Washed our dishes in the bathroom sink for six weeks, while we waited for a new counter
Painted the car port and wood shop
wood shop
Extended our patio and cleaned the yard
Refinished outdoor furniture
Worried about our democracy
Finally got a new counter installed
Tiled the backsplash behind the counter, finishing the same day as our family came
Welcomed all our kids here for a week
the weather was cold and beautiful while they were here
Basked in NCTE in Anaheim
Lighting ceremony to begin the conferenceInterview with Nic StoneRound Table discussion at our session “Poetry is Not a Luxury“The Ethical ELA presentersFrank Morrison signed Above the Rim for meIt was exciting to finally meet Kate Messner in person. She signed Over and Under the Canyon for my grandson.Abusing the name badge ribbons
This week it is time for Ethical ELA’s Open Write. It’s a five-day poetry writing bonanza. There are always great prompts, classroom-ready for you to glean from. Please join us today and tomorrow, if you are so inclined. Visit here, all are welcome.
Hope is a thing with feathers
But not a broken-winged bird that cannot fly
Hope is not a feathered frenzy
Dropped in a pot of boiling water
Hope is a tree of life
Taller and fuller; yes, taller than we ever dreamed possible
Not a stunted, stingy, small-minded shrub
Hope is a smile from the depths of cold December
Not filled with regrets—
Not a sea of stories, excuses to drown in
Hope is good and honest and worth the wait
Hope is not a white-washed façade called good
Hope is a shelter of rest and safety
Not a storm without a Captain
Hope is dark night with a sky full of stars
Hope is not bright daylight (when the same stars
are there but unknowable)
Hope is improbable beautiful, Afraid of nothing
Like a bird that sings and never stops at all
They called to Hope, “This could
have been about anything,
but it’s about hope”
Now there’s a glimmer
A hint of hope
In order of appearance above…
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
― Emily Dickinson
Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.
–Langston Hughes
(…of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
e.e.cummings
Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering ‘it will be happier’
–Alfred Lord Tennyson
All human wisdom is contained in these words, ‘Wait and Hope.’
–Alexandre Dumas
You will be secure, because there is hope; you will look about you and take your rest in safety.
–Job 11:18
Only in the darkness can you see the stars.
–Martin Luther King
I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.”
–Mary Oliver
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
― Emily Dickinson
Life is an open question, the way to learn anything new unbreakable, unshakable support
from allies who help us belong our hearts stay open
that’s the key I got this
we got this
now we hope all travelers are welcome
on this courageous quest
I neglected to read Dictionary for a Better World this week, but I spent some time this morning reading the six pages I missed last week. The poem above was put together by quotes (in italics) from Irene Latham and Charles Waters on the pages about Ally, Courage, Open, Hope, Belonging, and Question.
Here’s the latest on my kitchen. This side is almost finished. We worked on the pantry doors today, on the near left of the photo. (We have to wait for the new counter on the sink side.)
Lately I’m working with my sister every day. We are making some changes to our cabin in the desert. A pass-through window into the kitchen with a breakfast bar, a tile floor and, in process right now: a new pantry and cabinet to extend our kitchen. It has been so interesting to work so closely with her in brand new areas. My sister is a builder, and I’m enjoying learning so much from her, as her assistant. Of course, my husband is part of the process too. Tools have always been his department, but now I’m learning the names of all of them and even how to use power tools–a variety of saws, belt sander, and drill.
My husband and I are both finding and exercising new strengths in this adventure. Some of my husband’s many strengths: Muscles–when something big or heavy needs lifting, he is there. Shopping–when we discover something missing, he makes yet another trip to Home Depot. Nurturing and caring–He keeps my sister filled with his own version of a frappuccino and both of us with ice tea, sparkling water, and other delicious hydration methods. He fixes lunch (yesterday: Impossible burgers and corn on the cob) and dinner (yesterday: tostadas). He seems to always know when we need a break for homemade soft serve chocolate-peanut butter-banana ice cream. Availability–whenever and whatever we ask for, he comes and helps. Often he creates a new way, breaks the too-tight bolt, finds the right tool, etc.
These words are a sweet guide in this new work I find myself in–humility, empathy, and curiosity. Here is a found poem from an article I read today:
The Beautiful Triad
A found poem
Humility is the soil of knowledge. I don’t know.
Humility is the soul.
Curiosity is the water that helps it grow. I want to know.
Curiosity is the mind.
Empathy is the sunlight that shows us which way to bend. I know how you feel.
Empathy is the heart.
Each day I enjoy reading just a page or two in Dictionary for a Better World. Today’s word was Compassion. When I read the page and saw Irene’s tender poem about two young girls’ compassion for their sick mother, I was touched. Here is a picture of the beautiful poem and artwork.
Today’s word reminded me of a text message I got yesterday that I had ignored last night. It was from Sandy Hook Promise. They were asking me to donate again to help them reach their back-to-school fundraising goal. This morning, after reading Irene’s poem, I thought about parents who have lost children to gun violence, and I had a renewed commitment to at least donate to this fundraising drive.
On the remodeling front:
August 12 – BeforeAugust 30 – Today! Not finished, but on the way!
Today’s poetry prompt came from Ann Burg at Ethical ELA. It’s called “Poems of Perspective,” and you can read all the details here. Here is my poem of perspective based on our remodeling activities:
Hang on to Me
You call me your favorite tool.
I don’t believe it–
you can’t keep track of me.
I have no legs, so I’m not going
anywhere you didn’t put me.
Most important tool, you say?
Yeah, right! You say, but
I find myself in
every nook and cranny,
every crook and nanny,
places you’re not likely to find me.
Never where you need me.
How about getting some
bigger pockets?
Sincerely,
Your tape measure
Of course, here I am by the coffeeDown here, right where you left meOh, yes, you left me on top of the ladder tooHere, on what used to be your desk
Here’s an update on this week’s projects. The electrician has been here, and the wires in the window are not hanging down any longer.
Our window to the kitchen is coming along!
Wednesday’s poetry prompt was by Scott McCloskey called “Today Years Old.”
The hour is late and I haven’t learned much in a month of Sundays, but today I may have learned that you can hammer one nail 53 times before it goes in.
Today’s word is laughter. In Dictionary for a Better World, the laughter page has a sweet nonsense poem about a hippopotamus.
The nonsense limerick I wrote today is filled with jabberwocky, and it’s about a chiskly:
There once was a chiskly named Brox
who metted when he snit his regox.
With kepkug and koof
then taptug and toof
He just prates to go to the quox.
I hope you smiled, at least, on this National Tell a Joke Day.
In another slice of my life, we are beginning a do-it-yourself kitchen remodeling, or perhaps I should say a “kitchen opening up”. Fortunately, I have a sister who is helping with the impossible parts that we would never be able to do. We are getting pretty good at dismantling, though:
How we startedHow it’s going (that is a new fridge, since ours went out this week)
This monsoon season has been fairly wet in the desert. I’m just sitting on the back porch enjoying hearing the rain hit this metal roof on the carport. I love that sound:
Then I had to move to the front because I was getting too wet…
Now I’ve finally come in the house for a while because it is even getting the porches wet. This is the most rain we’ve had all summer. It is so lovely and refreshing. I hope you are having a good summer day (without flash floods, that is).
They Covid-dodged for two and a half years,
and waited for vaccines before getting pregnant.
They vaccinated, remained cautious,
but somehow Dad contracted Covid
the day before Mom’s water broke.
I was the second-string support person
ready and on-call at 2:00 a.m.
I drove my daughter to the hospital,
where our room was designated a Covid
isolation room. Of course, we thought
we were fated to get it too, since we were altogether
several times before we knew he was infected.
After 36 hours of making labor a career,
my daughter dilated enough to start pushing.
I was juggling my duties as cheerleader,
Zoom meeting computer holder for Dad,
and chief (actually, only) photographer…
all at the same time.
But when that sweet baby boy,
firstborn of my firstborn,
and my very first grandchild,
entered the room, I stopped in awe.
Just like that, a whole other person
came into the world,
a new personality, I knew our lives
would be forever enhanced
having known him.
Because it was an isolation room,
I wasn’t able to leave (or if I did, I wouldn’t
be allowed to return). However, we didn’t figure out
that directive until I had gone out and come back in
with a celebratory McDonald’s meal.
We stayed in the hospital for two more nights
with the baby because he had jaundice.
His dad came to the hospital and met his son
through the window. It was a bittersweet honor
for me to get to spend so much time
with my daughter and their baby in those first days.
Who cares that I wore the same clothes from Tuesday 2 a.m. until
Friday at 7 p.m.? At least I had packed a toothbrush.
Maria tested negative for Covid a couple more times,
and we kept our fingers crossed.
After we got home, Dad kept isolating.
We would bring meals to his room.
When the baby was four days old, I took Maria
to the hospital to rule out high blood pressure
because of her bad headache.
While we were there, they said her BP
was fine, but we needed to do
a Covid test because headache was a common symptom
of the new variant. We sat in the exam room,
wondering, knowing it was still very possible.
Praise God, the test was negative, as our future tests
continued to be. We managed to avoid it again.
This sweet baby’s dad got to join him in just a few days,
a wonderful encounter of joy and awe.
Now, he is healthy and growing and over a month old!
Our sweet little jaundiced baby talking to me while we waited for his mom’s Covid test results.
