Category: Spirituality/Inspiration

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A Strawberry Fig Visit

I picked the last of the figs yesterday, half at lunchtime when I was letting the dogs out and half after getting home from a day of work and a haircut. I was determined to make strawberry figs just like my mother always made at the end of each summer, when we’d put on aprons and each take a job of washing, chopping, and stirring in her kitchen.

Temperatures are finally out of the 90s, and the mornings are beginning their wee hour thermostat adjustment one little tap a week, it seems. When that happens, the figs that aren’t finished off by birds, butterflies, and squirrels – or picked before anything else gets them first – dry up like upside-down miniature deflated balloons hanging on the stems. I was able to reach enough remaining good figs for one last wave of canning for this season.

I found strawberries price-slashed on the clearance cart in our local grocery store and added a couple of two-pound boxes of cane sugar to my buggy.

My husband was off at a meeting, so it was only me and the strong presence of my mother in the kitchen washing, chopping, and stirring up strawberry fig memories together, steam rising and aromas swelling. And tears welling, as I think of all the things since December 29, 2015 that I want to tell her.

You have six great grandchildren now, Mom. Four boys and two girls. Aidan is an avid reader just like you, Sawyer loves science and nature, Saylor has ultra sass and is tougher than any of the boys, River loves to be barefooted in his backyard kayaking through the marsh and running with his three dogs, Beckham never likes wearing any clothes, and Magnolia Mae is only a month old and already a sweet little blossom rooted deep in southern culture, on her way to becoming another strong woman on your branch of the tree. Your three grandchildren are all on their feet, moving onward!

And my brother Ken is in love with his soul mate and she’s good for him, Dad needs you to tell him the answers (and how to let things go), and so do the rest of us. You’d love all three of our dogs that you never met. Your last words to dad – “You take care of these dogs” – assure me that you’d be proud to know that our Boo Radley, Fitz (short for F. Scott Fitzgerald), and Ollie (named for Mary Oliver) basically run the house so much that we call them our four-legged sons.

Thank you for teaching me the ways of your kitchen and giving me a love of strawberry figs that not everyone knows how to appreciate. As the autumn nears and passes and winter arrives, the warmth of toast laden with butter and slathered with strawberry figs will keep you here with me.

And I still need you, Mom.

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Ethical ELA Friday Teacher Scenes

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.

Photo by Elina Sazonova on Pexels.com
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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:

CategoryGoalsMy Progress
LiteratureRead 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.
SpiritualityTune 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!
ReflectionWrite 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 rangeThis 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.
GratitudeDevote blog days to counting blessingsGratitude 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.
ExperienceEmbrace 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.
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Another Owl Visit

They say when you find an owl feather or see an owl, its spirit is trying to communicate something to you. In the past week and a half, I’ve seen an owl twice, found one feather, and heard an owl four times. I’m speaking of one of the Great Horned Owls who lives here on the Johnson Funny Farm.

I’m wondering about the message. How does an owl message recipient know what the message is that the owl is trying to communicate? Are there owl message interpreters out there?

What does it mean to see one in a tree, then on the ground, then find a feather?

My late mother’s bird of choice for saying hello from time to time is a hawk. Generally, she’s on a wire by the road checking to see if I’m wearing my seatbelt and warning me to slow down. Sometimes she appears when something’s heavy on my mind, as if to let me know I’m thinking in the right direction.

My husband suggested that perhaps the way the owl appears has a bearing on the message. Turns out, he’s right. Overhead, they symbolize escape from a dangerous situation. In a tree, they symbolize wisdom in a situation. There is also significance according to the type of owl it is, according to the internet. A Great Horned Owl represents a deep connection with the spirit realm and brings support and peace. The internet says we have to pay attention to what happens immediately after we see the owl. If something good happens, the sighting was favorable, but if something bad happens, then more unfortunate events may unfold.

Both times I saw the owl, it was in the evening hours before sunset, followed by regularity. Normalcy. Everyday things like finishing coffee and reading on in my book. There wasn’t anything necessarily good or bad that followed the sightings – just carrying on. Hearing an owl often means some unfortunate mishap may happen to someone in the family, according to another web page. I have heard these owls for the past 3 years, so I don’t believe that their hooting is out of the ordinary – – it just means I happen to live in the middle of a pine forest, where I share their space and overhear their conversations.

Greeks believed that hearing an owl’s hooting was a good omen and symbol of wealth and fortune, reminding us to look deep within ourselves to identify anything negative that hinders our progress. Many cultures believe that owls appear in times of upcoming unfortunate events such as pandemics, plagues on the land, and impending natural disasters. Native Americans believe they are prophets of unfortunate events. I think of a movie I once saw where the maid hears the owl in the morning and by noon, someone in the household has gone to be with the Lord.

There is one other possibility, though, perhaps a stronger one. The internet assures me that aside from the lone appearance of an owl, the continued sightings of owls in any form – books, images, real life sightings – mean that owls are your spirit animal, and they are guiding you through a new life chapter, assuring you that everything is going to be okay. Their continued presence means that you aren’t alone, and that someone is watching over you.

I’m stepping out into this day with the assurance that my spirit animal is watching, leading me, guiding my steps. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to up the ante on the hawk and send an owl to get my attention in a way I’d give a hawk a passing glance and keep going.

My eyes are open, and I will continue to watch for these owls and see what message they are bringing my way.

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Hummingbird Heartstrings

it's that same feeling
I get when
my children
and grandchildren
are about to leave
for home
four hours south

they're packing bags
loading their car
stripping beds
washing towels

double-checking 
for toothbrushes
under beds for  little things 
easily left behind
like tiny dinosaurs 
wayward doll shoes
lone socks

I dread 
the tail lights
heading down 
our driveway

those I love rolling away

this morning's
stirring
is not unlike 
this feeling~
already missing family
before they leave ~
as I watch 
my hummingbirds
remnants 
of a charm
heading south
on their long journey
for winter

no wee suitcases
no teeny toothbrushes
no sippy snacks for the road

but departing nonetheless
traveling lightly

I want to hug them
tell them to be safe

tell them I'll fix their favorite
nectar next spring
even weed the lantana
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August Open Write with Scott McCloskey

Today our host for August’s Open Write, Scott McCloskey of Michigan, encouraged us to write poems from the perspective of someone or something in any painting or its artist. You can read his full prompt here. I chose the Woodstock Festival. Since the photos are copyrighted, I can’t share the actual photo I chose, but it’s available at this link: https://artsandculture.google.com/story/AwUBOlaLnlGyLA

Once you get there, scroll down. It’s about the 14th picture in the collection. There is a woman playing a flute and a man playing a drum. There is a yellowish lab-type dog in the background, mixed in with all the people milling about. My poem is from the perspective of the drum player, clearly lost in the music and, if thinking anything, thinking to his own beat. 

Ain't Nobody

Ain't nobody gonna steal my joy,
Ain't nobody gonna steal my song,
Ain't nobody gonna steal my beat,
Ain't nobody gonna steal my drum,
Ain't nobody gonna steal my groove,

Ain't nobody gonna steal my love,
Ain't nobody gonna steal my peace,
Ain't nobody gonna steal my shirt,
Ain't nobody gonna steal my dog,
Ain't nobody gonna steal nothin' of mine

'Cause I'm a sharin' man, 
Yeah, I'm a sharin', man.
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August Open Write with Wendy Everand

Wendy Everand is our host today for the August Open Write, and she inspires us to write odes to our favorite poets. You can read her full prompt here.

This brought to mind the first poet I ever knew. We lived next door to a retired school teacher in Reynolds, Georgia, and one day I got loose and barged into her house (no one locked their doors in that town back then)…..and the rest is history. After she died, two of her granddaughters compiled a collection of her poems, and I got a copy as a gift. I still believe that she pulled my poetry strings out and brushed them…..maybe even crocheted them.

Ode to Mabel G. Byrd (December 10, 1900-1/20/1987)

Mama Byrd’s poems
mainly quatrains
ABCB rhyme scheme
Crafting 4-line verse veins

Born in 1900, Taylor County
Little Sweet Georgia Peach
Died 1987, Taylor County
Lived her life to write and teach

I barged right in, in ‘69
(She was 69, I was 3)
I still remember visiting
Listening to poems at her knee

She went blind
But still knew color schemes
She’d crochet blankets as gifts for folks
In gilded yarns, bright blues, and creams

She still wrote, even blind
Poems were her favorite forms
And when I read her words today,
Time turns back, my heart warms

In 1987, I went for one last visit
Dad and I, next to her bedside
Told me she’d meet me at Heaven’s Gate
About a month before she died.

The very first poet I ever knew
Still speaks to me today
In rose gardens and peach blossoms
…..and in Granny Square crochet.  

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Sunday Morning on the Johnson Funny Farm

Aside from the usual blasts of neighbors’ target practice gunfire and tannerite explosions just to light up the Pike County Discussion Page at 8:00 on any given Sunday morning, the planes from the local airport flying low and the jets flying high along the flight path above the farm from the Atlanta Airport, and the roosters excited to see the sunrise after the long, dark night, the sweet notes of birdsong from the branches of the Loblolly pines brings peace and serenity.


One of our deer families has learned how to enter and exit the old goat pen, where they feast on breakfast and enjoy a little more security and thus a more relaxed dining experience than they normally have, especially with their little ones.

The white-breasted nuthatches laugh like evil circus clowns with their white-painted faces as they climb up and down the suet trees and keep watch while they eat.

And the hummingbirds engage in full-body air jousting squabbles over the sweet nectar at every feeder.

What I love most about my birdwatching time, despite all the best reasons I’d sometimes love a noise ordinance in our county, is that all deadlines and demands are on hold while I sip my morning coffee, never knowing what I’ll see or hear next.

This is wildlife as I’ve come to know it.

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Useful Souvenirs

I may not be sporting a Rockport, Massachusetts t-shirt, but I do have this.

Every time I scrub dishes, I think of that cute little Sail Loft in Bear Skin Neck, and it takes me back to one of the most scenic United States towns I’ve ever visited.

The VRBO unit had one of these dish brushes in the sink, and I fell in love with it right there in the standing-room-only kitchen in that iconic New England coastal town that still plays steeple hymns at 4 pm on the church organ, probably to remind everyone walking around in this much natural beauty that it might be the closest place to heaven on earth.

Even before I left Massachusetts, I went online and ordered one for myself from Amazon. The Lodge. They may specialize in cast iron, but they make a mean dish brush, too.

As I scrubbed the two crock pots from yesterday’s Meal Train Mississippi Pot Roast and our own MPR dinner with cooked-on carrots and potatoes, I thought back to my walks through this quaint little New England town to take photos of the rocky shore, the sunrise seaglass hunt, the angel wings I found on White Wharf beach in one of the least expected places to ever find a pair (an unquestionable hello from my mother in heaven), and the little wooden boats that looked like they were sitting on glass as they were anchored like lone ducks in the water.

Funny how a dish brush can do that.

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Savoring Saturday

I’ve been looking forward to this weekend for several reasons.

An Indigo Bunting performs acrobatic moves in a tree
  • I’m cooking dinner for a friend who is now cancer-free after radiation, chemotherapy, and surgery, and I’ll get to see her today for the first time since early June.
  • I’ll finally finish a quilt for my new granddaughter and get to see the true “rag quilt” look of the final product.
  • I’ll get to read from the next book in Sarah Donovan’s book club, even though the hammock is out of the question on what is supposed to be the hottest weekend of the summer here.
  • The weeds that are completely out of control will get handled by someone else.
  • There’ll be some time for birding before it gets hot outside, when the birds are most active.
  • There’ll be some time for writing chapters in two books I’m working on with my writing group.
  • Some pressure washing might happen.

And the other thing that might happen is a trip to an underground bookstore where they sell these candles that use the scents of things in the books they’re named after, like Alice in Wonderland with the unbirthday cake fragrance, and Anne of Green Gables with some lemon and jasmine. A co-worker told me about this place, maybe an hour from here, where she started Christmas shopping last weekend because of all the unique gifts she’d found when her husband took her there as part of her birthday celebration.

For now, I’m settled into my writing chair, enjoying the early morning silence of the house. I’ve taken the boys out for their morning relief romp, and they all came back in and settled back to sleep right away. I can hear a Carolina Wren singing at the top of its lungs through the kitchen window, and the faintest light looks like pinholes through the tree leaves against the eastern side of the Johnson Funny Farm.

Five minutes from now, at a quarter to seven, I’ll be outdoors with a steaming cup of coffee, starting a bird count to mark the species I hear and see.

And I won’t be rushed to get showered and dressed today. I’ll savor my coffee and my own private bird concert on the front porch way out here in our remote corner under the Loblolly pines of rural Georgia and give a thousand thanks for the blessings of another sunrise to enjoy the spectacular splendor of the woods.