breathtaking sunrise in Georgia
walking three dogs
on the
farm
sipping coffee
waking
warm
peaceful solace
nature’s
charm
Zeno for Sunrise
Zeno inspired by Margaret Simon
My friend Margaret Simon from Louisiana challenged her writing friends to write Zeno poems this week. It’s a 10-line poem with the following syllable count: 8,4,2,1,4,2,1,4,2,1 where the single-syllable lines rhyme. I’d held a family engagement session this week at a local church’s preschool center, and as I was leaving, I heard the unmistakable caw of a fish crow directly overhead. I snapped a photo, not realizing at the time that it would become my zine photo for a poem! Thanks to Margaret Simon for a fresh, new poetic form. I feel a lot of zenos coming on!
Fish Crow In the Know
high overhead, perching on a
church steeple, caws
a fish
crow
giving off strained
vibes of
Poe
raven-like eyes
in the
know
Princess and Hero Night on the Zebulon Square
As the District Literacy Specialist for Pike County Schools in Zebulon, Georgia, I get to be a part of some amazing events put on by businesses in this county by offering L4GA grant partnerships to provide books and other literacy materials to put into the hands of families who attend the events.
One such event is the Princess and Superhero Night on the Zebulon Square, which happens on a Saturday evening at the end of September. Our Chamber of Commerce organizes the event and gets permission from the City Council to block off the road directly in front of the courthouse to make a safe zone for families to visit the characters that are each sponsored by businesses and stationed all around the square. This brings people into our local businesses and provides opportunities for people to meet new friends and get new books! 2,000 books, to be exact.
This is where my passion and my career intersect for the most fun I could possibly ever have in my work! I meet with our local businesses in the spring of each year to design a Community Partner Literacy Plan. Instead of coming up with new ideas, I ask each business to share with me the events that are already happening as part of what they do – whether they are providing workshops, celebrating certain holidays, holding festivals or hosting events that bring people together. Once we have their events listed, we imagine all the ways that grant funding through L4GA can be used to bring books, reading clubs, writing workshops, poetry readings, or other literacy-related benefits to our community. Then we put the dream on paper and make it happen. The cherry on top is when we network between and amongst community partners themselves. This particular event showcases how all the dots connect to create a magical night!
I often think of my work as a year-round Hallmark Literacy Movie, because if I took any Hallmark Christmas movie and substituted the festival that always seems to be part of the plot for any of the events held in our county, with the constant smiles and joyful spirit of all the characters, that’s the setting where I live and work – – in a dozen or more Hallmark Literacy Movies, where people fall head over heels in love with books.
But please don’t tell anyone. I need everyone to think that no one would want this job (I have a few fake complaints stored up just in case anyone realizes I’m getting paid to do what I would, most days, do for free). The truth is that I work with amazing people every single day, from the state department of education and the broader network of schools throughout the state, to the local schools and businesses throughout my own county. The Princess and Hero Night is one of my favorite events, but it is only one of many that draws families and gives us opportunities to distribute books.
Just look at all these smiles! In the words of Judith Viorst and her adorable Alexander, these moments make this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad job the most rewarding work I do!
All photographs are used with permission of families!
Savoring Saturdays
My husband and I savor our Saturdays together by doing something together in the right lane of the weekend, where the slower traffic dawdles. Truth be told, we had a blue light warning on the way to breakfast Saturday, but that’s because we were humming along to Anne Murray’s Could I Have This Dance? and the one of us who was driving was lost in the moment……speeding, it turns out, through the tiny town of Molena, Georgia.
We’d decided to take the back roads and go deeper into the country instead of over to the city north or south. We needed a place with a great breakfast, an uncrowded grocery store, and a spot for birdwatching.
We knew just the place.
Woodbury, Georgia is one county west of us, and Smitty’s makes some of the best food around. Southerners can tell, too. We see the proverbial “hole in the wall” restaurant and our right foot slips from the gas pedal to the brake. A friend of ours and his brother runs Smitty’s, and they come from a long line of southern cooking.
We’d been too late for breakfast, but we caught the first lunch. My husband ordered a hamburger, and I ordered a BLTPC (Bacon, Lettuce, and Tomato with Pimento Cheese). As soon as the waitress turned to take our orders to the kitchen, we heard the rumble of motorcycles. A dozen Harley-Davidsons.
They all parked and entered the restaurant in black leather vests and motorcycle boots. This crew of bikers with head wraps pulled four tables next to us together and sat down to eat. One white woman, one black woman, five black men, and six white men did not claim separate ends of the table but sat among each other talking, sharing their observations of the beauty of their drive through the rural countryside and things they had seen. We recognized the points of their descriptions and went there in our minds, envisioning these places so familiar to us.
We listened, pretending not to eavesdrop, but we couldn’t help ourselves.
“Wouldn’t our world be a better place if we could all talk about the beauty we see every day and share moments around the table regardless of race or religion or political affiliation?” I asked my husband.
He shook his head. “Yes, that’s something we don’t see often enough. Can you get a picture?”
I snapped one on the down low and noted they were riding with a club out of Fulton County, north of us near Atlanta. When we don’t want to stare but we do want to see people or situations that interest us, that’s how we people-watch without being rude.
When we left, we admired the parked bikes. There is something about seeing a row of motorcycles that inspires me to want to get out and let the breeze blow through my hair and breathe in the fresh air of the countryside with a band of biker friends.
Give me the 3-wheeler!
Signature Pedicure Night with Hot Rocks
My sister-in-law and I treat ourselves to a relaxing pedicure together once a month. We like to sink down into the massage chair, plunge our feet into the steamy footbath, and breathe in the aroma of the bubbling pool.
The health and wellness benefits are immediate – a pedicure works wonders for the stress level, and it gets the leg circulation flowing just right.
Even though we know we overindulge in the comforts of the kneading and percussion of the massage chair combined with the leg massage, we splurge by going all out on the hot rocks, too. I first had a hot rock massage while on a cruise, and it’s been my favorite kind ever since.
According to the real experts on various sites on the internet, hot stone massages are beneficial for anxiety, back and leg pain, depression, insomnia, and osteoarthritis and can also reduce muscle spasms, tension, and chronic stress. I once had a friend whose doctor recommended them for all his female patients over 50 with desk jobs to help with circulation.
In fact, my brother called about a month ago and shared that he had enjoyed his first-ever pedicure and was feeling the benefits. HIs girlfriend took him and introduced him to a whole new vista of foot pleasure. I encouraged him to try the hot rocks next time.
The leg masque time is soothing. My sister-in-law and I both picked the eucalyptus for its relaxation and amazing scent. They apply the masque and wrap your legs in steamed towels to help the moisturizers set in, and it’s a few fantastic minutes of heaven.
Next comes the pop of color. I went from Hazelnut in August to Tropical Teal (508) in September, and next month I’m thinking of Queen of Grape as a deep purple frost for Halloween.
We always carry our flip flops or slides along with us so we can get home or to dinner without any dings on our polish. It’s fun to watch reactions when you walk into a restaurant wearing professional clothes……and flip flops. We’ve considered showing up somewhere in the complimentary pedicure flops somewhere just for kicks, like when we are meeting the family for dinner afterward.
I need a good November color – – a color of Thankfulness and Gratitude. I welcome your suggestions in the comments. The color choice is more difficult than an ice cream choice for me, because at least with flavor, I know the few I like best. Color is different, though – I love them all! Please help me choose!
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.
First Day of Fall
We dozed with open
windows to let the first whiffs
of fall fill us full
welcome, Great Pumpkin!
welcome all scents of pumpkin spice!
bring on the sweaters!
Coaching in Schools – September
Earlier this week, I shared my experience participating in a coaching cycle in an elementary school in my state. This work takes place through the Georgia Association of Educational Leaders (GAEL) as part of the L4GA Grant (Literacy). During the second day of our coaching cycles, we visited a high school in the same area. In the elementary school, we looked for examples of behavioral, cultural, and cognitive engagement. At the high school, we looked for levels of rigor.
The classes with the highest levels of rigor, we observed, were classes where teachers knew their students’ interests and had a grasp of where they were in their understanding of the content. They knew how to push and how to pull, how to give some students an extra thinking challenge while working on the spot with a small group that needed extra support. The most masterful teacher we observed that day made relevant life applications by giving specific examples, providing time to think and to work on the task, encouraging talking with peers to figure out solutions, and asking questions in a way that allowed students to figure out the answers rather than giving the answers to the students or leading them there with hints. Instead of lowering expectations, they raised the bar.
We observed for instruction that needed tweaking to reach its potential also. No matter where we are as educators, there is always room for improvement. Teachers in these schools appeared to welcome the observation team with sincere interest in the suggestions to improve in the areas that are most often only recognized by someone other than the instructor.
I feel blessed to be able to be part of such a strong network of leaders throughout my state. Each district leader in this particular observation team comes from a different system, so we bring the perspectives of our own school system in terms of strengths, gaps, and areas of opportunity. We also see small things in the moments, on the walls, in the conversations, in the frameworks of instruction that make us stop and smile.
These were some signs throughout the building that brought some encouragement as we walked the hallways. I hope they inspire you the way they inspired me.
September Poetry Marathon – Day 5 of 5
Today’s host for the final day of our September Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Glenda Funk of Idaho, who inspires us to write Barbie poems. You can read Glenda’s full prompt and her poem here. I can’t wait to see all of the poems born into the world on this topic, so please hop over to the site and take a read. I chose a reverse nonet today, crafting nine lines with each numbered line’s syllable count on each in descending order as if going back in time, seeking Fountain of Youth Barbie.
Turning Back the Years Reverse Nonet
We’d line them up like kickball players
at recess, then pick one by one,
taking turns to get the best
looking Barbies. Next, we’d
choose accessories ~
whip worlds to life
narrating
stories
dreamed.
As part of this post today, I’m sharing the remaining poems from the poetry marathon last Friday, where a poem and hour was written either by someone in my family, a friend, or me. Here they are:
12 a.m. hour – Kim Johnson – Hashtag Haiku
#meanness
Fruit of the Spirit
my tree needs fertilizer
nothing much blooming…..
1 a.m. hour – Tanka – a five line poem with a syllable count of 5-7-5-7-7
Cinnamon apples
sliced, wax-sealed in Mason jars
cane sugar syrup
for Thanksgiving dessert pies
prepped-ahead ingredients!
2 a.m. hour – Naani – a poem consisting of four lines, with twenty to twenty-five syllables on any topic
Pumpkin Harvest!
Pumpkin Spice!
Pumpkin jack-o-lanterns ~
glowing face with the slice of a knife!
3 a.m. hour – Senryu – a three line unrhymed poem similar to Haiku, about nature
Midland water snake
basking in Gibbs Gardens grass
misunderstood
4 a.m. hour – Tricubes – three stanzas of three lines with 3 syllables per line
Poetry
Wings to Fly
Words to heal
Poetry
Weatherproof
Warmth for cold
Poetry
What if prompts
Why not now?
5 a.m hour – Cinquain – a poem that has two syllables in the first line, four in the second, six in the third, eight in the fourth, and two in the fifth (it was early, and I was watching my Honey Nut Cheerios dance in my plain Greek yogurt)…..
mOrning
cOffee hOp!
cheeriO’ed yOgurt prOm
O’s d-Osi-dO with pOetry
hOedOwn!
6 a.m. hour – Kim Johnson – Ode – a poem of praise, often written directly to a person or object
Memories of Miriam
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
7 a.m. hour – grand finale recap poem
A coffee stir stick
started a 24-hour
poem marathon!
we stirred up writing
gave wings to what if ideas
preserved memories
called love to action
resurrected ancestors
Common Threads 