coffee percolator gurgles
in Kentucky ~
time to
wake!
porch birdwatching:
focus,
take!
better morning
doesn’t
make
Kentucky Morning Zeno
Zeno for Sunrise
breathtaking sunrise in Georgia
walking three dogs
on the
farm
sipping coffee
waking
warm
peaceful solace
nature’s
charm
Falling for Nature
In recent days leading up to the first day of fall, I’ve been intentional about getting out and soaking up some nature time – driving, walking, sitting to just observe and appreciate the beauty of where we live and celebrate the changing season. My friend Margaret Simon commented this past week that she’d noticed many were lamenting the end of summer while I was heralding the onset of fall, and she inspired me to share some of the reasons I could live in the world of autumn year-round.
Ours is a small, rural county in middle Georgia with huge orange sunsets that dip down between the rolling hills, nuzzling down into an heirloom quilt for a good night’s sleep. Sometimes, we are “those people” who really do take Sunday afternoon drives with nowhere to have to be and no time to have to be there – just so we can take it all in!
A family of deer come along their path daily, walking along the edge of the trees. Their darker winter coats are starting to come in, and the babies are losing the last of their spots.
Mushrooms are growing along the rocks, and leaves are dropping in shades of red and yellow from the trees, spinning down to blanket the ground.
And spiders are becoming more plentiful – the big ones, spinning webs between trees, setting traps for unsuspecting prey. Somehow, they give off a Halloweenish vibe, especially as our resident bats circle overhead in the evenings.
The most hopeful time happens as the day begins when the sun is rising and the light infiltrates the trees, pounding down on the grass like a warmed oatmeal breakfast with a multivitamin and a glass of orange juice, turning on the light, greeting us all with an enthusiastic “Good Morning!” as it peels back the covers of night.
Redbirds lurk and loiter, running off the last of the small songbirds from the feeders as they migrate south. They’ve already laid claim to the feeders that will get them through the freezing winter ahead.
Monarchs and Black Swallowtails feast on the last remnants of the withered figs.
The American Crows and the Fish Crows, too, become more abundant. They sit on church steeples, thanking their maker for a reprieve from the brutal heat of the summer. Their caws stir in a dash of Poe.
Our pair of Great Horned Owls was visiting every night, but now they are in a different spot on the west side of the farm. We can still hear them, but they haven’t made themselves evident lately.
Even if I only spend ten minutes each day outdoors, I notice the small changes that are happening around me and feel grateful to be able to admire the transition from summer to fall. I’m choosing a tree this year to photograph every 5 days so that I can see the change as a time lapse once the leaves have all let go and the summer-to-winter transformation is complete. I can learn much from trees that shed worn leaves and bloom again fresh in the spring.
I take pictures and count the blessings of each magnificent and microscopic moment of beauty. How do you celebrate the changes as fall approaches? I’d love to hear all the ways we welcome the season!
Gratitude: Ansley’s Birthday
Today is my youngest child’s 30th birthday, and I could not be prouder of her! Happy Birthday, Ansley! Here’s an acrostic poem to celebrate you on your special day, using the letters of your name vertically to begin each line!
Ansley Claire Meyer
Artistic gifts galore
Nonnie – your nickname
Soloist extraordinare
Lloyd writer the on bathroom wall??
Expressive and sincere
Youthful spirit
Cherished daughter
Lover of coffee and books
Aunt of 6
In inches – 59 – (4’11”)
Restorer of furniture
Eye for fashion
Musically talented
Ever the quietest baby girl
You, child: coolest urban kazoo player EVER
Enthusiasm for life
Rock solid believer in God
He’s Home, all Healthy
Boo Radley gave us a scare this week. Our sevenish-year-old Parti Schnoodle who came into our lives as an abandoned, starving, severely matted rescue whose tangles were so horrible they nicknamed him Einstein, had a lump pop up over his left hip.
We went straight to the verge of panic, stopping short of it when the vet had a quick opening.
I dropped him off Thursday morning for some tests and left a skeptical, trembling Boo with the look of betrayal in his eyes in the caring hands of our veterinary clinic’s staff, who always greet us by name.
The call came during a state Zoom call when some of our students were presenting their projects on poverty to leaders across the state.
I shut off my camera and muted my microphone and took the call.
“Boo Radley is going to be fine,” the office assured me. “He has a lipoma, a benign tumor of fatty tissue.”
They’d performed a fine needle aspiration and examined the cells to be sure that they were not cancerous.
I picked him up after work, and as I was waiting for him to be brought up front, one of the veterinary technicians whispered, “I just want you to know how sweet your dog is. I was back there earlier, and I caught him looking at me with his big eyes, pleading with me to love on him. I opened his kennel and took him out and he showered me with kisses. He is one sweet boy!” This vet tech was a man, and Boo has always taken to men much more quickly than women. On the Schnoodle Facebook page, this seems to be a Schnoodle trait to prefer men.
He’d already forgiven me for leaving him by the time they handed him back to me. He caught a glimpse of the dog before him leaving, meandering with his family back to their car, and barked cuss words at them like a little banshee.
“This is ‘the other side’ of Boo Radley,” I pointed out. “Sweet boy can’t mind his own business. He has strong opinions and forces them on others.”
They chuckled and handed me the bill. I did not chuckle, and paid it.
As we neared the Johnson Funny Farm, I cracked the window so Boo could do his favorite thing – – sniff all the smells of the fauna and flora of the realm that is now his permanent place in the world – not a place of abandonment, but a place of love and belonging. The place where he will live out his full life, grow old, and cross the Rainbow Bridge someday. Just not today, thankfully.
I assured him when he got up this morning that he did not have to go back to the vet today. He went outside, did his business, and came in and had his blue jean time where he plays tug of war with the legs of my husband’s jeans for a moment, then had his treat. As I write at this very moment, Boo is snuggled by my right shoulder as he is each morning, snoozing in the comfort of the life he knows.
And my heart, too, is at peace.
September 2023 Poetry Marathon Day 1 of 5
Today, Stacey Joy of California is our host for the September Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. She is inspiring us to write odes today. I took inspiration from her poem and from Amy Van DerWater’s Dear Socks in writing an ode to the memories of my mother through the ways she still comes to me when I am missing her.
From Saturday through Wednesday, I will post the daily writing along with several other poems that were written during the poetry marathon I began yesterday morning at 8:00 a.m.. It ends at 8:00 this morning, and will contain one poem written each hour since then either by a friend/family member or by me. (Okay, I slept the night, but I wrote ahead and behind those hours of sleep because…..my meanness might have kicked in).
I’ll begin with today’s poem, written in the 6 a.m. hour, September 16, 2023: ODE – a poem of praise, often written directly to someone or something.
Memories of Miriam ~ An Ode – a poem of praise, often directly to a person or object
Dear Mom,
you come to me
in the missing
with tingly spots that
turn warm
in the heart,
help me exhale~ my
fingers circling my temples
bringing back
all the whens
of this Bernina
your fingers guiding
mine under the
foot, stitch by stitch
learning to sew
a lime green terrycloth
bathcover, now
sewing quilts
for your great grands
on your fine
Swiss machine
of hawks,
talons clutching wires
checking that
my seatbelt
is fastened
as I drive past,
shaking your pointing finger
if I forgot,
knowing that
whatever I’m
thinking at
that moment,
you’re there
in it
of strawberry figs,
last summer wave
just picked, my own
weakening fingers twisting
tender fruits free ~
canned this very
week, Mason jars
sealed tight
with summer’s
sweetened warmth
for coming winter
of spiced Russian tea,
the Tangy orange
and lemonade mixed
with clove, sugar
cinnamon and tea ~
a medicinal brush
of your invisible fingers
through my hair
in sore throat season
of rippled milkglass
with resurrection fern
springing to life
unfurling its brown
dry fingers
into open arms
green again
September 15, 2023 – The Kickoff – 8 a.m. hour – Kim Johnson
Haiku – a poem with three lines and seventeen syllables in 5/7/5 syllabicated lines
My Stir Stick
deep in the forest
a tiny tree takes root
reaches to sunlight
growing tall, falling
with a thud, destined to be
my coffee stir stick
September 15, 2023 – 9 a.m. hour – my son Marshall Meyer – Gogyoshi (a 5-line poem on any topic, and Marshall wrote two back to back gogyoshis, connected, about a recent fishing experience….and he wrote this within a half hour of when I requested a poem, which is what a poetry marathon experience is about – – birthing poetry meaningfully in a few intentional moments throughout the day). I’m so proud of him!
The experience is like no
other. The stalk and hunt is
on, wind and direction
matter. I’m in shin deep
water and the reds can feel
all vibrations.
Concentration is at an all
time high. Cast. The feel of
the exploding strike is like
no other.
September 15, 2023 – 10 a.m. hour – Found Poem by Kim Johnson – a Found Poem is a poem that is written by finding words on an existing page of print, lifting them out to stand alone as a poem. This one is taken from The Outsiders.
A Silent Moment
dawn mist
golden
gray to pink
a silent moment:
paint,
fresh in my mind,
like
nature’s flower;
down to day…
nothing can stay
September 15, 2023 – 11 a.m. hour – Jenga Poem – Kim Johnson
I let my son’s 9:00 poem inspire a title I found on a Jenga block and wrote this poem from the word blocks in my collection. To write a Jenga poem, select blocks and arrange them into a poem of words that stand alone or words that inspire lines mixed with your own words.
Casting a Line
choose your own
hopes for the future ~
murals unveiled:
ending or new beginning?
inspiring
another chance at life
every precious “breath”
how we have chosen
race against time
September 15, 2023 – Noon hour – Kim Johnson
Skinny – a poem with 11 lines, where first and last line repeat similarly in small number of words, and the rest of the lines have one word. Lines 2, 6, and 10 use the same word.
Owl
owl swoops down
gracefully
without
a
sound
gracefully
to
forest
ground
gracefully
owl swoops down
Celebrating a Birthday at Gibbs Gardens and Jaemor Farms
Yesterday was my sister-in-law’s birthday, so we loaded up the family and drive to Ball Ground, Georgia for a lovely day at Gibbs Gardens. The fall festivals all over North Georgia are just beginning in their early season, so we saw splendid late summer blooms as we strolled through the grounds and admired the first peeks of pumpkins along the roads.
We even saw a water snake enjoying a nap on the grassy bank of the creek that runs through the gardens!
After lunch, we headed to Jaemor Farms for some apples and peaches. Today, we will be making apple butter, spiced apples, and peach marmalade, so we drove to the best place in Georgia to get those fresh ingredients! Seeing the pumpkins lined up and ready to decorate front porches and front yards spiked my pumpkin spice fever for the cooler weather.
Tune in tomorrow for the Kitchen Canning Episodes of the women of the Johnson Funny Farm in rural Georgia. We can’t wait to make a mess in our kitchens today! We’ll be jockeying back and forth from her farmhouse to mine as apple butter simmers in one and peach marmalade sweetens the air in the other.
But the most preserves we’ll make are the memories.
I’m closing today with a few pictures from our stroll through the gardens – – including an uphill walk to see the Manor House. Our moutainous climb to see this beautiful home and see the view from the top reminded us that we should have brought ibuprofen for the sore muscles and aches after such a lofty achievement.
Limon Buffett
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….
Monthly Goal Update
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. |
The Conference Getaway
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 