And God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years….
I think of things having an appointed time in the rhythm of life when I consider the verses in Ecclesiastes that are so iconic to seasons and turning.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
Rhythms and cycles play an important role in balance and harmony of living. Having a rhythm to each day, each week, each month is an important part of life, whether we are working or retired – rhythms are like schedules, habits, and time management. One of the first things I had to do in retirement was create new routines. A new prayer time topped my list, since my prayer chamber used to be my drive in to work and now that I’m not going there anymore, I needed a new designated time that would be consistent. I chose coffee time since there is a rhythm to that regularity and, to some degree, a consistent morning time frame – – and, like coffee, I need prayer at the top of the day. I have discovered in this new routine that I like to see steam rising from my mug as I say prayers, as if what is coming from my lips is swirling in a steam mist upwards to heaven in the quiet, relaxed rhythms of the morning.
HELLO! and HELP!
someone stranded
on a desert island
sends smoke signals
I send prayers
from the porch
fresh from my lips
vapors rising
to heaven
A special thanks to Ramona for hosting this month and inspiring us to think of the rhythms in our spiritual lives.
I enjoy making fabric postcards for the Poetry Postcard Fest
Ahhh, the month of the Autumnal Equinox when we officially welcome fall and the cooler temperatures begin to tease us. Hobby Lobby has been tempting us for months to put out all the colors and scents, and grocery stores have been selling pumpkin spice everything for weeks on end, but this month assures us we can accept all those invitations to put the leafy wreath on the front door and invite fall into our homes, along our stair rails, and into our hearts. We can start fluffing our sweatshirts and get out our boots. We can change our summer Birkenstocks for the fall and winter pairs.
With all the cool weather ahead, what could be a better way to celebrate this favorite season than by focusing on the art and beauty that surrounds us? This month, I’m participating in another poetry postcard exchange that may interest other poets as well. Here is the information about how those who’d like to participate can jump onboard for the next round starting in October (see the photo below). This one is free, unlike Cascadia, and it’s fun to send out poems and receive postcards from all over the world. It’s a great opportunity to create small works of art on postcards to share with others.
Simply email Barbara Robinette at rosablue722@gmail.com for more information. Join the fun, and celebrate postcard poetry! And if you don’t want to join the postcard group but would still like a postcard with a poem, I’m happy to send you one! Just email your address to Kimjohnson66@gmail.com
Sometimes when I’m going somewhere, I pray for a parking space before I ever pull into the parking lot. Lord, show me the way to a space to park. I often quip that I must be doing something right when the Lord blesses me with a good one. And the other way around when He doesn’t.
Same is true of Thursday afternoon when I went on a mission to see if I could get tickets to the Dolly Parton tribute at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee before they all sold out. I said a prayer and got two tickets. The kennel had space to board our four-legged sons, and there were hotel rooms available right across the street from the Opry, on Music City Drive and McGavock Pike.
I‘ve done something right.
And I’ll keep right on trying.
Thank you, Lord! Amen.
This day takes me back through the years of coming to the Grand Ole Opry. My husband’s former company was based in Nashville. He came up several times a year to meet with the team and get the company truck serviced, and each time he came I’d ask to ride along so we could go to the Opry. In those days, I was working on another degree and spent quiet days in the hotel with stronger wifi and more free coffee than my rural area offered while he went to work, and then he’d swing by and pick me up for dinner before the show. Or, if I finished working or needed a break, I was close enough to tarry over to Opry Mills Mall. It’s where I bought my first pair of Birkenstocks and where my older daughter worked at The Rainforest Cafe for years. (She had just moved to Antioch when the Christmas morning bomb exploded in the building right next to where they had lived in downtown Nashville. Ironically, the bomber had lived in Antioch. I was blessed that she was safe).
This visit to the Opry hits much differently. A legend, among the greatest humans who ever lived, gained her wings last week. She knew poverty, and she knew the rags of hard life before she ever knew the riches – which is quite literally depicted in her Coat of Many Colors and its triumphant story. She worked her way up with elbow grease and talent, blessing, and an almighty Godwink. And she has done more for Literacy in this area of the United States than anyone with her Imagination Library, inspired by her father’s inability to read and write and knowing that it would take someone with a big heart and deep pockets for some of the children of Appalachia to have a fighting chance to be literate.
I was listening to some audiobook previews to help one of my book club sisters choose a Dolly Parton book for October, and all the way up my husband and I listened to Dolly Parton, Songteller, a book about the stories of Dolly’s life and how certain moments became the inspiration for her songs. My husband was behind the wheel of the car but “along for the ride” on the audiobook, as he often is about books when we travel – and he is always a good sport about it, too. But something captured him about this one. Once we’d arrived and checked in to the hotel, he asked me to turn the audiobook back on during our rest time before we went over to the Opry.
As we made our way through the lines and into the Opry, we took in all the many different ways people arrive for this event – not just in the cars, Ubers, and taxis, but also in manner of dress. Denim shorts, tank top, cowboy boots and hat. Shorts, tshirt with butterfly wings attached, and sandals. Leather skirt just south of what it needed to cover, tank top just north, and fringed vest with silver glitter knee boots and matching cowboy hat. Jeans, sneakers, and a plain t-shirt. Formal gowns of all colors, mostly pink for the evening. I started thinking that maybe the girls’ adventure book club trip after reading the Songteller should be to come to Nashville and shop for glitter boots and cowgirl hats and then come to the Opry.
The show was just as Dolly would have wanted it to be – people remembering her through story and sharing what she meant to them. And somehow, the always-eclectic mix of talent at the Opry from the legends to the newcomers was evident…..and, of course, they all had stories of Dolly. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house when T. Graham Brown stepped onstage in a pink and silver sequined coat and sang Beulahland (25:12 in the Youtube link below). One who needed tissues throughout the show was the woman seated next to me. She was Dolly’s age and had grown up visiting Opryland all her life and continued the tradition when she had her own children. She’d lost her husband five years ago, and her son and his wife had flown her to the show in their small plane. She shared how they had feverishly worked to get tickets on Thursday also and how thrilled they were to get them and make the last-minute trip. There were as many stories in the crowd as there were on the stage, as there are throughout the world.
Favorite and least favorite moments from us? My husband’s least favorite moment was when Jelly Roll came out “after such a classy show, and then he had to roll out at the end and wreck it.” I didn’t have a least favorite; I loved every minute of that show. My husband’s favorite moment was all of it except Jelly Roll. I liked that Belle Frantz sang from her heart with such passion and got a standing ovation on her Opry debut (46:10 in the link below). She shared that her first album is coming out in November, and that it’s scary to release one – – particularly a gospel album – -but that she felt bold enough to do it and took her inspiration from Dolly. I was stuck by how much she reminded me of Patsy Cline.
You can watch the YouTube of the show here and discover your own favorite and least favorite moment.
Each time I see the circle, taken from the original Ryman Auditorium downtown, I get a little misty eyed at the significance and reasons that it was installed – to preserve the sacred space of the Country music greats who have all stood here. I’ve watched the 100th Anniversary a hundred times and can hear the song and the chorus of voices singing it – Will the circle be unbroken, by and by, Lord, by and by….there’s a better home awaiting in the sky, Lord, in the sky. I think of the history of Dolly Parton’s presence on that stage, and the way she could immediately connect with her audience, and the way that even in her absence, her Opry family connected with her – giving her the final performance of the evening. I think of this night of tribute and the many more that her musical family are offering, like Pink’s. And so many more ways she is being honored all across the nation and the world.
Of all the great Opry moments we have missed, I’m glad that last night was not one of them. I always leave looking forward to the next visit to The Grand Ole Opry.
Retirement officially began four weeks ago, and there are both upsides (travel in the RV) and downsides (having to replace a wheel – not a tire – on the RV) to this new chapter. At the beginning of my first week off, I used a green spiral notebook like the one in the image above to make a list of all the things I wanted to do — something enjoyable each week, blending in some new hobbies and routines as well.
Here are some things I’ve enjoyed in my first official four weeks of retirement, as teachers and students have returned to school (#1-7 I blogged about two weeks ago):
1. Mahjong 101
2. Rag Quilting
3. Morning Walking
4. Yoga
5. Friends of the Library Book Fair –
6. Local Bookstore Book Club
7. Summer Reading Poetry Book Club
The past couple of weeks have included two getaways in the Wayfarer along with a few other new endeavors. Everyone kept asking what I would do in retirement, and I’m so eager to share the ways I’m enjoying it! I have 100 things on my list…..so I continue sharing the list:
8. Postcard Poetry Fest – I signed up to send at least 31 postcards out to those who joined the Postcard Poetry Fest 2026. I have written over 31 original poems and have mailed them to my assigned recipients. It has been exciting receiving postcards from all around the world – many with original works of art on them by the artists. I’ll share the postcards I mailed and many of the ones I received in the coming months.
9. Wayfaring to FDR for camping….and…..10. Wayfaring to Margaritaville for a concert – We went to our favorite nearby state campground for a weekend on a remote campsite and enjoyed the fun and frustration of an unplanned hike. The following weekend, we took the Wayfarer to Lake Lanier to camp at Margaritaville RV Resort and saw the Eagles tribute band The Long Run. We rented a golf cart to get to the venue, and we learned the next morning that Boo Radley is not a candidate for riding in the golf cart because he cannot mind his own damn business and loses his mind and acts a fool.
11. Mahjong 102 and Free Play – I added a new segment of learning Mahjongg by attending the second course of lessons and engaged in an evening of open play at the McDonough Truett’s Restaurant with my friend Christian. We are riding around places meeting new friends and sharing the joys of “going Mahjongg.” I won my first game last Friday, and Christian swept all three games the night we drove over to McDonough.
12. Zinnia Arrangement – my sister-in-law who grows zinnias has brought me several batches, and I love arranging and rearranging them in my mother’s pitchers. I received an extra-special arrangement when I checked the mail last week. My friend Glenda Funk from Idaho created a watercolor painting of zinnias when I wrote a poem about them, and she framed the print with my poem as a retirement gift, along with a gorgeous boho blanket from Natural Life, a really cool pen and toothbrush holder, and a bracelet from Thailand – and the most heartfelt card ever! I shed tears of joy opening it, thinking of my friend who is so giving and has been suffering such pain in her leg lately. These are treasures I will cherish – so personal and meaningful.
13. Fabric Postcards – I’ve been working on creating fabric postcards for Postcard Poetry Fest for the next round. I sent out a few to see how they would hold up in the mail, and my small group of Stafford Challenge writers all received them and they held up fine.
14. Porch Sitting – I’ve enjoyed late morning coffee with my sister-in-law Bethany and an evening visit with my friend Jayne, who brought me a retirement t-shirt gift. Porch sitting and visiting is a great way to adjust pacing.
15. Lounge Pants Spree – I ordered lounge pants for each day of the week so that at least I could change into clean pajamas each day, but I ended up keeping only one set. I’ll add them more gradually so I can be sure of the fit instead of ordering online. My writing friend Margaret is changing my thinking, though. She says she replaced loungewear with activewear, and perhaps I should consider the same. There are some yoga pants that do not fit quite as tight as leggings, and those would work for me better than the tighter fit.
16. Novel Writing with Nick – I met a friend and fellow writer in Eastman, a couple hours south of here, to go through the first round of edits for the unfinished book left by my father that we are co-authoring. We look forward to bringing this novel to print in the coming months.
17. Kindred Spirits Book Club – I have a Goodreads personal goal of 60 books this year – – (it’s fitting….it’s the year of 60)…..and my Kindred Spirits sisters (missing one of us in the photo below who are the regulars) and I met at our local coffee shop to discuss the August selection: Dear Debbie by Freida McFadden. Our book choice for September is The Sideways Life of Denny Voss. Currently, I’m finishing Mad Mabel by Sally Hepworth and I can’t turn the pages fast enough to see what happens next.
18. Barnes and Noble Virtual Book Club – I was looking for a way that my daughter in Nevada and I could connect in a book club, so we participated in the reading of a Brazilian thriller author’s latest book, The Secret Dinner. We downloaded the book on a Tuesday and had 48 hours to read it before the Barns and Noble Monday Mystery event. It’s definitely a great way to participate with family readers across the miles. The novel was disturbing in its subject matter, but reading outside the comfort zone is what readers do sometimes.
Over the next couple of weeks, we will be busy. One excursion that we will take this weekend will likely be one of my favorites of all time….. (hint: It will take place in Nashville, Tennessee on Saturday night).
Here’s a secret I’ve been holding back: Dad left an unfinished manuscript, and it looks like it’s going to make it to print. For years, he’d been telling folks that he was working on a book. He shared snippets here and there of the plot line and the general story, rooted in the setting of a second home he and Mom owned along the Sapelo River down in McIntosh County.
At his funeral and visitation services in June 2025, many people asked what would become of the book. My brother and I searched his computer and found a few threads of story ideas for this book, but nothing more than a few scattered breadcrumbs. And then our good family friend Nick Doster, the last person to sit with Dad before he died and who brought him the Braves cap he’s buried in, produced an outline with story notes.
More like a piece of bread than a breadcrumb. But still far short of a loaf. Then, Nick offered to work with me to finish the book….which, really, felt more like starting the book by sowing the seeds of ideas and hundreds of tiny quilt squares together to see where the patterns emerged. Like me, Nick is always reading and writing. His most recent book is a western, and he has been talking with the screenwriters about a screenplay, which has consumed a lot of his time lately. Getting to retirement has consumed a lot of mine. So for about six months now, we’ve been working here and there, chatting on weekends and plugging in August as the time we’d get together to do our first productive round of editing of the whole manuscript.
The Bean in Eastman, Georgia was the halfway point for both of us, so we picked a day and met there. We took over the coffee shop and the free wifi yesterday to chisel away a few more steps toward the finish line. We’re still far from finished, but the fun of writing is another part of retirement that makes me happy. These large chunks of time to be able to write and think and edit are a great way to spend a day.
Today? A little more editing, a search for more comfortable swivel stools with backs for the Mahjongg table, a morning walk on the treadmill before it’s too hot, and a great movie my aunt recommended on Netflix for later this afternoon: Arthur the King. I’m so glad I didn’t wait to retire – – what a blessing to have the gift of time to spend the days doing what we love!
One of the things I’ve looked most forward to in retirement is an unhurried pace to be able to enjoy time together with family and friends with a sense of full presence and my mind not on a million other things I’ve got to get done. Since I have retired, that has happened more and more. I’m not checking the time as much. One day I even had to think about what day it was. That’s a nice feeling. It’s got me thinking about all those dementia checks they give older people by asking them what year it is. There might be better questions for that, since I think that one is a little biased against retirees. We don’t care, and we don’t want to keep up with those minor details anymore.
My husband and stepson
In the past week alone, we’ve met family members for meals and spent time around tables catching up on life and enjoying food and fellowship. We picked up a grandson and took him to Longhorn Steakhouse to talk golf, life happenings, and what he’s reading in school – The Crucible, and how the classic witch-hunt still happens. We have celebrated a birthday with my stepson two counties northwest of us and met my aunt and uncle an hour north of us for lunch because they’ve been hoping to see our RV and see how we set it up. We met my stepson at Il Porto Di Venezia in Senoia (where The Walking Dead was filmed) and found a parking lot with both a Panera and a Barnes and Noble (places to fill two appetites AND space to demonstrate setup of the RV for dry camping) to meet my aunt and uncle.
And besides all the time around tables with those we love, retirement offers the blessed gift of time to browse and pick the books I want to read next. I’ll be meeting Tayari Jones next month when she comes to a University of Georgia campus near me to talk about her latest book, Kin.
Yes, the unhurried pace is the best thing about retirement. Someone told me it would be sleep, but for me it’s the quality of the time awake that I get to enjoy in this chapter.
One of these will be my next book…..I’ll see the author in September at University of Georgia Griffin Campus for a book talk.
Humorist Erma Bombeck titled one of her books When You Look Like Your Passport Photo, It’s Time To Go Home. It’s a compilation of hilarious travel essays and global anecdotes. We haven’t been anywhere far away since I’ve retired, and already I look like my passport photo. It was renewal time, and while we don’t have any definite plans yet to visit Iceland or Ireland or even Canada, we like to keep our options open just in case the opportunity arises. My brother and sister-in-law took a Viking cruise out of Amsterdam down through French Wine Country a couple of Augusts ago, and they’ve been urging us to consider a river cruise. My heart leans toward Iceland or some Scandinavian place where I have to bundle up like a real Viking just to breathe the air and can go inside to cozy up by a rip-roaring fire.
Sometimes, the dream is as exciting as the reality. There is a word for this: resfeber. It’s a Swedish noun that refers to the feelings of all the excitement of travel before it ever begins. If I ever write a travel book, it will have this word somewhere in the title or subtitle.
I’m feeling sparks of resfeber this week because when our latest Georgia Magazine came out, I did what I always do: I thumbed to the section of upcoming events throughout the state and discovered that The Long Run, an Eagles tribute band, would be performing at Lake Lanier in Buford, Georgia on August 22. I snapped up two tickets and reserved a lake spot campsite at Margaritaville so we can drive the Wayfarer up on Saturday and take our Schnoodles to a new place we’ve never camped, full of all-different smells for them to enjoy. I do think that this is what they love most about being camping dogs – – taking in the world through their noses.
Next, I’ll make sure our Eagles t-shirts are clean and ready to wear. We got matching ones when we flew out to see them perform at The Sphere in Las Vegas this past February. We’ll wear those to see the tribute band.
Once a month, our Kindred Spirits book club meets at our local coffee shop on the Zebulon, Georgia courthouse square to discuss our monthly pick. Last year, we chose our next book month by month when we met to discuss the current book. This year, we each brought two book choices and created a schedule for the year so that we could read ahead if we finished our book ahead of time.
We are a group of six colleagues who became reading sisters through shared interest and choice, and even though two of us have retired and one has taken a position in a different place of employment, we still come back together to read, discuss, and have adventures together.
We discuss reading guide questions, but we always ask what the book inspired us to do and how it changed our lives. Generally, there is some kind of adventure that follows – whether it is to see the movie or do some kind of activity mentioned in the book. For example, after reading The Book Club Hotel by Sarah Morgan last December, we decided to take our own girls’ winter getaway and will be doing that in January 2027 to a place a couple hours north of where we live, where there will be a big fireplace so we can lounge around sipping coffee or Kindred Spirits cocoa concoctions and have girl time in our pajamas and talk about books and life and go shopping. We haven’t named our book-related adventure for Dear Debbie yet, but we all decided that it will not involve infesting anyone’s rose garden with Japanese Beetles or using poppy seeds to impair anyone’s faculties. Nor will it involve visiting any fraternity houses.
If any readers have suggestions about what to consider reading for 2027, please share! We follow Goodreads and The Book Girls and are always looking for our next great read.
We were missing one of our sisters at last night’s club meeting at our local coffee shop
Our host today for the third and final day of the August Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Joanne Emery, who inspires us to write poems about being deep in nature and the sensory and inner feelings associated with it. You can read her full prompt, and the poems of others, here. My poem today will follow the photos of our trail walk we took on Saturday.
Over the weekend, we took our two four-legged sons Boo Radley and Ollie to F. D. Roosevelt State Park for a quick getaway in the Wayfarer. While there, we took a hike along Mountain Creek Trail, and even though it was hot, the shade provided a respite from the extreme temperatures and the heat advisory in effect.
We like to start the day at the top of the mountain with a picnic breakfast overlooking the valley below Pine Mountain. Where many campers cook full breakfasts on outdoor kitchens, we like to take the easy route and buy coffee and muffins at the registration center and find a picnic table. The boys expect bites of blueberry muffin, and sometimes we cave in to their pressure.
The hike begins with Briar and Boo Radley in the lead, and Ollie and I follow. We make sure they stay on leashes in case we encounter other critters – human, canine, or reptilian, or other – on the trails. On Saturday, we did not meet or pass one other person. In fact, the trail was eerily silent of birdsong, traffic, voices, and even rustling of leaves in the wind.
The different types of mushrooms are always fascinating to me, including this one that is a shelf/bracket fungus that is either turkey tail or a lookalike. We also saw several patches of bright orange colored chicken of the woods and oyster mushrooms as well.
F. D. Roosevelt State Park has a naturalist who offers foraging classes on occasion when mushrooms are bountiful, and I have always wanted to attend the session and learn more about mushrooms and their benefits. I would still be reluctant to eat a wild mushroom, but I’d love to learn more about them.
Getting across the bridges is always interesting. Boo Radley hesitates and sometimes decides to go around the side. Ollie never hesitates and always turns around to be sure I made it across safely once he’s on the other side (how your dog tells you you’re old without telling you you’re old). Even though they’re schnoodles, they have the sense of adventure of sled dogs sometimes – they put themselves in four-wheel drive and pull us along.
They like to play in the streams, and as long as the water is running clear, we let them. On Saturday, they took drinks and walked around to cool off when we took a short break to let them play in the creek.
The natural ferns speak to me in whispers of my mother, reminding me I’m fortunate not to have crippling anxiety, my father echoing her: stress is a killer, I can hear him say. But not in these woods, not on this trail, not deep in nature. Nature heals.
I’m surprised I remembered the fairy tree door, but I knew when I reached the top of one hill that it would be on the other side. Sure enough, it was there, protecting the forest treasures inside – fairies, woodland critters, swag for those who take one and leave one.
And I kept watching for signs of fall in all the heat. Here and there, dotting the trail, were red or yellow leaves. I picked up several fallen acorns and put them in my pocket. I reflected on yesterday’s post about Noah and his wife, and the hope God sends in leaves. Yes, my answer is clear: God does still send hope in leaves. Ask and ye shall receive.
On Mountain Creek Nature Trail, Saturday August 15
Patricia Franz, our host today for the second day of the August 2026 Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com, lives with her husband and her Bernese Mountain dog, splitting her time between the Arizona desert and California’s Sierra Nevada mountains. She continues the nature theme in our poetry prompts today. Like yesterday’s host Denise Krebs, she has two poems in  Picture Perfect Poetry: An Anthology of Ekphrastic Nature Poetry for Students, the inspiration for yesterday’s and today’s prompts. You can find more of her poetry at www.patriciajfranz.com.
You can hop over to the site to read the exact prompt and see the pictures, but Patricia inspires us to write a nature poem today with this story: Two years ago, she snapped a photo of a mama bear. Over the course of a few days, she had begun to forage closer and closer to Patricia’s house. Then one morning as dawn broke, she awoke to find her and her two cubs rummaging through the kitchen! She wondered what the bear would say if it could speak, inspiring writers to consider various perspective and viewpoints as we write our poems today.
My mind tumbled for a while over these possibilities, and I almost always go to the kitchen table and all the spiritual ancestors who surely still lurk in moments allowed by Heaven. But we’d recently had something happen that offered a different perspective too. In the late summer evenings, the sun hits the kitchen wall with an orange glow, beckoning us out to the back porch to gaze in awe at its glorious swan dive beneath the trees on the far back side of the farm. We hadn’t anticipated the tangerine glow one evening last week after all the afternoon storms, but sure enough – it appeared, and we stepped out to take it all in. After a few moments, I noticed the hummingbird feeder needed refilling, so I grabbed the nectar and gave it a pour. Then we wondered about the feeders out front, so we went to check those too.
As I was unhooking a feeder, my husband whispered, “Come look at this.” A double rainbow stretched from the north side of the farm all the way across the south side. The hummers would have to wait – – I put it all down and ran for my phone to take photos! By the time I returned, the top bow had dissolved, but I managed to capture a photo of the full stretch of the bottom bow. Every time I think about rainbows, I think about Noah and the Great Flood. There are two trees left in the front yard after the harvesting of timber in 2025, and they struck me like Noah and his wife looking out over the land after the floodwaters dissipated. That’s what inspired today’s poem. I chose a nonet form, which begins with 9 syllables and decreases by one syllable on each line.
Common Threads 