Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

Okay, full disclosure, I like binge-watching shows. This week, I watched all of the second season of Running Point (delightful, not at all challenging to watch) and all of the short series Big Mistakes on Netflix. The second one, Big Mistakes , was a mind-bending dark comedy, and truly was something I couldn't not finish quickly. The eight 30-minute episode rocketed by-- the situation is insane, the casting is perfect, and the dark humor is awesome. It stars Dan Levy as a somewhat closeted gay pastor of a pretty conservative church, his school-teacher sister who is a failed actress and who is a "lost soul" type, his controlling mother (played wonderfully by Laurie Metcalf), and several other fine actors. It was surprising to see Elizabeth Perkins in a slightly jarring role; her character is manipulative, privileged, and often harsh. (I recall her best as the mom in the 90's version of Miracle on 34th Street .) This is not a show that children need to be around --lang...

Another beautiful, sunshiney start to the day? I'll take it.  I'm delaying the pruning of roses for a week. I've toured the garden boxes to see what I need to do (weeding), and I ordered a new box, too, which should be here within a few days. I've mapped out what I want to plant. Enough of that. I'm going to just enjoy the day, and do a few little chores.  One of the chores we need to do --yes, we-- is clean out G's side of the big closet. He has a lifetime of clothes crammed in there, and most of them have not seen the light of day since we moved in eleven years ago. Some will go to thrift, some will go to the "white box" collection, and some will likely have to go to the transfer station due to threadbare/holes/etc. O yes...he'll get to keep some. lol I rotate the clothes in my side of the big closet every season, so things are generally sorted out and taken care of routinely. I admit I've got far too many tee shirts (I like them for memorabi...

Well, yesterday was a beautiful weather day. And I had windows open all day. But I did not get outside to do the yard stuff I was planning on... no matter, I think I'm pretty clear on what has to be done, and Wednesday will be time enough. If then. I don't like to prune roses until I see where the growth is happening and what has died back-- there's not enough new green showing yet, anyhow. And the garden boxes will be a project for another day-- it's well too early to plant tender sets. Those will wait til probably the end of May. I saw the forecast for the weekend-- 40s and rain. Gross.  That said, I splurged and ordered a new Virgin Mary garden statue. Our concrete one that we've had forever is all pitted and getting a bit crumbly. She'll likely grace another part of the yard-- maybe the strawberry patch. And I do have a resin one, but she tips over a lot. I usually put that one and the St. Francis one in a more protected space, likely just on the deck. But w...

Ahh, vacation. I slept in until 6:36. Wow. That's unheard of. So, I am really slow getting going this morning, and honestly, I DO NOT CARE!  I have coffee. I just ate breakfast. I have a short list of things to do today, but no rush. Eventually, I'll get in the shower and get on with things. I have to take the amended ms of my book to the post, run an errand, but nothing huge. And I will try to get outside to do at least an assessment of what I should be paying attention to (pruning, etc.).  But not yet. Holly is with us, and she's working on a puzzle. I'm sure she'll keep me on my toes today.  But first, coffee.  I don't have any wisdom to share today, except this: enjoy the flexible time in your day. Soak up the sunshine. All the stuff will get done, or not, but wasting the slow, glorious time would be a pity. Take care, hold your loved ones tightly. C

Instead of a nattering blog post today, I thought it better to just share one of the poems I read yesterday at the open mic. Have a lovely day! Carlene Spring Pools Robert Frost These pools that, though in forests, still reflect The total sky almost without defect, And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, And yet not out by any brook or river, But up by roots to bring dark foliage on. The trees that have it in their pent-up buds To darken nature and be summer woods -- Let them think twice before they use their powers To blot out and drink up and sweep away These flowery waters and these watery flowers From snow that melted only yesterday.

Today's the day! From 1-3 at NCCR, there will be a community open mic in the radio station performance space, livestreaming for all the world to hear! We will be celebrating community, good words, and the 30th anniversary of National Poetry Month!  I have selected three poems to share, one of which is by Jane Kenyon, titled "Ice Out." Now, here's the funny story about me and standardized tests. I discovered this poem, and Jane Kenyon's work, through proctoring some tenth grade standardized test decades ago. I was not as widely read in poetry as I am (and still am becoming), but I fell in love with the poem. I read the questions, and found them awful. But when it came time to turn in test materials, somehow (!!) that page of the test booklet ended up in my papers. I still have the purloined page in my files at work.  (I have a history with standardized tests-- when I was in elementary school, probably around 4th grade, I got in trouble while taking the IOWA tests. ...

One more day.  We'll see how many kids show up for the AP review today-- it's not mandatory, and most are going elsewhere. I'm even bringing blue-nana bread. Probably I'll end up taking most of it home. I don't know why they don't care about this test enough. Maybe I am too invested. I never wanted to do AP stuff, but I agreed to, and I'm up to my freakin' eyeballs in it. Literally. I have eyestrain that would fell a Cyclops. That said, we have a week off from school next week. I have a few things I want to do, a few things I should do, and heaven help me, I want to NOT think about school stuff except for the small collection of essays I will slog through. And I suspect it'll be a slog-- same group of kids, same ennui.  The roses need some attention. I have a slim volume of reflections by Ada Limon to read and review. And there's G's closet. I'm not sure much else will get done, or even should be done, but there's the rough plan. Toda...

The morning temps have been inching their way up over the last few days; today, it was 32. Spitting rain, but 32, nonetheless. The backyard is glowing green-- it always amazes me how vibrant the first grass is. The fruit trees are budding small leaves. The lilacs are leafing out. And of course, my eyes itch and I am snuffly, but it's okay. Spring is here. Spring means new life, right? Except, it's also the time of year-- May, specifically-- that we've buried our parents. It's a bit sobering, even though some time has passed.  On the other hand, it's still April, and Saturday is going to be fun, I hope. From 1-3 at North Country Community Radio, there is an open mic for poetry-- ending National Poetry Month with a bang. If you are local, come join us! Favorite poems and/or your own are more than welcome. It will be broadcast live, too, so if you are not around, tune in-- you can l ivestream it on the internet. Two more school days. Amen. I need a break in the worst ...

April is an expensive month, most years. This one, more so. Taxes--ouch. Windshield getting replaced next Tuesday-- 528.00 of ouch. New all-season tires coming Friday-- 484.00-- ouch again. And the sewer bill is the low-ball at 418.00.  Barftastic. When I hear the feds yap about how "gas prices are not that bad" they ought to pump some. Our gas bill (we use a credit card each month, then pay it off), capped out at $493.00 this month.  There's something incredibly broken if the feds think that prices are going down. That we are all willing to feel a "pinch" for the "greater good" of blowing up other countries. And which is it? Are they going down or a mandatory sacrifice? Upside down world.  Prices on everything are higher; costs of shipping things alone are driving that bus. I'm glad I have bought ahead on some things --would you believe, extra summer sandals and a second set of sneakers? I got those a while ago, knowing that the prices of imported...

The temps are disappointing-- 28 this morning. At least it's not snowing again. Yesterday was a strange mix of bluster, snow squalls, then windy and sunshine. The ball games were postponed (wisely), so kids will not be full of game recap/complaints, so maybe we'll get down to business today. Actually, I don't mind a small bit of game analysis; it shows they care about something, and that's a lot better than the dull, staring behavior I get from some of the others who either a/ live in their heads, or b/ have nothing up there, and they are broadcasting test tones.  I'm glad vacation week is coming up. I have so many this-and-thats to attend to. The long range forecast is disappointing in a lot of ways, but at least it'll be a more fluid schedule. Yes, we'll have Holly almost every day, but with G home, too, it'll be a little less stress for me. If it's not awful out, she'll go out to play. I will likely have to go, too, but maybe we can share the ...

Yesterday was a decent day. Church, then breakfast at the diner with Holly and G, then puttering around the house while Meg did some laundry. We got the spring/summer curtains up, and I have the pile of winter thermals to wash. No rush, though. And I got all my laundry caught up, too. G took Holly to her CCD class (last one of the year), then went to a meeting later on at work. I treated myself to a nice dinner from the new noodle place--so good. O my.  This week is likely going to be a very busy one; keeping things in order at work will be a priority. Vacation week is next week, and if you've ever taught seniors this time of year, you know what I mean. It's a challenge akin to herding cats.  I have no huge plans for vacation week, but it'll likely be some sort of cleaning/sorting/organizing thing, yard work if the weather behaves, and maybe a ball game? We'll see about that last one. If the weather is not going to cooperate, I'm not going to push the issue. We'...

I It's Sunday, 48 degrees, and raining. Again. Yesterday was a delightful reprieve; no rain. In the meantime, tree pollen and early flower pollen are making me itchy and sniffly, but hey, it's spring, and I'm not going to whinge about it.  How 'bout that word? I've been thinking about strange, rare, forgotten words again. I am a true nerd: I love etymology. I like to see how words happen, and how they change. One of my favorites is disgruntled . It's a negative of a word we no longer use, that being gruntled . And I love those words that do double duty, like cleave.   When I teach Robert Hayden's poem, " Those Winter Sundays ," kids always, always get hung up on the use of the word offices in the last stanza: "What did I know, what did I know/ of love's austere and lonely offices?" I then have to tell them about the monastic tradition of praying the holy hours, and how doing a quiet duty is an act of love.  I hope your day is calm, c...

UP, and enjoying a leisurely cup of coffee. It's Saturday.  Yes, I'm sort of lazy this morning. It was a helluva busy and exhausting week. But in a few minutes, I'll get myself motivated-- there are things on my agenda that I want to get done. But I'm also going to make sure to put a little "me time" in there. It's all about balance.  My AP Lit kids managed to engage in what is known as "productive struggle" this week-- and it worked. I wanted them to have to fight their way through an assignment (low stakes, but still a grade) and come out the other side being more competent. They were tasked with annotating T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land." Yeah, I'm that miserable *itch of a teacher. LOL It's rough going, to be sure. Then yesterday, I put them in pairs (no student input--work with whom you get) and assigned each pair a section of the poem to present an explication for, and they also had to answer four questions: what is the...

  And the rain it raineth every day... ( Twelfth Night , the Fool) We had a pretty impressive boomah last night; quite the light show, some serious rumblings, and it poured and poured rain. We've had rain every day, and there's a low-40s, heavy rain, turn to snow mess coming our way Sunday-Monday.  Mother Nature is in a snit.  It was 73 and lovely yesterday, but then, on cue, it rained around 2:30. Then, of course, the Main Event rolled in around 9:20pm.  Ah well, it made for good sleeping.  It's Friday, and I try to wear a funny English-related tee shirt every week. Today, I have a new one: Caffeine and Metaphors. I think it's about appropriate, given how dang tired I am this week.  Have a good day, friends. Hold your loved ones for a deep hug-- either in person, or in your minds. Love everyone you can. C

51 and rainy... sure is nice to have it warm, but it's soggy! I spent a lovely hour on Zoom last night with an old friend who lives in Canada. We had a lovely, wide-ranging conversation, everything from TS Eliot's "The Wasteland" to favorite series on Britbox. Such fun to chat with someone who is widely read! One topic we touched on is the loss of regional dialects in spoken language. In times past, one could at least determine what country a speaker was from, and even the region of the country. Even more particular, people used to be able to pinpoint what county (parish, borough, etc.)-- but not so much anymore. We agreed that the loss of specific regional speech patterns and accents is cause for sadness. People are far more mobile in today's modern life, and we have radio, television, the internet-- all ways of blending speech into a more homogenized, non-descript sound. I remember being in college and having a conversation with a young man who hailed from Tenne...

It's Wednesday, warm (!), and damp-- the grass is green, like spiky emeralds. The bees are gathering tree pollen, and it's "just spring--"  Speaking of cummings, we took a long look at [in Just--] the other day in class. Kids are so uncomfortable with the experimental spacing. But they eventually got it. One kid, who has zero past experience with poetry and who always has a (yes, I'll say it) stupid comment, was convinced that there is a clown (the balloon man), and that sparked a whole Pennywise diatribe... ah, seniors. They revert to childlike behavior. And I want to domino smack them sometimes.  Today, we'll wander around in Frost poems. Maybe there will not be a stupid remark today. I sure hope so. I cannot fathom why boys (it's usually boys) who are not sure of themselves in poetry must tear it all down to their level, all for a joke. Gah. Good luck in college, kid. Hanging in there... and I hope you do, too. The news cycle is setting my teeth on ed...

 Mid-40s, muddy, but springish.  It's no secret I have some chronic pain things (ankle, knee) which, especially when I've either overdone it by walking/climbing stairs or if it's really damp, are troublesome. OK, so four loads of laundry up and down stairs on Sunday, coupled with marching around Walmart, added to days of rain... yeah, ow. So yesterday, Holly was curious, and said that she couldn't wait until all the things that hurt me were all better. I told her they likely would not ever be, but most of the time it's not too bad. She countered with "so, you're going to stay old? and get old and old and old?"  Yes, dear, I am. That's the way it works.  It nearly broke my heart. I love her so much, and I'd rather not get old and unable to keep up. This summer, before I get more "old," we are going to do everything I can that will make for the best summer ever. She is more than worth it. Have a good day, friends. Love to all. C

Monday-- 39 degrees and raining, and it's been raining all night. Greening up the lawns and trees, pushing up crocuses and daffies... but also muddy and wet. Days like this, I'm grateful I no longer live on a dirt road a mile from pavement as I did from the age of 12 until I got married.  Yesterday, G and I went out for an afternoon coffee, and while we were out, we braved Walmart. Ugh. Hate that store-- it's huge, the floors are concrete, and there's just so much STUFF. That said, G needed a bike helmet. His doctor has been after him to increase his sustained activity (as if 12 hour shifts hauling five gallon buckets of paint isn't enough, but yeah), so he's got his bike up and ready to go. Which is, of course, another good reason not to live on a dirt road-- pavement is kinder to ride on. We also got him a mirror/light thingy too-- safety is a good thing, especially if one is hard of hearing. At any rate, ugh, the store, but okay, we found what we needed (and ...

Prayer for Divine Mercy Sunday O Father, we humbly come before You, yearning for Your boundless compassion to envelop our hearts. May Your love heal our wounds and guide us in kindness towards others. Help us to reflect Your mercy in our actions, and grant us the strength to extend grace even in our trials. Fill us with Your spirit of compassion, that we may be vessels of Your love. Amen. I watched the vigil for peace yesterday, and Pope Leo XIV had a wonderful "reflection" he offered. He quoted several former popes' words regarding peace; those who think that the Pope is too "woke" would be surprised to realize that the missions of mercy, compassion, and social justice have always been the cornerstone of the Church. Now, I understand that historically, the actions of the Church and her hierarchy have not upheld the missions-- sometime the church's actions have been tragically flawed. But isn't that because the church is made up of human beings? We are n...

As predicted, it's wet and under 40 degrees at the moment. I pray that the sun comes out earlier than expected, but I'm a realist, too. Holly, Tim, and I will wend our way to Lisbon to the Community Field so that Holly can get to tee ball practice. I've promised a quick stop at Wildflour for a snack after. She's also heading to the movies today to see the Mario thing-- and I'll be heading to the grocery store to forage for sustenance. Saturday, y'know. I'd like to go out for dinner, too-- it's been a crazy busy week, and I'm feeling quite tired. And tomorrow I read at church. Then there's the monthly pancake breakfast!  Where do weekends go, anyhow?  I have a stack of 12 papers to read this weekend, and a bit of general housework, too. I wonder how those people whose social media photos declare that they go here or there and do all this fun and crazy stuff on weekends-- how do they keep their regular life moving along? I wonder if I'm doing ...

Brief note of small gratitudes: 32 degrees. No rain yet.  Friday. Holly starts tee ball tomorrow morning. No boots needed. Hot coffee. Owl shirt.  Amen. Have a good day, friends... you know the drill. Love your loved ones, help those you can. C

How 'bout that? It's Thursday again. Trash-day-eve. Day to do banking, to pay bills, to gather trash to put out on the curb. Quite a different take on Thursday from that of college-aged/ younger folks, I suppose. Thirsty Thursday, indeed. Or for others on social media: Throwback Thursday. I don't participate in either of those.  So, it's the next-to-last day of a work week.  The temps are better-ish: woke up to 20 degrees. Yesterday did warm up to mid-40s, and the forecast for our area is warmer, and staying warmer, for a stretch of days. This is a good thing. I hate being cold. The seductiveness of spring sunshine undercut by chill. There's a metaphor in there somewhere.  I want to stay home and write.  I can't stay home and write. I will be going to work to prod young people to write.  Thursday, writing, and I'm not the one who is.  But I have a draft idea, a little blurt or two, that came from a nice workshop I attended online last night. It was mentored...

Twelve degrees, snow on the ground. I'm so over it.  The scheduled baseball/softball games at school were postponed yesterday (snow squalls) and moved to today. I suspect they won't be playing today, either, unless it warms up and dries off miraculously. Why we even schedule games this early is beyond me; they almost never get played. The Red Sox managed a win yesterday in Fenway-- wind chill at the end of the game was 25 degrees.  Winter needs to take a bow. Actually, winter needs to be hustled out the door by two very large bouncers.  And I'm glad to see we averted global annihilation last night. We'll see how long the cease fire lasts; I assume it would take good faith on all parts. I find it interesting that Pakistan is part of the brokered suspension.  I used to like to follow politics, global and national, because I thought it was interesting to see how humans organized themselves, and to what results. Now, I wish it would all just lie down and shut up.  K...

More snow. I mean, seriously. Yes, I know it's not unusual. And yes, it'll melt. But gee whiz. Saturday was sunny and almost 70.  This week is already feeling long; yesterday was a rough day at work. I haven't had one of those in a while, but yeah... draining. I hope today is better. And when I get home, I have four loads of laundry to fold. I have such an exciting life, eh?  At least I have the final sales report from the preorder phase for my book. I can start working on the broadsides I promised to send out! That should be a lot of fun. It's kind of like sending out Christmas cards.  (Well, if we get the predicted snow, it'll be just like sending out Christmas cards. sigh.) And we can't find today's newspaper. It's usually here really super early, but not today. Unless it's wedged heaven-knows-where behind something outside. I'll have to check when I leave for work.  The news cycle is apocalyptic. I'm trying not to think too much about it....

What a busy weekend-- I got a lot done. It felt both good and odd to basically just hang around all day yesterday. We all went to church, then home for a hearty brunch. Then just hung out-- Holly got a bit antsy, but she is four and sitting and reading for hours, or watching TV, or snoozing, are not on her dance card just yet. But we all had a pretty restful day. Amen.  Time and tide wait for no one, though, and we are launching into National Poetry Month. I wrapped up the pre-order sales for my book on Friday, and I should have the final sales sheet later today. Then, I'll get to signing and sending out the broadsides I had made as my thank you to those who bought books ahead of publication date. I truly do appreciate the support! And my dear friend Dawn Potter was named the next Poet Laureate of Maine! So much to celebrate-- good words and community win! And yet house work creeps back in. And I see so much yard work that will have to happen--but not yet. Flurries are in the forec...

Bunnies and eggs aside, we have much to contemplate and be grateful for in that we are, as a priest once reminded us a few years ago, Easter People. Through much darkness and tribulation, with patience and faith we wait. Jesus fulfills the Promise. We need to choose to believe that all things are possible and fulfill ours as well.  The nation --the world-- are shrouded in a confusion and darkness that troubles the soul, to be sure. But we are supposed to be the light. It is a big task, a huge undertaking, but if we are to find our way through these current troubled times, we must become "the light of the world." It is through our faith and good work that change will come.  Happy Easter, friends. Be safe. Let's light this thing up! C

Going to Adoration yesterday was really nice. I brought the Mary Oliver book, and in the time I was there in the half-light, I prayed some, and I read about 90 pages of poems that ask the reader to search out their relationship with nature, with their own inner self, and with a Creator greater than man can fathom. The poems are not preachy at all; instead, they focus the attention on the minute details of daily life. Birds, the clouds, all things in nature are the focus. If God is truly in all things, then why do we pass all things by looking for him?  The poems sometimes remind me of reading Tu Fu in translation, focusing on intimate little curious moments, and then letting us go. At other times, the poems really recollect Whitman in his expansiveness, the all-inclusive wide-ranging "I" of his poems. I enjoyed all of them. I did not bring a pencil to mark any, but there's one in particular I dog-eared, titled "At the River Clarion." I found a nice reading of th...

Good Friday. I have taken a personal day to sit quietly, to do a few things at home, but again, quietly. My whole body and mind are craving a quiet day.  I'll start out with Adoration at church for an hour.  I will do a few simple house chores.  And I hope to sit quietly and read for a while. Not the dystopian fiction I've been reading, but something more contemplative. I have Mary Oliver's collection of poems titled Devotions . I'll take it with me to church; the poems are all inspirational, prayerful, and contemplative.  And I will not doom-scroll on the internet. I will check in to make sure my students are floundering (but they shouldn't be), but mostly, I'll maintain the quiet until it is time to get Holly at school.  I wish for you a good day. Blessings and hope for us all, C

Holy Thursday. We should recall the act of service Jesus did for the disciples, and that he enjoined them --and us-- to do the same. Washing of feet is not just an act of cleanliness; it's humbling work, it's caring for others' comfort, it's a metaphor for how to live one's life.  Do I make the effort to help others through their daily challenges and tasks?  Do I seek out ways to use the gifts and talents that I have been give in service to the greater good?  Do I accept help when it is offered?  That last one is the hardest sometimes. Yet, to acknowledge that we need help, and to accept it humbly, is just what the disciples has to learn, too.  Things to think about. Have a good day, friends.  C

We did the eggs-- only one was cracked-- and they are lovely. Such bright colors! And right now, I could use a lot more color. The remainders of snow are dirty and gray-crusted, the mud is dingy, the tree branches are laden with shriveled up crabapples and small twigs. The grass, while starting to green up, is still choked with the long, dead strands of last year's end-of-season bits. In a word, dull. Very.  But the fat robin that lives in the lilac hedge (as near as I can tell, anyhow) is brilliantly red-breasted. And the gold finches are coming into their neon yellows. The red cardinal, along with his lady, have returned to the back yard; that flash of scarlet is welcome, too.  No sign of crocuses yet. Just wind-blown trash bits and other winter detritus. It's almost time to rake and prune and so on. But not yet. Still too wet, too cold, too-- early.  I hope you have a good day. No foolin'.  C