getting the bestest
of springtiming
sillies.

by Donna JT Smith, 6:20 AM - after a long day's night

Tired, going to bed now!  Good morning, see you later!

Monday Slice

I woke early at about 4:30 am, checked email, and then closed my eyes again. I thought about getting up and making coffee.  I didn't.  I stayed in bed a while longer just relaxing and enjoying the fact that I didn't have to get up yet. I fell into a light sleep, and finally got up about two hours later.  I still did not make coffee, but I did start commenting on classroom blogs.

For the past week almost I have been trying to get to each student blogger and leave a poem, one classroom at a time.  It started as a whimsy of an idea to comment on a few students in Mrs. Surridge's class, but then realized I can't stop at just some of them...that's not fair.

Oh, dear.... my brain was starting up in its storm mode.... why not challenge yourself to see if you can write a few lines of poetry that would somehow relate to their writing that day and do it for each of her students?

So I did.  I was so excited about the challenge of it, and that Mrs. Surridge said the students were excited, too, that I'm trying it on Ms. Frazier's class now, and I've also visited and left responses for Margaret Simon's group!

The comments were worked on this morning, but then I got called away to some other important matters.  I am in the car and just now returning to blog at 7 pm on a 6 hour drive one way.  We will then do a quick turnaround and head back home.  We are racing the snowstorm, hoping to get there and back home before any snow flies!  It's an adventure!

So this is my only opportunity to blog today. If there are errors in spelling, punctuation or spacing, etc. please ignore them for now.  It's not that easy riding on heaved roads and typing on an iPad!

I may be late tomorrow.  I'm sleeping in if we get home early enough! Then I'm waiting for the blizzard to start at 9 am. We should make it home before it starts.  If not, I'll take pictures of the storm in the headlights or from out motel room!

Here's a sample - my response to a student who wrote that they liked fluffy marshmallows:

I like my marshmallows
When they've turned
From white to black
Crisp and burned
Over a campfire
Use a stick
Eat a hundred
Then get sick!

By Donna JT Smith

*Note - we got back home just after 4:30 am Tuesday.  We did in fact beat the storm.  I'm showing weather map image on Tuesday's slice.  I may try to write it now BEFORE I go to bed this morning.

Changes

Slice of Life

Driving to church this morning our plans for the day changed.  It is always amazing to me that we can be on autopilot, doing what is planned, not thinking - Standard Time - and have them change suddenly.  Surprise!  This will not be going as planned.  But it is okay.

We got a text and needed to go back to the emergency room (as we had on Thursday night - see Phantom Faucet).  I had another chance at the faucet... didn't work on the first wave, so I waved goodbye and used my hand sanitizer.

It was only a three hour visit, for which I feel grateful.  In many parts of our country an ER visit takes much longer, and even here sometimes.  But mostly, it is a fairly quick "doctor event" when you consider that it is not an appointment and everything is a surprise to everyone there!  I guess their plan is to not have a plan... When I was a teacher, some days felt like that!  I had a plan, but something would upset the cart, and I'd change everything up for that better, spur of the moment lesson.  Maybe more classrooms could take a lesson from the ER, where you took care of the "illnesses/injuries/concerns of the day".  How awesome would that be?

Except that it would be slightly weird, I think it would be interesting to sit in the ER all day someday, and just see what kinds of surprises people have in their lives.  They aren't usually good surprises though, so maybe I wouldn't want to know.  But those ER people do it all day, many days.

I am very grateful to the people who work in the ER.  They are caring and compassionate, and they listen.  I was going to say "for the most part", but in my experience I have not run into anyone who was disconnected, disinterested, or deaf to the concerns of their patients.  They may talk too loudly, but I'm sure it is like kindergarten teachers (whom I can identify/hear a mile away) - they get accustomed to working with those who do not hear them unless they up the volume!

So for today, the Meds have been purchased.  The Patient is home.  We are back home now, too.  The sun is glorious.  The temperature is trying its best to maintain double digits.  Dog is happy to see us early.  Cat is sunning himself.  The world has righted itself for the time being.

Oh, yeah, and a food run to the grocery store has been completed for the blizzard Tuesday and Wednesday.  The world keeps tipping.

Time Change

today the Sunday sun rose late
told to stay away
we'll get up before
it has rubbed the sleep
from its ray-eyes
   relax sun
   you sleep in
   while we get up
   brew coffee in the dark
   later leave your mark
   you have all day
   can stay up late
the dog will find her way
on the frozen lawn
in the gray
time change
Sunday dawn
and children will
start to ask
why do I have to go
to bed
when the sun
isn't.

by Donna JT Smith

Greeting Cards

Here's a post inspired by Katie at Hey, Ms. K
She wrote a post about her sister-in-law who sends the best greeting cards.  It made me think about the birthday card I gave to my sister-in-law this week.
My family has a quirky(?) tradition of not signing our cards.  I think this all started when I was a child.  My parents had a used furniture and antique store and were always getting house lots or estates with dressers still filled with items, or boxes like grab bags of miscellaneous items, some of them cards.  When I was off at college, my dad sent me a fancy old Valentine card with the recipient's and sender's names crossed out and ours inserted.  He liked the card and knew I would, too.  So I got a really sweet used Valentine card, originally meant for someone else from someone else!
Our modern adaptation of that is to put a sticky note inside the card to say from whom it came, or a slip of paper.  We don't write on the envelope. That way if you want, you can send it to someone else... it's like a true "gift" card!

The other quirky(?) thing - we sometimes give cards we like that are for some other occasion and scratch out the words that don't apply, to write in new ones.  A birthday card for a 5 year old can easily be transformed into one for a 45, 55, 51 or 95 year old...  It's not as easy to make it say 18 or 67, but it CAN be done.

Why just this morning I was looking at my stash of cards and thinking of how I could cross out Happy Birthday on one and make it a "Thinking of You" card with just a slide of the pen.

And then there is the most recent greeting card tradition that my husband and I began a few years back - whoever needs to buy a card goes to the card area of the store and the other one goes shopping around.  In a little while the intended recipient of the card returns to the area where the card hunter has been hunting.  The hunter then bestows upon the card recipient said card to read, enjoy, comment on and return to the rack.  Sometimes I have taken a picture of my husband holding his card so he can show it at parties (of course I don't make the card readable to respect copyright).  It is a lot cheaper and this method is going to be a blessing now that we are both retired.  We'll have enough change left for a coffee.

Some occasions are just so special you get three cards!

You know sometimes I just can't help myself.  This is one of those times.  Sigh.  Here is it:

Greeting Card

How do you greet
a card you meet
as you go walking
down the street?
Greetings, card,
how do you do?
I send good thoughts
from me to you
Is it your birthday
or Halloween
Christmas time
or in between?
Any time's time
for greeting cards
When times are good
when times are hard
Greeting cards
is always fun,
But when they've gone
The greeting's done
You have to let them
walk on by
Hopefully someday
they'll reply.

by Donna JT Smith

Oh, goodness.  I'm going to apologize now for this.  But I am going to copy and paste it into my folder though.  Who knows?  Maybe it will be one of those famous found poems and my great-grandchildren will be rich.  Yes, maybe.

Umpteenth Gull

Poetry Friday is hosted by the amazing Michelle Barnes at Today's Little Ditty today.  It's a good day for poetry!  Now go read some!  Oh, and write some.  Michelle always has a  writing challenge for you!

Don't pay any attention to me.  Really, I'm just relaxing here.

Ah, and a good day for gulls, though this pictures was not taken recently - it's obviously a summer shot and we aren't there yet!  But with the sun's increasing power over the snow, the gulls will be foregoing some of their home-cooked meals and dining out more very soon!

There's such variety when you have a grab bag, a "grab and go", a fly-by, drive-thru meal that someone else has prepared for you... some fisherman or beachcomber.  Sometimes, if little kids stand still long enough, you can snatch something out of their hands.  That's always good for a scream, a squawk, a laugh.

This is the poem I wrote for the Madness! Poetry Tournament this week in 36 hours using the word "umpteenth".  I also added my opponent's word, "hodgepodge" for good-fun measure.   I did not win my bout, but I had fun and had a goodly number of votes, so I'm pleased!  On Sunday I think I may post the poem I almost submitted.  Or I may just keep it in my files for later use and editing.  Not sure yet.  But now, here is the poetic result from Monday.  There will be more poems posted all month long so check Ed Decaria's poetry madness and vote on more amazing poetry.  If the next round is anything like the first you are going to be blown away!

It is in itself a Slice of Life - one, because this is a regular occurrence here living with gulls, and two, because writing was practically how I spent my whole day Monday.

Dining Advice for a Young Gull…

Look for a human
who ignores
the umpteenth seagull
he’s seen that day
doesn’t shoo away
doesn't pay attention
to his snack
Swoop quickly
Walk swiftly
Use your stabbing bill
Snatch the sack at will
there’s bound to be
a rich hodgepodge
a bounty there
your fair share
Fly away
out of reach
Shake it till
all scatters
on the beach
salty and sweet
tangy gherkin urchins
sweet cookie clams
dried ocean chips
Skip juice
for lips
Quench your thirst
with ocean sips
Squawk raucously
to man and sun
when done!

by Donna JT Smith
March 7, 2017 for Madness!Poetry

Soon there will be new poems to vote on.  I apologize to those who subscribe to my FB or Twitter and got inundated with notifications.  My son told me he did.  I am not so great at this and wasn't aware of what the Internet/FB/Twitter was doing for me as I clicked on the linking.  I'm sure I was a pain to some of you!  Really, I'm sorry, and I won't do that again!

Phantom Faucets

Two Writing Teachers - Slice of Life #9

Do you ever feel like a fool in public bathrooms?  I never used to.  But with the advent of automatic everything...almost...I feel like I spend an inordinate amount of time waving my arms around at fixtures in bathrooms.

The automatic towels aren't always automatic, and neither are the faucets.  But we've come to expect it, so we wave at it.  Sometimes it responds and we are like "yeah, I knew that".  And sometimes it doesn't.  Those times are when I am left waving hoping to trigger some invisible laser beam, and patting down fixtures looking for the button, losing confidence in my ability to function in this world.

Sometimes I've found the laser, but it plays games with me, like I'm a cat.  Wave hands, water turns on.  Put hands under the water.  Water turns off.
Best is when I finally make the soap dispenser give me some of that soap, and THEN I can't figure out how to get the water to turn on.  Hate those push button ones where if you aren't holding it down with one hand you can't keep the water running.

Last night I was at the hospital emergency room (not for me), and needed to use their facilities.  I tried to no avail to get the water turned on.  I waved, stood close, danced, tapped the faucet, patted the faucet, double checked for handles to turn, looked at the sink (even looked UNDER the sink) and noticed it was dry.  Either no one had used the bathroom for hours, the faucet doesn't work, or this faucet is a new way of doing waterless cleaning - a dry cleaner maybe.

I left and used my hand sanitizer, I keep in my purse for just such occasions.  One would think in a hospital they'd want you to be able to wash your hands.

We were there long enough for me to try the facilities again.  This time I waved my hand at the faucet casually as I was just heading out the door, more a reflex than an expectation of a response.  Water came out.  You are kidding me!  Am I on Candid Camera, or what?

Yeah.
Public bathrooms.  I'm never good enough, smart enough or fast enough for them.

No pictures today.  But a poem!

I love a faucet with a handle
I love a bar of soap
For when they work it's marvelous
But when they don't, can't cope.
The automatic faucet
Can't always see my hands
No matter how I wave them
Nor how I do my dance.
My hands with soap a'drippping
Can't even touch the door
Should I rinse them in the toilet
Or wipe them on the floor?
Please, please, just give me water
I've never begged for much
I'd just like real live faucets
Responding to my touch!

Tomorrow, I'll post my poem that is in the tournament Madness! Poetry.

Poems on Which to Vote

Silly me.  I almost wrote "Poems to Vote On".  Illegal parking of a preposition.  Preposition Police take note.  I try not to end with a preposition if I can figure out a way not to. (ha...see I thought that would be funny).. end with one. (there... no preposition)

Voting on the first round is open ALL day!  Have your class register and vote on their favorites today.  It's a fun day long kids' poetry event.  Classrooms may sign up to vote at Ed DeCaria's Madness! Poetry

Individuals create a log in or use their FB log in starting at the main page of Madness!Poetry.  Read poems and vote as "Fans"!

Slice of Life anyone?  It's Day 8.  The above is a huge slice of my life right now, as I have voted on all 32 matchups!  Wonderful way to spend my day!

But now it is time to just watch the results.
And time for Jello - for which there is always room, right?

Pickles has an accomplice - or friend...
I found this little guy, a soft floppy brown moose, while I was out riding across the countryside with my husband.

He's retired now, too - as of this past December 31 - so we take frequent jaunts to anywhere and everywhere.  Unfortunately, the frost is heaving now and country roads can be a little - no, a LOT - bumpy and treacherous.  Lumps and bumps, rolls and holes - and all random and unexpected.  Spring in the northeast is rough.  Can't look at the view too long or a road hazard gets you! 

Anyway, we were out riding along avoiding potholes and ski ramps.  I'd had just about enough driving.  My back and neck were getting sore.  When we came up on a crossroads we realized we were in Windsor.  And right there was the little general store, Hussey's, where they sell just about everything.  Finally a place to stop and reorganize my body!  And it's a fun place to boot!

I could have bought a weather vane, a wood stove, a birthday card, a rocking chair, milk, a rifle and a wedding gown.  I could have bought a whoopie pie, a fishing pole, and a pair of socks, but I stopped at the moose, Jello and a couple of diet Mountain Dews.  Except for selling wedding gowns, it is like a mini Maine Walmart.

I'm getting the moose ready to send to my grandchildren in PA.  He's in a small box with 5 packages of Jello - cherry, lime, orange, lemon and grape.  I wonder what they will name their Jello moose.  Pickles will miss him, but he still has us.  I'll just let him make some Jello tonight and he'll be fine.

A Moose for a Muse

A slice of life post that connects with other slicers about their day each day in March.  Go to Two Writing Teachers to see what's up in other lives around the world!

This post is more related to yesterday than the Pickles and Grandson post, but my "moose" came through for me yesterday, nonetheless!

I tangled with a poem yesterday for the Madness!Poetry tournament.  I was issued the word on Sunday night just before 9 pm, and had all day yesterday to write.  Submission of the finished under 500 character poem (including spaces and line breaks) was required this morning by 8 am.

Yesterday, as I mentioned in my post, I wrote a poem.  Thought I was done.  Waited.  Looked again.  Made changes.  Waited.  Looked again.  Made changes.  Thought I was done.  No.  Repeat the process.  Done.

Went to Starbucks.  Checked the finished poem.  Googled some facts in it.  "A popular myth is..."  Made changes to accommodate the mistaken truths.
Googled another "fact" revealed as "myth". Tried to remedy the mythtake.
Couldn't.
Stopped.
Pouted.
Waited until we could go home where it was quiet.

Then the actual, totally new, not even the same topic, poem came out - in about a half hour last night, with a couple minor tweaks this morning.  Sometimes don't you just want to ask yourself  "What was that all about?"? 

Mangled

I tangled
and I wrangled
with a poem starting fine,
I liked the main idea
but it didn't feel like mine
there was something wrong
with it, it wasn't but a vine
no fruit became apparent
it wasn't "just divine"
so I scrapped that pesky poem
every letter, every line

And I started over...
in a fresh place
at a fresh time
Forgetting about rhythm
ignoring any rhyme
And then
it happened tumbling
into place - sublime
I heaved a giant sigh for
there'd be no poetic crime.

Ah, thank you, M(oo)se!  You stood by me, Pickles...
I always have to remember it's okay to toss that first one out the door...and let another one crawl (burst?) in.

Regardless of the personal outcome of this tournament, I'm encouraging you all to go to Ed Decarias' website and read lots and lots of poems this afternoon and all day tomorrow.  Voting starts today sometime...and closes for the first round early on Thursday (I'm in the Eastern Time Zone, so it is different everywhere and all poems aren't up at the same time.  So you may have to keep checking back to the Madness!Poetry site (http://madnesspoetry.com/matchups) to see what is up for vote.  The link takes you to the page that explains the rules and how to register to vote.
New rounds are starting each week on different days, so check that website for the calendar. See you at the polls!  Voting IS opening now on a few poems at a time!

Maybe Tomorrow

I am in the middle of writing my poem for the Madness!Poetry tournament today.  I got my word just before 9 pm last night.  Read the word and slept on it.  I got up early and began writing.  I thought I had it.  Then I didn't.  Then I did. Then I didn't.
And then I thought I had it and went to Starbucks with my husband.  I started to fiddle with it, and do some research.  I found things that didn't hold up to scrutiny.  I've canned it.
The music is too loud here.  The conversation is too loud.  The machines are too loud. I need a quiet place, and I don't have it now.  And it is just ever so slightly driving me crazy.  So I may be up late trying to get a new piece.
The moose will be back tomorrow.  I have one more installment at least before I move on.  For now, I am just sitting here biding time until my husband is ready to move on.  Hope he cooks supper.  I need time.  Quiet time.  It doesn't look good for quiet.  I hate when this happens.

Pickles with Jello

This is a Slice of Life...Join other Slicers at Two Writing Teachers this month!

Yes.  It was a moose who had made the Jello.  He was sure of it now.  How else could the Jello have gotten there when Nannie wasn't even home?! (See yesterday's post if you are confused!)

So then I had an idea to further cement the deal.  I went looking for Pickles.

Pickles is a floppy green moose that I have had for a number of years.  I used to send three moose around the world in a grand exchange with schools in other countries: Peru, Uzbekistan, England, France, Australia, Japan, Germany, Canada, South Africa, Argentina.  Because our moose were gone for the whole school year, I decided I'd keep a moose in the classroom to visit with the animals those countries sent to visit us - and to remind us of our moose far away!

Pickles lives at my house now.  My grandkids had SEEN him, but he doesn't PLAY with them - they have plenty of other stuffed animals at my house, so I keep him special.  I think it is a good thing to have something special that the kids know they don't play with.  And since they have PLENTY of toys here, I don't feel like I've deprived them of fun!!

So, yes, Pickles lives here.  Mostly hanging on the back of a chair in the bedroom, and sometimes plopped on a pillow.  The dog would really like to play with him to death, so he doesn't come out into the living room much unless accompanied by an adult he trusts.

I went into the bedroom while the kids were playing in the living room, and I grabbed Pickles from the back of the chair where he was trying to look busy and somewhat pensive at the same time.  Though what was running through his mind, I'll never know.  Counting knots on the pine walls perhaps?  Pretending he's in a pine forest?

I brought him out to the kitchen and set him on the countertop, and propped him up on a box of Jello.  Being a lazy, sleepy sort most of the day, he needed that Jello box in order to look lively.

Then I went to the table and sat down to wait as I talked with my daughter and my husband.  Pretty soon the inevitable happened.  The grandson came into the room.  He sees everything always.  And of course, his eyes went to the countertop and the moose.

"Hey! What's that?"
"What?"
"That!" He pointed.  "What's that moose doing there?"
"Oh, it's Pickles! I don't know!" I said, looking confused.  "Hey, it looks like he is getting ready to make...Jello!" I continued in an excited, whisper.
"But he isn't moving!"
"I don't think he wants us to know," I whispered again.  "Maybe we should ignore him and see what happens."

And with that, my grandson left the kitchen and rejoined his sister in the living room to play, argue, pat the cat, etc.

A little time went by and when the two grandchildren were fully engaged in playing,  I prepared the Jello quickly and quietly.  Then I put all the glass bowls of Jello in the refrigerator, leaving the packaging on the countertop right in front of Pickles.

I sat down and resumed talking.  My husband went over to the counter and picked up the Jello box and paper container...(What? He never cleans up in the kitchen.)
"No, no, I need those there!" I quietly told him before they hit the trash can.  He returned the trash to the countertop beside the sneaky moose.

And of course, shortly, the grandson came into the kitchen again.  He looked at the moose, he saw the empty box!

"Hey!"
"What?  What's the matter?" I asked.
"The box is open," he said.
"Oh, no!  He must have made the Jello when we weren't looking!" I exclaimed. "Look in the refrigerator and see if he did!"

Grandson fairly flung the door open to look inside...and yes, there it was!  Jello!  His sister ran to see.  Giggly screams ensued.

And we all had Jello for dessert...some of us had two.

Tomorrow... who IS that with Pickles?

My poem for today:

Eating a Rainbow

I want to eat a rainbow:

The coolest ever treat!

I want to make it jiggle

And wiggle to my feet.

I'll bet it tastes like cherries;

I know it must be sweet!

I want to eat a rainbow

To make this day complete!

 ©Donna JT Smith, 2017

Jello and a Moose

This is part of the March Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers, where everyone is writing a little slice of their life each day this month.  Here's my slice for today:

A week ago when my grandchildren were here for a visit, I made Jello for after supper dessert.  It was a big hit.  Yes, a big hit.  They'd never had Jello before evidently.  The translucent cheery cherry red in a small tulip sundae glass that appeared before their eyes after supper was magic.  "The spoon bounces!"

And they dug in.  For a five year old, it is not too difficult to scoop up the red delicious and wobble it to his mouth successfully.  For an almost three year old it was a different story.  We tried a variety of sizes of spoons and even a fork and spork.  No matter which utensil, there always ended up being too much Jello on the spoon for a neat mouthful.  But oh, what fun.  I don't think I got even one picture of the event.  But I got it in my brain.  That will have to do.

If that weren't fun enough, then I showed them the packages in the cupboard - all the other colors and flavors Jello came in. 

If that weren't fun enough, then they asked me how I made it.
me: "How did I make it?"
him: "Yeah."
me: "I didn't make it."
him: "Well, who made it?"
me: "I don't know.  I think it must have been the moose."
him: "No, not a moose."
me: "Well, I think he came in that door while we were not paying attention."
him: "No."
me:  "I'm thinking he came in when we weren't paying attention and made our Jello.  Moose like to make Jello."
him:  "A moose didn't make Jello."
me:  "Okay.  But I'm thinking maybe he did."

He ate his Jello.

That was Saturday.
Saturday night I made Jello for Sunday.  We would be in our church quite a distance away all day and my daughter would attend a local church so the kids wouldn't have go so far and get tired.
She came home from church for lunch and supper.
She didn't think about moose and Jello.
No one did...until after supper and she brought out the Jello and said, "The moose must have come back and made more Jello."

And because the Jello was there, and I was not, he replied, " Nannie was right.  A moose really did come make the Jello."

Hmmm.  I'm looking for Pickles, my green moose, to take his picture for this post.  I can't find him.  Maybe I should check in the cupboard by the Jello mix.

Moose

Soft and cute and
Very fluffy
This moose makes life
Not so stuffy;
Leave the room
He'll make some Jello:
Orange, red
Lime green or yellow.
Don't try to watch,
Don't be snooping -
He'll just sit there
Antlers drooping.
Leave the room,
Go away!
There'll be no Jello
If you stay!
Give him room,
Give him dishes,
Give him time
To grant your wishes!
Come back when
It's time to eat
Pull your chair out,
Take a seat;
Eat your broccoli
And your meat,
Wait patiently
For moose's treat.
Orange, red
Lime green or yellow.
This moose makes the
Finest Jello!

by Donna JT Smith

And yes, the pictures show orange Jello.  My daughter took these the night they discovered that the moose must be the one making the Jello.  I wasn't home to take pictures... or make Jello.

The next part of the story tomorrow...

Puzzle Peace

For the entire month of February, The World Peace Poets has put out a call for peace poems to be sent out one a day on postcards.  Each contributor sent a poem a day out to others on their list.  I couldn't help but adapt it a bit for my own ease of use/scheduling.  I'm kind of a radical conservative, so I can't help but put my own spin on things, but always within the guidelines.  So...

I began a poem on February 1st and finished it on February 8th.  It ended up with 20 stanzas, and I had 20 people on my list...so it made sense, especially given this particular poem, that I would send a piece of the poem - one stanza - to each person.  Each postcard had one stanza of the poem with its number on it.  On the front, each postcard has ALL the key words from the entire poem inside the Tagxedo I created (below).

Because I could, and like I said, I'm a radical conservative, and we'd just been sending postcards anyway...
I decided to print off an extra set of postcards and send them randomly to any blogger for whom I had an address...plus a few friends who don't have blogs, but do have addresses!

the third piece of the puzzle

Today I had promised that I would put all the stanzas together into its one poem, all the pieces fitting together at last. So here it is in its entirety, as promised - first as a puzzle that you can assemble (which isn't as easily read as I'd like), and below the puzzle the poem written as text: (if you don't see more after this puzzle, give it a few seconds to appear!)

Puzzle Peace

Peace is in pieces,

Examine each one;

There’s a piece with a peace,

It’s own island of sun.

Peace in the pieces,

Gather them round;

The piece with the Peace is

Neither shackled nor bound;

You’ve been given a puzzle,

As patchworker’s quilt;

But no needle or thread

Is used when it’s built.

The grandest of puzzles,

Our tensions increasing,

Is placed out for hands

To work out the piecing.

Meanwhile the sun

Shines down on each piece

Refracting the beams

For rainbow’s release.

When clouds recover,

Rain again reigning,

Each fractured peace with

Occlusions and staining -

Shows what they’re made of:

A crystal of rough,

A piece of a stone

To withstand the tough.

I’m glad for the ripples
Of peace in all strife;

Thankful for my peace
Of mind in this life.

That’s how it’s been:

We’re broken, we’re healed,

As we move to the moment

True Peace is revealed.

As we crumble to pieces

The Peace of this world

Lifts us above

In hands we are curled

Each member remembers

Their part that was played

In loving, in giving,

Or moments they strayed.

And the Peace that endures

To the end of our time

Knows of the hurt and

The mountains each climbed;

Looks at the minutes,

The tick of each heart,

And knows if the Peace

Is returned to its start.

If there is joy,

Peace parts the ways;

If there is Peace,

Joy runs through our days.

Oh, joyful the days when

Peace is the song;

For where Peace is sung,

The heart is not wrong.

This Joyous Peace

Inside ever near us,

Even with small voice,

Is able to hear us.

When peace is in pieces

And threatens to crumble,

Remember your Peace will

Withstand the tumble.

Raise that Peace high

So precisely curved;

The last piece of puzzle,

Once missing, reserved.

Filling such void

With Peace where it aught,

Bringing completion

To the centermost spot.

You cannot keep Peace

Nor be a part of it

If you do not know

The greatest start of it.

by Donna JT Smith, 2/2017

Peace Puzzle Pieces on Postcards - that's a mouthful!

 Enjoy the Peace today!  Go read some more poems by heading over to Heidi's place, My Juicy Little Universe, where she is hosting this week's Poetry Friday in celebration of all things poetry!

And don't forget -This Sunday night, the Madness! Poetry tournament begins, at least for the 64 authletes; words are issued and the challenge of writing a poem using the selected word begins! 36 hours later the poems will be submitted and the first rounds of voting opens up two poems at a time beginning late Tuesday and running through early Thursday...Check it out at Ed DeCaria's website: Madness! Poetry, register for classroom voting, vote for yourself, encourage friends to read poetry and vote!  It's a month long competition with lots of poetry for kids!

Slice of Life:
Yesterday I went into 4 classrooms and read - a celebration of Dr. Seuss' birthday.  As a retired teacher, I don't get into the classrooms as much as I used to (duh).  But I set aside this day to make sure I get there.  Due to new directors and snowstorms, the process was a little delayed and I didn't get to find out my assignment until about 36 hours before the readings - a 4th grade.  And then, as readers must have dropped out, I was asked if I could do three more - a first grade, a 3 year old group, and a 4 year old group.  Being retired and having set this day aside as special, I of course said yes!
I had SOOO much fun!  I read books I'd picked out at the public library, and books I had left over from teaching, AND a couple of my own poems.  I got hugs.  I got smiles.  I got comments.
I got compliments:
"I like that necklace."
"Your hair is pretty."
I got questions:
"Why don't you have a hair clip in, like me?" (3 and 4 year old groups)
"That poem is sad." 4th grader.
"Hey, you remembered my name!" 1st grader.
And they all liked books.
I must do this again.  If you haven't tried this, even as a teacher with a classroom now, you NEED to do this!  Switch classrooms with someone for an hour - a different level - you won't be sorry.  It is an amazing experience from planning to waving good-bye from the door!  And especially amazing when you get those preschooler hugs!

Connection

Connections - starting the day with about 40.  I'm sure I'll end with more.  I had to remember to make my connection to God this morning.  All the work I put into preparing for the daily connections will be for naught if I don't remember my greatest connection.  When I get that one functioning first off, the day doesn't seem so much like a leaky hose connection.

When I first saw this word, I thought "that should be an easy one to connect with" (or with which to connect...Preposition Police note).  But then it came down to the week, and the day before...and this morning.

Yesterday, at Starbucks, I tried to connect with it.  Nothing doing.  I wrote the word.  I wrote its definition.  I wrote synonyms in a list.  I wrote words to rhyme with it.  I just started writing whatever I was thinking.  I was getting angry with it.  My writing, usually done on the computer, was being scrawled in large, messy ink in a notepad - fast, furious, and of no help whatsoever.

I had just spent the past couple of days getting ready for the yearly Dr. Seuss Community Read Aloud.  Readers must have been harder to find this year, or because there was a new coordinator, she was late handing out assignments and some readers must have dropped out... at any rate, two days before the event I learned of my assignment - a fourth grade group.  By late afternoon, I was asked if I might do the first grade at that same school.  And then yesterday they asked if I'd mind reading to a group of 3 year olds and a second preschool group of 4 year olds.  Being me, I accepted all the groups.  So yesterday, I made one more trip to the public library to find more books, and last night, I was sorting through my pile to see what would really work and give me extra in case 30 minutes turned into 45, or books read faster than I thought they would!

I connected with a website I'd used before and made little books for the preschoolers and first graders to take home.  I fretted about some excerpts to read to fourth graders... I made a connection to a book I'd read years ago to my third graders and one I'd read last year to a group of 5th graders.  Perfect!  Wait.  One more.  I decided I'd also connect the fourth graders to a picture book.

I packed my bags.  It would be an all-day event.  Water. I'd need water, a snack and gum.
Then it dawned on me.  I'd spent all yesterday (give or take a few hours) connecting with four classes that I hadn't even met yet.  I'd spent time emailing their teachers to get an idea of the numbers and to let them know I'd be there.  I tried to get to know them as much as I could beforehand.  I tried to think of things I would say to them, so they could connect with me, a stranger coming into their room to "take charge" and read to them.
I realized that I'd spent the days prior to this event making connections with kids, schools, teachers and books...all in connection with Dr. Seuss' birthday.  This day was going to be full of connections - grand, healthy, happy connections where I connected my love of reading to my need for reading, my love for teaching with my need for teaching, my love for helping with, I guess, my need for helping!  This was going to be a day chock full of connections!

And my tensions and lack of connections about this post, my frenzy for this day have, melted away.  I'm finally making the connection.  It could help that I have this coffee connection as I type this morning... and maybe that prayer in the wee hours.

Connection - an acrostic

Carefully, calculated
Orchestrated
Navigated
Nicely aligned
Elongated
Concentrated
Triangulated
Infatuated
Oscillated
Neatly entwined.


How are your connections today?
I'm excited to read other connections to Connection today for Spiritual Thursday at Dori Reads.  Won't you join me there where we are connecting today?

A Comparative

This was my poem that I posted on February 13, while we were having our snowstorms.  Our bird feeder was covered and filled with snow and snow was building up below while snow on the branch lowered the feeder even more.  I felt bad for any birds thinking there might be some sustenance there in the storms.

No Drive-Thru

The drive thru is closed

Don't even try it

Don't even come out

And take a fly by it

It's filled up with snow

Right up to the brim

There's no seeds inside

The pickings are slim

If you had been smart

You would have flown south

Where there's plenty of food

To stuff in your mouth.

Instead you are here

Where everything's white

And nothing to eat

Not one little bite

Come back tomorrow

Try us again

I'll put in more seeds

We'll be open at ten.

by Donna JT Smith, 2/13/17

And this is the birdfeeder the next day....

and a few days later after some sunshine...

 I could not make good on my promise to open the diner at 10 o'clock...

 Closed for Renovations

I'm sorry dear birds

but the diner's shut down,

There must be another

Somewhere in this town

a place where a bird 

can get a cold seed

a place to perch feet up

and order some feed

Renovations are needed

so just keep on flying

There's no sense in circling

and calling and crying;

Until further notice, 

We're closed to the public;

We'll see you when snow

Is not a hot topic - 

(have you thought of trying

The seeds in the tropics?)

So ruffle those feathers

Make downy your vest

Find other provisions

While we do our best

To set up another

Fine Diner with view

Where everything's shiny

And spotless

and new.

(and yes, 

there will be 

tropical seeds 

offered, too).

 

©Donna JT Smith, 2/24/2017

And now 2 notices!

1.  I am sending out Peace Postcards, and if you have not gotten one (because I don't have your mailing address or have misplaced it) and would like one - I will send one to you.  Just email me your address here (this is my "junk" email address, for those who are saying, "hey, that's not what I thought her address was!")  So it won't get picked up by bots, and other lots, here it is in code:

D^J^T^S^1972+@-Y^A^H^O^O^.^C^O^M

Take out the ^+- and you have it!  I don't know how effective it is to do that, but it is fun!

 

The poem is 20 stanzas, and I have broken it up into its 20 "pieces" for sending out "peacemeal".  So if you would like a piece of peace, let me know asap and I will send it out likewise!  NEXT FRIDAY, March 3, I will assemble the whole poem here for Poetry Friday, and you will see where your piece fits in.

Now:

2.  Ed DeCaria is once again doing the maddest madness event... "Madness! Poetry brings the excitement of the NCAA March Madness tournament to the world of kids’ poetry. 64 poets from around the world participate in the event; together, these poets write 126 new kids’ poems in just four weeks: IT’S MADNESS!"

The challenge is to write a kid poem within 36 hours using an outrageous word they have been issued.  They are pitted against another poet, and voting ensues!  YOU get to vote, CLASSROOMS get to vote, AUTHLETES (the poets) get to vote, and a winner is named for that bout....and it goes on with other pairs of poets - um, Authletes - until there is one winner.  Go to Ed's site and read all about the Madness! Poetry tournament.  I am doubly excited, because I have been chosen as an Authlete to compete in this epic event!  This is a month-long competition, so visit OFTEN and vote OFTEN!  It starts March 4!

 

It's Poetry Friday and time for MORE POETRY!  

Visit the poetry offerings that our hostess, Karen at Karen Edmisten* has for us!