March 20: 3:08-3:39 A Trip to Gibbs Gardens

I take an afternoon break at work usually around 3:30 for about 10 minutes to stretch my legs and walk outdoors around the building in the sunshine when it’s warm. My body and soul need the Vitamin D. I need the release of noise and stress to take to the silence. I’m reminded of Margaret Simon’s recent post on Notes from a Walk inspired by Denise Kreb’s post on her own morning walk and take some mental notes for a blog post later. I notice the flowers, the birdsong, the hidden Pirate Trail so perfect for a solitary walk to indulge for just a few minutes in the name of what little sanity and peace of mind exists right now.

This walk reminds me of our visit to Gibbs Gardens last year, where we took in the breathtaking views of daffodils and tulips. It makes me want to go back again. They’ve just opened for the season on March 1. I pull up the ticket information and the hours, starting to plan the trip in my mind. I check out the Bloom Update calendar and admire the photos of the same daffodils I’d seen last year that were recently photographed, smiling their friendly, welcoming springtime smiles already this year.

This weekend? Next weekend? What’s on tap for us? I text my husband: Let’s go back to Gibb’s Gardens! Which weekend works for you?

And then, across the parking lot in the row of pines, I see the familiar ghostly cloud of yellow spores signaling me from the tip top branches, sweeping through the needles and swooping down, taking my inner springtime joy with it as one giant corkscrewing wave spirals in a hurried flurry to the ground. My weekend dreams pummel in that same way inside my heart, and I can feel it.

I cover my nose and mouth and return to the less-spored indoors, turning the personal air purifier in my cubicle to the highest setting, abandoning all ambition to make the drive to Gibbs Gardens until after pollen season and penciling a note to myself to tape to my keys: remember to dig out the NeilMed sinus rinse bottle before bed.

Gibbs Gardens trip plans

come to a screeching-hard halt

in this pollen count

Today’s Pollen Count in Pike County, Georgia is 184 grains per cubic meter of air……..

  • Today: High
  • Tomorrow: Very High
  • Saturday: Very High

March 18: 2:04-2:35 Dictionary Poem

Today’s poetry prompt for the fourth day of our five Open Write days in March at http://www.ethicalela.com is to wrote a Dictionary Poem, inspired by Katrina Morrison. You can read her full prompt here.

Support

sup-port (v) – to hold up or bear the weight of

ex: the toothpicks I need for my eyelids this morning

sup-port (n) – assistance

ex: three hours on the phone with a computer technician

sup-port (adj) – the type of something

ex: having your own emotional support shark

March 16: 1:00-1:31 – Colorful Stories to Breathe By

For five days this month, three of my writing communities intersect on the same day. I’ve often had folks ask me how I manage three writing groups at once The secret is in the streamlining. For The Stafford Challenge, we write a poem a day for a year. For the Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com, we write a poem a day for five days a month and every day in April (you can read today’s prompt by Sarah Donovan here, inspiring writers to write about a place to breathe), and for The Slice of Life Challenge, we blog about a life moment. The magic of making it happen is to figure out which one works as a one-size-fits-all writing and to get started. Today, I’m using the Open Write prompt linked above.

A Place to Breathe……hmmm…….there are several of those, but what comes to mind lately is Ace Hardware.

After church, we piddle around on Sundays. Sometimes that means going to the hardware store so we can replenish our birdseed supply or pick up something we need to work on around the house. My husband likes looking at the lightbulbs, and I know I will always find him on that aisle. We live deep in the rural countryside of Georgia, so it doesn’t take much to entertain either one of us.

Me? I look around, but I discovered a secret thrill that takes me to the Magnolia Home paint chip section, and I have to be secretive about my mission so no one else discovers it. This hidden pleasure would surely draw all the crowds from their farms and tractors, but I only want to share it with those reading my blog so that my place to breathe remains mine alone in this town.

Colorful Story Paint Chip Haiku

did you know that there

are stories on the backs of

Magnolia chips?

these are the kinds of

deep-breathing exercises

perfect for writers

colorful stories

that’ll take your breath away

and make you want to

write your own colorful gems

about your own hues

just take a deep breath

close your eyes, go someplace loved

pick up your own pen

Take a look at these colorful, brilliant gems pictured below! Sure, it’s a marketing strategy, but I’d pay a little more for a gallon of this paint just to line the pockets of a writer who took the time to make all the right words work.

And then, after the Magnolia Paint chip section, I’m off to the garden section, where the herbs have just arrived in 4″ pots, where I picked up four patio tomatoes before they were entered in the system earlier this week – – -stood and waited for them to be buyable. I smell the rosemary and dill, and then…..smell the summer salmon on the grill.

Then a bag of birdseed and clear hummingbird mix for the hummers due to arrive this week according to all bird count maps. I’ll boil water and clean out the glass feeders, hang them by the front porch…..and sit with a glass of blood orange iced tea spiked with honey. And I’ll listen for the familiar hum and the steak of green glimmer. I will hear them before I ever see them.

And last I’m off to the lightbulbs, where he will be standing, holding a box or two, saying what he always says: you just can’t find incandescent bulbs anymore, and we need them for the heat in the well. And I’ll do what I always do: I’ll show him the heat bulbs like we used for the chickens, and he’ll act like it’s the first time I’ve ever suggested it. He’ll put back his box and pick up the heat bulbs, and then we’ll make our purchases and drive home after an exciting piddle through our local Ace Hardware Store.

March 11: 10:20-10:51 Promoting The Poetry Fox

When Fran Haley of North Carolina told me about The Poetry Fox a couple of years ago, I knew this would be a treat to bring him to our town for National Poetry Month. Fran was absolutely right – he’s the coolest fox I’ve ever met. When you meet him, you give him a word. He types out a poem on a vintage typewriter, reads it to you, stamps his special paw stamp on it, and gives it to you in a presentation folder. Last year, everyone was in awe of his process!

For the evening session, The Fox will come out of costume and talk to us about how he became The Poetry Fox. He’ll share the games he played with his family as a child to build his vocabulary – – all part of his journey to becoming a poet and writer. He’ll also share how he acquired his costume and took on a new role.

We can’t wait to host him for the second year in a row in our local coffee shop on April 2nd, brought to us by the L4GA Literacy Grant in Georgia. Today during this slice of time in my work day, I’ll be distributing flyers to invite everyone to come and watch The Fox at work! Come meet The Fox and I’ll buy you a coffee or tea – -your choice!

I’m inviting YOU

Come to Pike County, Georgia

Can’t wait to meet you!

March 9: 9:16-9:47 Clap if You Believe in Fairies!

Late-to-Rise Leprechaun: A Modified Limerick

a leprechaun sat ‘neath the shamrocks

with buckled hat, red beard, and striped socks

his faeries he queried

am I late? I’m quite w’erried

so ye be, chimed the three,

(one with book upon knee),

even fairyland can’t turn back time clocks

Top o’ the mornin’ to ya! I took a spur-o’-the-moment trip south to visit my family as my brother and sister in law and I try to help Dad tackle some tasks he can no longer do on his own. Chemotherapy has zapped all of his strength, and we (and others) continue to try to help where he will allow it – which is not nearly enough for any of us to feel satisfied, but that will take the luck o’ the Irish and a lot of prayer to change. He’s testy with us, seems skeptical, and wants to be left alone. He’s made it quite clear.

Before my brother and I visited him, I had a little extra time to check out the Ace Garden Center on St. Simons Island, Georgia, and I’d spied a little leprechaun in the robust fairy garden section that I’d planned to go back and get after visiting with Dad. I was there to look for spider plants, known for improving air quality by giving off oxygen in their transpiration process. But leave it to fairies to lure me down the aisle of wonder and intrigue. While I don’t have a dedicated fairy garden, my whole front porch is filled with fairies in their own plant container homes.

Imagine my delight when my sister in law, Jennifer, asked me to swing back by the house after visiting with Dad. She’d known just the medicine I’d needed – – a little fairy magic to cheer me up! She’d read my blog yesterday morning and beat me to the fairy section, choosing the perfect assortment of fairies – and the leprechaun – to sit on the edge of my shamrock plant as a gift – – making them so much more meaningful. Each time I look at the leprechaun, I smile. And what she didn’t know was that I would have picked the fairies dressed in green – – for an extra sprinkling of Irish fairy dust!

When I opened the gift, a black nose appeared out of nowhere – – JoJo, one of their black labs, sensed the magic and joined the fun, studying this leprechaun and his trio of fairy friends, as mesmerized as any dog has ever been. Her fixation on them – even trying at one point to take the leprechaun by the beard and run off with him – lightened the mood and made us all laugh.

Sources say that there are no female leprechauns, and that these little magical creatures are the unwanted children of the fairy family – – grouchy, closed off, and untrusting. With their stubborn, curmudgeonly, cranky attitudes, even leprechauns need someone to show them some love – trouble is, they have a hard time accepting it.

I have reasons for understanding the close relative of the leprechaun in folklore – the Clurichaun, drunk and surly beings who are known for clearing out entire wine cellars. And I must admit: I, myself, a mere human, along with my brother and sister in law, had broken into some wine over the weekend. But let’s be real – – the leprechauns drive them to it.

There comes a time in life when all children can do is clap if we believe in fairies, to envision Mary Martin as Peter Pan rallying us along, to hope the lights don’t fade too quickly.

Jo Jo checking out the leprechaun and fairy trio

March 8: 8:44-9:15 I Met a Most Convincing Leprechaun

they’re everywhere, these fairies

sprites, gnomes, pixies, elves, imps

even leprechauns

a whole aisle in Ace Garden Center

devoted to miniature magicians

and I’m in trouble, I know

I need to get out of this place

at least off this aisle

because nothing thrills me

more than a fairy garden

and I might spend too much

so I buy two spider plants

the best plants for

improving sleep

for clean air in homes

and leave the fairies

for now….but

I may be back this afternoon

for some of them

who seem to want

to live in my plants

on the front porch

with the others

especially this one leprechaun

who whispers that

he can’t be left homeless

this month, says he knows

I have a shamrock

and promises extra good luck

if he can come join my wonderland

of fairies in my porch plants~

friends of his, he claims

then springs up to my shoulder

murmurs in my ear a well-known

fact: I know your weakness

…..your one little word doesn’t

work on fairies.….

you can never have enough

yes, I’m deep in fairy trouble

because I’ll be back

March 6: 7:40-8:11 a.m. Workday Arrival in the Cubicle

My work space

One of the most beautiful things about a writing group is that you often know the people in your circles better than those who work ten feet from you every day. And when your groups intersect so that you slice together, take on The Stafford Challenge together, and write poems at Ethicalela together too, you look forward to your small group Zoom times where you write and share face-to-face from the east coast to the west coast and two states in between.

That’s what happened last night. I didn’t join a small group for The Stafford Challenge last year, but when Barb Edler suggested that we form our own small group with more flexible scheduling, she took the lead in setting up our Zoom meetings so that Denise Krebs, Glenda Funk and I could all meet to write, share, and keep in touch. So in our Zoom last night, Glenda introduced a prompt that invited us to write definition poems. A special thanks to Glenda for the inspiration – and to Denise, Barb, and Glenda for suggesting a better ending for the second definition! Cheers to writing friends who inspire us and keep us writing in community. Since I’m slicing through increments of time throughout the day, I chose to write about my cubicle today.

cubicle (n.) – 1. an open place where I always feel I’m being watched. There’s no privacy here with two on-screen llamas, a whispering plant, the eyes of the family photos, everyone who walks by, the general webinar population, the parking lot parents who can see in the windows, and probably, probably cameras everywhere. 2. a limiting space to sit and work the day away but never, never my home away from home.

March 3: 6:04-6:35 – The Brain Awakens to Face the Day in a Septuple Nonet

(scroll quickly, vertically, to catch the brain wave working)…….

just finding two matching shoes to wear

or not spraying the walls with the

Water Pik, …..and Cranberry

Orange breakfast scones with

piping loose leaf tea

awakenings

are hallmarks

of bright

starts

plus

Wordle

Connections

Spelling Bee for

a brain-charged challenge

keeping synapses sharp

– these are my routine morning things

right here in rural middle Georgia

and writing friends across the nation

who inspire me to do new things:

like humbleswede, whose camper

postcards will now be mailed

and Glenda Funk, who

inspires me to

travel the

world with

new

eyes

(and to

hug my old

rescued Schnoodles),

Margaret Simon

whose baby ducks on jump

day always bring a teared smile,

and Denise Krebs, whose Mojave

desert hikes are calling my name now…

Fran Haley, my birdwatching sister

one state north in a same-named town,

wordancerblog’s March food fest

keeps tempting my tastebuds,

Sally Donnelly’s

city sights and

book talks make

me want

to

read

on a

sunny park

bench, Barb Edler

whose slam poetry

competitions inspire

me to buy tickets to a

poetry event on a stage

in Atlanta this coming April

and so many more fellow writers

whose blog are a source of daily

inspiration this month, all

awaken my brain, inspire

me to get out and live

to try new things I

wouldn’t have done

without a

friendly

nudge

Cheers to. you from my mug of green pomegranate tea

March 1: 5:00-5:31 a.m. – Awakening All Sense

Handmade soap from Green Willow

Welcome to the first day of the 2025 Slice of Life Writing Challenge, where bloggers post each day of the month. You can find the home page with links to blogs across the world here. I’m writing about things that happen in time increments this year, described in yesterday’s post.

Awakening All Sense


I smack snooze a time or two

reluctantly rise

feel the sweat of the night

still lingering from the

warmth of our

blue velour blankets

piled three layers high

smell the morning citrus soap before

I ever see it, the

exhilarating orange

cream bar that

heightens all senses

awakens all sense

our nation needs this orange

not the other