Last night was another fabulous night observing one of our resident Great Horned Owls on the Johnson Funny Farm here in rural middle Georgia. Usually the pair arrives together, but last night it was one lone owl putting on a show. I have been slipping out to the front porch around 7:45 each evening, armed with my camera, binoculars, and eBird app on my phone. I sit on one of the loveseats on the porch, as still and quiet as I can be. The owls fly in from the west side of the farm and hang out right at the top of the driveway in the clearing. They swoop from ground to tree, then down from tree to ground, looking for prey.
This morning, I’m sharing these photos I took last night. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them. Be sure to zoom in on the one with the flag – the yellow eyes are mesmerizing!
I didn't want to leave our hotel -
prairie dogs were entertaining
me to no end, their antics
suspicious, unaware
of our eyes on them
skittering, then
standing still,
taking
ground
How
could a
famous row
of graffiti'ed
buried Cadillacs
come close to competing
with Amarillo Sunrise
prairie dogs in their merriment
of this Tru hotel fenced-in playground?
7:15 a.m. – I was sitting in my camp chair at Hamburg State Park in Mitchell, Georgia wrapped in a white fleece blanket, drinking black coffee from my favorite oversized Snoopy Halloween mug. 64 degrees of hot flash heaven! The smoke from the neighbor’s fire last night was still rising in spiral-y wisps from the pit, scenting the air of burnt wood. My clothes didn’t match today, and I didn’t care – floral shirts and a tie dye t-shirt. I had a bad hair day, too, and that was fine with me. And no makeup to top it all off.
8:00 a.m. – Across the lake, I spied a lone angler in a jon boat, fishing the uninhabited wilderness island shoreline in his sun hat. Hamburg State Park is said to be the most remote of all Georgia State Parks, and forgetting the WiFi hotspot was at first disappointing, but then it wasn’t. My husband had found himself a Harlan Coben book in the Little Free Library, and I’d done some reading and writing, too. But at that moment, he was still snug in the camper, wedged in like tire chocks by 3 snoozing Schnoodles who like to be cozy in the covers.
8:30 a.m. – In the far distance, I heard the boom of gunfire and my heart wept for the doves losing lives and mates. Dove hunting season just opened in Georgia. Don’t even get me started.
9:15 a.m. – A middle-aged woman wearing a mid-calf navy skirt, a gray sweatshirt, and a pair of laceless Keds that reminded me of my grandmother’s Grasshoppers walked a slow-moving Border Collie mix along the camp drive, neither in a hurry to be anywhere. A bald man on a white e-Bike sped past, then a man on a regular bike, turquoise with a basket, eased by and tossed a morning greeting hand in the air, smiling big like the fresh air exhilarated him from the inside out. I smiled and waved back.
9:30 a.m. – We had one of those neighbors this time – you know, the kind with the voice that carries all through the campground, informing everyone across all 30 campsites of her daughter’s Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, the current plight of her own insurance woes, and a cousin’s wedding episodes of family members who didn’t get along ruining the day. It takes a good bit to really get on my nerves, but I came very close to standing up and shouting FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS PEACEFUL, WILL YOU P L E A S E STOP TALKING???? Her husband kept taking the dog for a walk – a little dachshund puppy in a red sweater – telling it, “Heel, Heel.” And I didn’t blame him one bit.
A leaf twirls groundward from a water oak
9:45 a.m. – An occasional leaf turned loose from a branch and twirled to the ground from the water oaks lining the lake, and every now and then a fish broke the surface, ploonking back into the water as its silvery scales flashed a watery hello. The Blue Jays were the other loudmouths on this campground, and yet I understand their marked presence – and purpose – there with all those oaks and acorns now that I’ve read Slow Birding by Joan Strassman.
9: 50 a.m. – My husband emerged from the camper and had finished reading his book. He was ready for his typical breakfast of graham crackers and plain Chobani Greek yogurt, with coffee. I fixed my yogurt with fresh diced peaches, and we talked about the (probably) 5,000 pictures of the sunset I took (quietly) from the campsite over the weekend.
10:00 – Neither one of us wanted to leave. We were just ready to see the noisy neighbors pull out. He asked, “Is it just me, or did this trip seem a lot more relaxing than any camping trip we’ve ever taken?” I assured him it wasn’t just him – that we really did relax deeply, and that tomorrow we’d be back at work – – but that for today, we were savoring this Labor Day as we celebrate of all the workers who make our country an amazing place to live.
We raised our mugs to working hard so that we can play hard, too.
I’ve been reading Ada Limon’s poetry lately, and with the death of Jimmy Buffet yesterday, I’ve been blending poetry and thought and music together in a grief vortex as I sit on my Labor Day campsite by the lake in Georgia. Limon’s poem “Anticipation” inspired my use of her format for today’s Buffet thoughts.
I Don’t Know
…. before the strawberry
Aguas Frescas,
before the dog fight
next door,
when the black dragonfly
flashed its gossamer
wings, preening
in the sun
teasing a mate,
I was
humming Buffet,
lost in Margaritaville
~ ooh, Jolly Mon sing,
oooh, make Orion ring~
fins to the left,
fins to the right,
wondering where
I’m a gonna go
when the volcano
blows….
By far, the most uplifting group I have joined as an educator is Sarah Donovan’s writing group at EthicalELA. Our book discussions and writing times have been both professionally and personally enriching. The networks and friendships formed with some of the top experts in the field have challenged my thinking and opened my eyes about the importance of writing alongside students and the importance of choice in reading.
Someone in our group once said, “Teachers of writing should be writers, writing and sharing the journey with students.” We all froze at the weight of the simple power of this truth, letting it seep into our souls.
Today, I am sharing an article that I wrote for http://www.ethicalela.com as a guest blogger. You can read my article here.
Enjoy these ideas as you consider your own reading identity. And share a book blessing in the comments below!
Here’s my own book blessing: I’m reading Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. This is the next book in Sarah’s reading group The Healing Kind, which we will be discussing on September 17th in our Zoom meeting. Come join us! Details are here. I like it because I love the idea of time travel, and of course I enjoy imagining a cup of coffee in a quiet little cafe with all the magic it brings. I think anyone who enjoyed reading The Midnight Library by Matt Haig would like to read this book.
At the end of each month, (or beginning), I review my yearly goals and spend some time reflecting on how I’m doing in living the life I want to live ~ a way of becoming my own accountability partner and having frequent check-ins to evaluate my progress. I’m still in the process of revising some of my goals as I encounter successes…..and setbacks. New goals have asterisks for the month of September, when I will report on them in a few weeks. For the month of August here’s my goal reflection:
Category
Goals
My Progress
Literature
Read for Sarah Donovan’s Book Group
Send out Postcards
Blog Daily
Write at least 2 chapters for writing group’s book
I participated in the August book discussion with Sarah’s reading group and am almost finished with the September book – Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. I’ll participate in this book discussion on September 17th.
I haven’t sent out any postcards this month, but I visited in person to meet my newest granddaughter.
I continue to blog daily, and the daily writing and reflecting is a wonderful habit for me. I don’t feel complete without some form of daily writing, and the blog is a way of continuing the habit.
My writing group is writing a series of new books, and I will spend time editing the chapters we have written. I will continue to add chapters as we receive feedback from our proposals. This is a work in progress, but I have only edited this month and not written any new chapters. I edited based on feedback from Anna Roseboro, a well-published member of our group.
Creativity
*Make a rag quilt for a new grandbaby
*Create Shutterfly Route 66
I have a new granddaughter, and I’ve finished the rag quilt with the Nana tag on it. I’ll include a photo at the bottom of this post.
I created a video, but I didn’t accomplish this goal, so I’ll continue this one: I’ll create a canvas or two, along with a photo book using our Route 66 photos! Update: I still haven’t accomplished this goal. I need to get busy in Shutterfly.
Spirituality
Tune in to church
Pray!
Keep OLW priority
We have been tuning in to church. With Dad preaching every Sunday in October and a few Sundays ahead of that, it makes the church home hunt take a back seat until my childhood church gets a new preacher, since I have the opportunity to hear Dad.
My car is still my prayer chamber for daily prayer, and there’s so much to give thanks for. I continue my conversations with the good Lord each morning and afternoon.
I’m still keeping my OLW my priority: pray!
Reflection
Write family stories
Spend time tracking goals each month
I have shared family stories through my blog this month and will continue this month to do the same.
I’m tracking goals, revising, and considering some new categories as I look at my goal table.
Self-Improvement
*Reach top of weight range
This is a setback for me this month. I’ve hit major stress and gained weight, despite joining WW. I need to set a firm date and get the mental mindset that it takes to stay on track. I have work to do.
Gratitude
Devote blog days to counting blessings
Gratitude needs more time in September. I need to devote time to Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Gratitude Journal readings. I get busy and forget to truly commit time to thanking the Good Lord for all the blessings, even though I am grateful. Remembering to thank Him, while I do this in prayer, needs more emphasis in the moments of walking on the farm or driving through the beautiful countryside at sunset.
Experience
Embrace Slow Travel
Focus on the Outdoors
I’ve taken a trip in August to see the baby and now am finishing the month in Athens on a business trip. Both fast. Not slow and lingering as I would like. September will take us camping and possibly to visit a daughter, and I hope that we can slow down on those trips.
I’m still focusing on the outdoors with birdwatching adventures and camping. It’s the best time of the day to sit outside on the porch (in the shade) and just listen and watch what is going on around us. We have seen the owl several times this month.
When I attend conferences where I know leaders from other counties, I enjoy having dinner and catching up with them. Two of my friends from a neighboring county invited me to dinner with them last night in Athens, Georgia, and since one has had daughters who have attended the University of Georgia, she knows all the best places to eat.
Last night we ate at Chuck’s. I knew this was my kind of place when I asked for their Riesling list and the waiter recommended “Poet’s Leap” as the most delicious.
“I think that sounds lovely,” I nodded, approving his suggestion, resisting the urge to tell him exactly why that wine name appeals to every fiber of my being.
The menu was extraordinary. I ordered the salad, loaded with all the good things I hadn’t eaten all day, preferring junk food until this healthy option presented itself. Three bites into my salad, though, I had a major hot flash (it may or may not have been precipitated by the wine) and had to box it up and bring it back to the room to eat later.
We had the liveliest hotel shuttle driver. He’s a Communications major from Statesboro, and he hopes to attend Law School here after he graduates. He told us about the “special” sushi list that we didn’t know to ask for in Chuck’s. We’ll know next time to ask for it. All of their specialty rolls are on the menu that “normal” people don’t know exist.
On the way back, he told us that the fire department had just left our hotel building, because someone had gotten stuck in the elevator in Car 2. I thought he was joking around with us, since we are middle-aged teachers a little older than his mother, but when we got in the lobby we could see the Out of Order sign on the elevator.
A guest standing at the front desk urged us not to try to get in that one. “I was the one who got stuck,” he shared. We sympathized with him and imagined how helpless it must feel to be stuck in an elevator. One of my companions grew gravely concerned (sharing with us in real language how she really felt), but not concerned enough to walk that many flights of stairs.
So we took a true risk. We rode in near silence in Car 1, listening for anything out of the ordinary all the way up to our rooms before saying goodnight.
When I bring out my small suitcase I use for overnight conferences, my dogs all know I’m leaving. They know I’m going to shower them with love and treats after I load the car, but that’s not what’s important to them at the moment.
Boo Radley takes to the laundry room and sulks on his blanket by the window. (Later, my husband will text me with a photo of him staring down the driveway for my electric blue RAV-4, holding out hope I’ll be back before nightfall – – and he won’t come in until he’s picked up and brought inside). Ollie flattens out on the floor, chin to the ground and legs splayed parallel on both sides like an unstuffed animal in random places that make no sense.
But Fitz, my soul dog, gets clingy like a toddler suffering from severe separation anxiety. This baby actually whines, as if trying to convince me not to go.
“You’re leaving. I don’t want you to leave. Don’t go. Stay home.”
On these mornings when I settle in to try to write before I leave town, Fitz won’t stand for it. He gets between the computer and me and refuses to budge. This morning, he came clear over the coffee table between our chairs and wedged his way in between my keyboard and me.
I have to stop what I am doing to make time for my sweet boy, and remember that while he is a big part of my world, I’m his entire world. I have to reassure him again and again and again and again and again that I will be back. With yet another treat.
I look into his searching eyes that are begging me to change my mind. I tussle his ears and plant a kiss between his eyes.
“I’ve got to go out and earn a living, your Highness,” I remind him, “to take care of you three spoiled rotten Schnoodles who have become accustomed to all your treat expectations.”
This doesn’t humor him at all. It’s a very sad day here, and Fitz would like everyone to take a moment today to feel sorry for him. He’d like everyone reading this to please spend extra time with your dogs today, to give them treats and plenty of love, and to tell them that there are actual dogs out there whose people leave them for a day or two, and it’s just not right.
Common Threads 