Thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the month long challenge.
It’s Saturday morning. Husband and I worked out, shopped, and got coffees by 10:30 in the morning.
The front yard roses are begging me for attention.
These roses were from my friend’s mother’s yard. The sun and clouds are playing hide and seek. I don’t think it will rain before I get done. my rule is to work for an hour or until the job is complete. Long gone are the days when I would be a gardening fool by working six-seven hours.
I pull gloves on and squat down grabbing those pesky weeds. Soon I realize I need a hoe and the dandelion weeder. The yard debris can follows me along. The crows are noisy this morning. Hoe, dig, and pull.
Last year, my shoulder was in pain. This activity difficult but I pushed through. Little did I know that it was a torn rotator cuff. Wouldn’t discover that until July. and the PT people told me to give up working in the garden.
If I wasn’t teaching, I would garden and write. As I pull weeds and my brain is thinking about this post. There is comfort in pulling weeds, in being outdoors. I am thinking that when the house sells and we have our new place, a condo, that I will be happy to have containers for planting.
I clip the dead canes from the roses. I notice that we will have a first bloom by next week.
I see a blackberry vine that escaped a couple weeks ago. I have to cut it back. Soon the roses look like the photo below.
I plan that next weekend when youngest daughter is here we’ll put newspaper and mulch around the roses. Then we can get busy on the ivy. I will not miss ivy or blackberry vines.
More slices at Two Writing Teachers.
You are cordially invited to write poems with me for the month of April. This is my first time hosting a month long poetry challenge for others to join in. I am nervous and excited all at once.
I am playing with poems that have something to do with nature and have double “L’s” (like my last name). Please consider joining me.
April 1: Alluvium
April 2: Bullfrog
April 3: Chollas
April 4: Duckbill
April 5: Elliptic
April 6: Flotilla
April 7: Gazelles
April 8: Hollow
April 9: Illumine
April 10: Jellyfish
April 11: Knolls
April 12: Lollygag
April 13: Mulleins
April 14: Nigellas
April 15: Ocotilla
April 16: Pollen
April 17: Quills
April 18: Ramtilla
April 19: Shallows
April 20: Trillium
April 21: Umbrella
April 22: Vanilla
April 23: Willow
April 24: Yellow
April 25: Zorilla
April 26: Allspice
April 27: Bullrush
April 28: Calla
April 29: Diallage
April 30: FREE “LL” CHOICE
For those who join in, you will be entered in to win some poetry prizes (top sekrit for now).
More slices can be found at Two Writing Teachers.
Well, I left school at 4:30 this afternoon feeling accomplished. For the last two months, grades three through five have been hard at work with writing poems. My task has been to collate the poems, the ones that are finished (testing and tech issues have been roadblocks).
Third and fourth grade research animals and then wrote animal poems. Fifth grade has been researching a variety of topics. So they are wriing “Deeper Thinking Poems” modeled from a Joyce Sidman poem and featured at Today’s Little Ditty.
One hundred nine poems were submitted to Young American Poet Digest through the National Schools Project. Now we will wait for acceptance.
These poems are being made into the poetry postcards to be sent out next week for National Poetry Month. You can sign up HERE for one.
And the poems will be featured over at Check It Out again for National Poetry Month.
National Poetry Month is only seven days away.
More slices can be found at Two Writing Teachers
Today’s word at My Juicy Little Universe is SNATCH.
Mama baked a batch
Cookies from scratch
So quiet were my feet
when I sneaked in for the snatch
More slices can be found at Two Writing Teachers.
This is Dad, circa 1992.
Dad loved his woodworking projects. He made special cases; one for music boxes and one for decorative eggs for two of his grandgirls.
The tee shirt he’s wearing was a favorite. It’s from the “Beer Caucus” which showed up at the National Education Association Conference every summer. I attended several and made a point to visit the New Jersey delegation, home of the “Beer Caucus”.
I think as Dad aged and realized that he didn’t have the stamina to create wood projects, a little bit of him died. His father was an incredible engineer and the genes were passed onto him as well as my brother.
Today would have been his 92nd birthday. I miss his ability to tell jokes, his irreverence, and his love of teaching.
Head over to Two Writing Teachers for more slices.
Mom and Dad grew up in New Jersey. Mom was Irish-Germand and raised Catholic. Dad Scot and Pennsylvania Dutch and was raised Presbyterian.
In 1948, the year they married, marrying outside your religion was a big deal. It’s said that Mom’s aunts would not walk on the same side of the street as a Presbyterian.
Dad studied the Catholic faith and read the Book of Catechism. They were counseled by a priest.
But because Mom chose a person outside her faith, she was not allowed to marry in the church. They married in the vestry.
That was November 27, 1948. By June 1949, Mom and Dad headed west and settled in Southern California. I don’t know how they handled church before my brother and I were born. But by the time we moved to Monrovia, Mom decided that she would give up her church.
Mom became a Presbyterian. She didn’t think that raising children in two faiths was prudent. Thus I was raised in the Presbyterian church.
I have vague memories of attending the Catholic church with Grandma Annie, Mom’s mother. I liked all the up and down movement of the service. There were times growing up, I wished I had been Catholic. I loved knowing about the Saints and just thought that having a confirmation name different than your real name was cool.
But before Dad’s sister died, she shared something shocking with me. Grandma Mac always felt that if Dad had attended church more regularly, he would have found someone to marry within his faith. I wondered if Dad knew this? It helped me to understand the uncomfortable relationship between Mom and her two in-laws.
Day 22 of 31 slicing days. More slices are at Two Writing Teachers.
As stated in yesterday’s post, husband and I spent last night with a friend from high school and her husband. Her husband loves music and plays bass and has all his life. My husband was the outsider last night because he grew up in Oregon while we are/were all SoCal people. Husband wasn’t an outsider with his sheer knowledge of all the bands and music of the sixties.
So while two husbands talked bands, my friend and I interjected comments into the conversation. Then the words, “Devonshire Downs” were said and I was taken back in time.
Devonshire Downs (From the San Fernando Valley Museum)
Yes, I did attend this concert.
A flood of memories rushed into my head. I was there on Saturday. I missed seeing the great Jimi Hendrix and Joe Cocker. I was sixteen. I would be leaving for France within the week for the summer. The day was hazy and hot. I most likely drank alcohol. (my drug of choice) I wasn’t a drug taker (the story of Art Linkletter’s daughter and how she died made me fearful of taking acid. BTW, she jumped from a two story roof thinking she was a spider).
What’s bubbling up is that I went with friends but I was avoiding a boy who may have liked me. Of course, it was awkward when I ran into him at the concert. The music was loud and we all danced. My parents weren’t too keen on my attendance at a hippie festival such as this.
This time period; the Vietnam War, questioning authority, relaxing the social mores, and the music seems to be what binds many of us as friends today.