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Showing posts from September, 2023

Banned Book Week--Be seen with a book in public!

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  Sunday starts the annual "Banned Book Week" (ala.org). In the current political and social dumpster fire that we find ourselves, it is all the more critical that we--and our young people-- read widely and deeply. They can't challenge the status quo if they don't have the knowledge and skills to do so--and stagnation will finish off what's left of our democracy, if we don't step up our game.  How to celebrate reading? Read! Read to little ones, read to your partner, read to your neighbor, volunteer to read at a nursing home or hospital.  Donate books-- new ones, some you've weeded out of your own pile, visit yard sales and buy books to give away on Halloween! Support teachers, representatives who are interested in literacy, young families who don't have a lot of money to buy books.  It would be super fun to have a read-in somewhere in a public place--maybe the park? The playground? The steps to your local places of worship? Your representative's o

TGIF-- coffee?

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Ah, the glory of a leisurely cup of coffee and not having to jump out of bed and into the shower. This week, I've been trying to adjust to a new schedule that involves going in to work early a couple of days, staying late a couple of days, and having some stretches of time that are not scheduled in between. I'll give it a couple of weeks to see if the times are going to work for kids, but wow, I haven't been this tired in a long time.  It's Friday. I don't have Writing Lab hours, so I can go to work just before my first class, and leave after my other one at lunch time. I'm truly looking forward to it. I may end up moving the schedule around a little, but I have lunch duty on Mondays, so that takes Mondays off the table (unless I can get released from that fun). We'll see how it all works out. In the meantime, I have a predicted sunny afternoon to look forward to, and tomatoes to pick, and maybe I'll have more green beans, too. We narrowly missed frost t

One or two ways that teachers keep the kids' crazies in a box...

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I attended two online zoom webinars yesterday, and they were both good. One had to do with how to avoid sentimentality while still working with great emotion in writing, and the other dug into the topic of bias and isolation with adolescents. There are connections to be made. How do kids --indeed, any of us-- work through the overwhelming "stuff" that life chucks at us? And if we choose writing as a means by which to make sense of the mess, then how do we do so if we want to share our words with others and have them be understood? There were great exemplar poems shared in the writing session, and I took notes. Using specific details to represent a larger emotional state is a very useful strategy. And for the kids who are experiencing the overwhelming life situations, helping them identify and clarify with specificity is helpful, even while talking things through, let alone writing.  Needless to say, I had a restless night's sleep. This happens when I'm learning and th

Ranting--

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I've avoided ranting on this blog about politics for a hot minute, but really, this government shut-down, and the draconian budget the GOP extremists have put forward, is pure chicanery. Add to that the former prez calling for them to hold the country hostage to-- get this-- end the lawsuits against him. How unbelievably self-centered can he get? Once you think you've seen the bottom of the scummy bucket, there's another level of crap to get through.  I am truly scared that he and his cronies will win. There will be no coming back from the devastation and corruption, if they do. Weaponizing governmental agencies, using the military as a private source of enforcing one man's terror-dreams, dismantling everything to remake it in a vision of post-apocalyptic wasteland... and yet, there are so many people who think he's got the right idea. That people need to get over it, and excuse his "mean tweets"--as if that is the worst of what he has wrought.  I don'

Silence is...

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I woke up with a song in my head (as is usual): "Silence is Golden." Quite often, the soundtrack comes from the "oldies" I grew up with--and this song predates my childhood as well. Instead, it comes from the radio channel my father had tuned. He and I were best buddies, most of my growing up. He taught me so much about music, about specific musicians and their history, and what I was listening to, everything from jazz to contemporary, blues to bop. I'm glad for all of the lessons.  So why silence, and why is it golden? Maybe it's the time of year, maybe it's my yearning for quiet after a busy zoomer weekend and a busy day at school yesterday, followed by a busy, toddler-chatter filled afternoon. But that's just the absence of sound. I think, instead, of the silence that comes with singularity, intentional solitude. The silence that is the root of quietude. (I think Rilke is still settling into the inner folds of my brain.)  Right now, the dog is cha

Living in the Mystery

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I spent a wonderful weekend with a fine group of poets digging into the mystery and complexity that is work of Rilke. His challenge to the reader --to me-- feels just as demanding and as prickly (in good ways) as Emerson, as Keats-- he wants us to experience living, not live a life. To slow down, to be patient--no, that's not quite it: he wants us to be patience . To embody quietude. That is a tall order for those of us who must scurry through our days. It's also a really good point to ponder: what is necessary? What is it that I actually need ? And how do I practice becoming ? Needless to say, I almost fell fast asleep in my chair around 7pm. I roused myself and watched something or other on TV-- a complicated British mystery that I have no idea what is actually going on, but it is interesting in the character development. That is one thing I've noticed about British vs. American mysteries, that the characters in British mysteries always seem to be tortured, complicated, s

The Dangerous but Necessary Act of Reading--

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I woke up at 5:30 from a really stressful dream; somehow, I'd said something at school that resulted in me being questioned, arrested, and then, after a trial, eventually I was being sent to jail. I have no idea what I'd said, or even if I'd really said it. They walked me out of school in front of kids, even. Dystopian much? Such is the world we live in, though.  Yesterday, I spent a really great day online reading and talking about Rilke with a group of smart poets-- some of them friends of mine, others, I'd met in other classes, and I'm pretty sure I'd be real-life friends with them as well, if we ever met in person. Or even in other online classes-- I think I'd say they are friendly acquaintance at this point. All of them talented writers and genuinely curious and interesting people. I wish I had that kind of experience more often--this hanging out and talking about literature and writing and sharing drafts is true food for my starving writer-soul.  At an

Rilke, Writing, and Autumn

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Well, it's finally done: the grass got mowed. It took a team of five people with all the professional equipment, but the mowing and trimming is done. They even hauled off the mountain of grass clippings (most of it)--it filled the back of a pick-up truck. I picked my green beans, put a few things to rights, and set up the new shepherd's crooks with lanterns. While the furniture and so on are all stacked up, I may as well consider about putting things away for the season. That makes me a little sad, and will likely require a week or so of cajoling my husband to tuck it all in the shed ( it feels like it just got taken out!! )-- but it's almost time. The weather forecast looks to be dry and sunny for the next week or so--finally. I won't start pestering to put away the table and chairs just yet.  I have so many "to-do" things on my list! But not yet, not yet. We have a long weekend coming in October, and while much of it is already getting scheduled, not all of

Odd harvest, overgrown grass, and Keats

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I have beans to pick later today. More beans. There's a few ripe cherry tomatoes as well, and quite a few green ones. I hope we can eke out enough warm and sunny days to get them across the finish line (and if not, they'll ripen in a brown paper bag inside).  Usually, I'd be tidying up the garden boxes by now, but this late push due to such a weird summer weather pattern is a challenge. I'm glad to have the veggies, as few as they are, but seriously, I hope next year things are a little more balanced. The lilacs are so confused; they are re-leafing still. And the roses are blooming furiously-- one thing about so much rain, the rose bushes exploded. They are huge.  As is the grass. Today, our friend who owns a landscaping company is scheduled to come and mow. It's well beyond anything we can do--it's haying, not mowing. I hope he comes, though, as more rain is in the forecast. (No surprise there.) So here's another of my favorite fall poems. This one is so pe

It's time for memories and Frost

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When I was an undergrad, one of my favorite professors would surprise us one day, later in the fall semester, by cancelling what was on the syllabus for the day and he'd read us Truman Capote's "A Christmas Memory." I still read it every fall, often to my classes (if they've been good!)--and I get a little blinky every single time. "Buddy...it's fruitcake weather!" means so much more to me than the text suggests. I miss the prof, and sometimes, I miss the chaos of learning and deadlines as a college student. Both are long gone, but never forgotten. That said, there's certain ineffable triggers for me in other seasons and situations, as well. Today, as I'm sitting here watching the traffic blur by in the early morning darkness, I'm plotting how to get my husband to take the air conditioners out of the windows. It's chilly in the house. I put a small throw blanket on the bed last night. It's autumnal, and even the sunshine--when we

Writing-- how to fix what's clearly broken... maybe?

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How many plates can I keep spinning? We're about to find out.  I've spent the early part of this morning working on a draft of a schedule to fit in five hours a week at work to start a much-needed Writing Lab. Our kids don't have a study hall, so it'll require lunch times, before school/after school, and other times with teacher permission. I have a meeting this morning with my principal to figure this out. It's a grant-funded position for this year; if it looks like it's going well, it might be something we can put into the regular budget--hope so! I like the idea of working with kids who need a little support, and I also really like the idea of earning a little extra money.  I've been part-time since Meg was born, so that's 31 years. I had a sweet little gig going when the Frost Place had a physical presence here, but since it's been streamlined, I don't have that office job anymore. So, finding a little side hustle has been on my mind for a wh

Spirit Week at school-- the silly stuff is comfortable, too.

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The best part of these celebratory weeks at school is the sequence of dress-up days. I forgot yesterday, but that's okay-- it's unlikely I would dress as a celebrity anyhow. One student did wear a slinky dress with a fluffy "fur" coat and large sunglasses, with a strategically placed pillow--she was the pregnant Kardashian. I guffawed. Her pillow kept slipping.  Today, it's a teacher/student "swap" day-- dress like the students if you are a teacher, and vice versa for the kids. I feel like I've hit the jackpot: leggings and an oversized sweatshirt it is. Woo! It's chilly and rainy yet again, so this is a blessing.  My favorite themed day is coming on Thursday. It's rather inventive: Zoom Call Day. In other words, dress for work on the top, pjs on the bottom. I'm game.  And Friday is Spirit Day itself: black and orange anything, and a pep rally for Homecoming in the afternoon. I will not be there for the pep rally, because I leave at lunch

A good start--

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Hey, look at that. It's raining. (surprise) We had a gloriously sunny, warm, early fall day yesterday. G and I took Holly on an adventure (ah-benture) and we went back to Windy Ridge to get more apples and see GOATS, AND PIGGIES, AND A DONKEY--HEEHAW.  We were babysitting all day, and it went off without a hitch. Well, I forgot to bring a bottle of water for the toddler, but other than that, we had a perfect trip. Then a lovely afternoon-- I read a jillion books, watched a little TV, and generally keep the lid from popping off, while G cleaned the shed and moved two tons of pellets under cover. Good day spent.  I was tired last night. =) Today, as I said, it's raining. That will preclude doing any other outdoor stuff, but that's fine. I have things to get done that didn't get accomplished yesterday-- toddlers do take center stage, don't they? It was lovely to not read the news scrolls, the Sox lost in the 9th, the Pats lost one score (as I see this morning-- I coul

Hopelessly devoted to---

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I'm fighting the sleepies this morning-- I slept well enough, and that's something to be grateful for. But to wake up to the radio blaring, "hopelessly devoted to youuuuuu" was odd and, while not jarring, certainly not to be denied.  What am I hopelessly devoted to? I suspect that I'm headed into a day of introspection, wedged in between chores and Holly-sitting. I could list the usual things: family, faith, my writing, etc. But those are pretty expected, and border on trite, when listed.  Sunshine. Coffee. Crisp fall leaves. Rainbows. Flannel everything. Those are things I am devoted to, things that make me happy. Hard-cover books, beautiful architecture, the surprise of late-blooming roses. There is a lot to be happy about, as a dear friend reminded me. Good music, good food, warm blankets. While the world is a dumpster fire most of the time, my life doesn't have to be. I need to stop borrowing worries and start filling the interstices of my day with bright

Let the music move you through the day--

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Last evening, we went to dinner at our usual watering hole, Iron Furnace Brewery. It's our custom to sit in the "beer barn" which is a wide open space with tables, a couple of large televisions, and  windows that, in nicer weather, are wide open. It's pleasant, comfortable, and casual. Often, there is live music on a weekend, and we lucked out last night-- a duet, and they were set up in the barn, and it was really great to just sit and enjoy a couple of beers, split a pizza, and listen to music while we just talked about whatever came up. Date night.  Speaking of date night, there was an older couple there, enjoying the same things--but they got up to dance. And dance they did, song after song, clearly enjoying each other's company and easy rhythm--long-standing partners, who clearly had a lot of practice being together. That made me smile. There was plenty of space in the barn for them to move easily, in and around the tables, letting the music guide whatever th

Frustrated by climate deniers--

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California. Canada. Libya. Florida. Vermont. Melting glaciers and bleaching coral reefs. Soon, Nova Scotia (likely). (There's also the horrible earthquakes, but that's a rant for another day.) Weather emergencies. Fires. Extreme events. So much damage, fear, and denial-- the last of this list is the most dangerous.  Our planet is not just undergoing a temporary hissy fit; the climate is affected by many things, but in large part, by human activity. And yet, there are those who don't see it, won't see it, and unfortunately, many of them are in positions to nix any possible mediating strategies we might come up with.  It's quite clear that the opportunity to reverse damage has passed, but we can still try a lot harder to stop making more of a mess. And we have to learn to adapt; not something humanity does well, of late. Instead, the deniers are busy blaming, ignoring, spouting stupidity from their platforms-- but doing nothing useful. There's a lot of waste in go

Autumn is creeping--

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It's a chillier start to the day today than it has been in ages. Not yet raining, either, but dark-- I feel autumn creeping in. Today, after work, I want to make a roasted corn/tomato/basil salad to go with oven-roasted salmon for dinner. I'll make an apple pie, too.  It's strange how the time of year, not just the weather, dictates what we choose to prepare and to eat. I feel like this is the transition-- last of the tomatoes, pick all the basil, fresh local corn, etc. I bought a nice little acorn squash at the farmers' market on Sunday. I was eyeing stew beef at the store. It's almost soup and stew weather. In fact, I made a huge pot of chili this week, and a baked mac/cheese with ham. Casseroles!  I don't mind the autumnal trends of sweaters and hearty soups. I'm not that in love with winter, but mostly due to the inconveniences of bitter cold and snow/ice. I often say, if I could just stay home and watch it snow, and know my family and I don't have t

It's Wednesday-- lovely sunrise, eh?

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It's early, and the dawn sky is a glorious shade of lavender. The weather forecast calls for thunder and rain and so on --nothing new, in short-- but starting later today. If I didn't have to work today, it would be a beautiful way to start the day out on the deck.  I have not spent much time on the deck this summer-- too much rain. I'm hopeful of a long, mild autumn. We shall see.  I could comment on the shenanigans in the House of Representatives, but I won't. It's distressing. All of time and money spent to do absolutely nothing at all offends me.  I could talk about the general dust that settled after our local protest for common decency, but so far, it's been all as I'd hoped-- good folks said good things, but the issue is officially tabled til some future date when (it seems) the Select Board will tuck it into an agenda and hope everyone has gone on to other things to worry about.  New England sports-- well, the Sox blew it, two more games. In Fenway v

Civic engagement and local democracy in action--

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Democracy in action, or at least a brave facsimile thereof, was the highlight of the evening in Littleton. The recent furor over intemperate and intolerant remarks made my one of the selectmen (and tacitly approved by the others on the Board) resulted in hundreds of doughty local residents, business owners, and other concerned parties attending the Select Board meeting last night, rain and work night be damned. I did not attend in person, but I have been following the issues and the conversation avidly; I spent much of the early part of this morning watching videos of various speeches. A good friend of mine stopped by last night and gave me her impressions about the meeting as well. I'm pragmatic enough to understand that the input is unlikely to change the hearts and minds of the select people. They are an entrenched, all-white, all-straight committee, led by truly neo-conservative ideas. That said, when one of the speakers said that the remarks made by the select person represent

A Day Well Spent--

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I spent a slow but productive day yesterday, and it was really what I needed. Meg, Holly, and I went to the Farmers' Market as soon as they opened at 10am, and it was nice to just wander from booth to booth. So much lovely produce and baked goods! Yes, I came home with a few nice things, among them a loaf of cheesy garlic bread. I served that with my faux chicken cacciatore last night-- it was just right. And there's a ton of leftovers, so lunch is all figured out already. I spent the remainder of the day doing school-related things and so on. I have been antsy about my plan book--it's usually all set by now, but it was not, due to having to purchase a different one than I started with. I have the syllabus, of course, but if the plans are not written in the daily boxes, I forget things. It may seem trivial to some of you, but trust me, I am not a person who thrives in uncertainty. I need to put in the class meetings, the other meetings, the field trips that I am aware of--

Clearing my schedule, practicing the pause

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Sometimes, I need to force myself to slow down.  Today's one of those days.  I had a huge list of "must-do" things that, upon inspection, are not that necessary. What is necessary is a day to wander through--  Have a good one, C

Writing Prompt: Memetics?

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Memetics? The study of memes? Really? We are at that point in modern digital culture. Many scholars feel that this theory of cultural evolution does not hold up, though. Memes do not evolve like genes, after all, they say. Okay, that tracks.  So, since memes are still a bellwether for contemporary cultural trends, we are inundated with them. We pass them around like funny little trading cards. I have a friend who, in a meta-like practice, posts memes about over-posting memes. They must be good for something beyond a quick chuckle or a shake of the head. I got the idea this morning to transcribe as many as seemed useful into one long list, and see if I could make a poem out of them. I suspect this would be at least a fun exercise, and maybe it'll be a poem that says something about contemporary culture. We'll see. This might take a while-- I actually have some adulting to do (house chores, computer work, groceries), but I'm intrigued by this idea. Would it be called an Ars M

Feeling a little overwhelmed by the crazies out there--

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I'm having an awfully hard time mentally staying in my lane. The ginormous mess that the country is in, with all of this investigate the investigation crap, coupled with a clear and present danger from wackadoodle politicians and their sycophantic monkeys, overlayered with an irrefutable but refuted climate pattern that spells disaster for everyone, and now, crazy-train bullpucky here in town with one of our selectpersons who also happens to be a state legislator. Apparently, the ancient Assyrian/Babylonian gods are back and meddling with the United States, specifically . What the actual huh? That's a mouthful of muck, my friends. All of this (and other crud) is underscored by an unseasonably hot and muggy week. A week, like so many others, that held/holds its own challenges, predictable and surmountable, if not tossed into this soup of weirdness. All I can think of is " and now this "--the way the news anchor used to seamlessly transition the viewers to the advertise

Rejections... and persistence

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I'm struggling lately with writing rejections. Yes, they are part of the whole writing-publishing game, but there's been quite a string of them. I try to remind myself that it is a process, that there's a lot of my work out there that has found homes, some of them "respectable" ones, and there will be others given homes sometime along. That said, it's still kind of crushing, especially the ones that are for chapbook contests. I should give up on contests--it's a bit of a racket, really-- hundreds and hundreds of applicants, all paying anywhere from 10-25 dollars each for reading fees-- with one winner. I mean, it would be really gratifying to have my chapbook(s) accepted somewhere, but it's not looking likely.  I've revisited my longer chapbook over and over again, almost to the point of really not liking it all that much. I'm trying to second-guess a panel of readers and a final judge I don't even know. Many of the poems in it have found h

Heat and Teen Fashion

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This morning, I am sitting next to an open window and the froggy tones of the weather man on the television is competing with traffic hum and crickets. Such is living with others, both in the house and in my surrounding area. I didn't program the new coffee machine properly, so that is a small conundrum to figure out later on. Ah, modern living. Yesterday's heat was invasive. My classroom got too hot, even with one window open and two fans going. Students shut down: head rolls, lack of focus, etc. Me, too. I was sick to my stomach when I got home. Thank goodness for the A/C in the car, and when I got home, I collapsed for a short bit, just cooling down. The first floor of our school was at least 20 degrees cooler (and the office was lovely). This is what we sort of expect in June, but September is usually warm, but not swampy.  Today is supposed to be much of the same, and it's school photo day as well. I will go and get mine done-- we have to, for photo ID badges-- as soon

Warm Weather and Social Protest--

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Woke up with two hymns running through my brain: Be Thou My Vision and How Great Thou Art . No idea why, other than I like them both. I'm going to puzzle on them a little, and see if my unconscious brain was trying to tell me something-- probably not, but it's a good shower-puzzlement. That said, it's quite warm and humid, summer weather. I don't mind one bit-- if we hadn't had to take down the pool, I'd likely be going in it (finally). That said, I have this huge bare spot, like an alien landing zone, in the middle of the back yard. It's interesting to see what didn't grow when it was smothered: pale, twisted plant roots, a few bugs and grubs-- okay, strangely interesting, but not photo-worthy. There's likely a metaphor in there about how oppressed things don't grow. I've pretty much avoided most national news this weekend, and the local select board shenanigans are taking up brain space. It seems the Ultra-Panicky Right (politically) object