we wrote, laughed, shared, cried,
listened, commented, questioned,
connected, embraced
the most important
thing we did in our session:
we accepted us
Our NCTE Presentation
Traveling to Boston for NCTE: Departure and Arrival
yesterday we came
to the big city: Boston
but our hearts are home
Nothing grounds me, pulling on my rural roots and centering my belonging more than putting on my sweatpants, wrapping up in a jacket, and throwing on my dew-proof duck boots for a walk with the dogs in November on the Johnson Funny Farm, one hour south of Atlanta, Georgia but as rural as Little Red Riding Hood’s deep woods with all the mystery. I smell the wet earth of morning wafting up from beneath the pine straw, see the falling leaves and misty haze through the thicket, and hear the lone woodpecker overhead, calling to us from the towering Loblolly pines. I’ll carry the country silence of my Sunday morning walk with the boys close to my heart all week as we travel. I’ll miss them, and I will pull up these blog photos below many times while I’m away. The one with Ollie trying to be a stowaway will bring tears by the end of the weekend.
I know that there is much to look forward to in the city beyond the NCTE Conference, where I, along with my writing group, will be presenting our latest series of books for teachers on Thursday. We’ll see the nation’s history unfold along the Freedom Trail if the weather permits, and from there, following the NCTE Convention, we’ll explore several New England states and share Thanksgiving Dinner at Plimoth Plantation as we see The Thanksgiving Story come to life on stage.
As we share in our love of travel, though, there is nothing that compares to coming home. To being home. To belonging, and to feeling the sanctuary of our space here in rural Georgia with our three rescue schnoodles – Ollie, who walks with his nose up, sniffing the air all around him, Fitz, who walks with his nose to the ground, sniffing what has been there before him, and Boo Radley, whose nose and eyes are always directly ahead so that he doesn’t miss a thing. It seems silly, really, to have to walk these boys on a leash in all this space, but out here we never know what wildlife we’ll encounter, and they are prone to chase everything from deer to cattle and donkeys that get loose from nearby pastures. We don’t take any chances.
As we fly out on this work conference and extended adventure, it is comforting to know that our return ticket will bring us right back where we belong.
The Edge of Childhood
Erica from Arkansas is our host today for the fifth and final day of the November Open Write at www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us to write story-poems that span from childhood to adulthood and hover on the brink.
She urges us to “record imagery that comes to mind when you think of that childhood experience. I encourage you to focus on concrete sensory details, but if you have to pull from memory or make something up that’s fine too.”
Earlier this week, we wrote 4×4 poems, featuring 4 stanzas with 4 syllables on 4 lines with a refrain. Today, I’m trying a 5×5 with those same parameters, but without a refrain.
Chasing the Future at the Kitchen Sink
overnight, he’d grown
a foot, it seemed – so
when I saw him ride
his bicycle by
the kitchen window
as I washed dishes
it brought to mind a
huge bear riding a
motorcycle in
a 3-ring circus
his back slumped over
the seat, head looming
over handlebars
ankles spinning wheels
in a duck-paddle
my mother-heart froze
in that moment, a
vivid photograph
etched in memory,
forever preserved
today, his own 5
grow a foot each day
too fast – much too fast
new generations
chasing the future
November 19: Always Looking for the Next Book
Book Fever Haiku
The Serviceberry
by Robin Wall Kimmerer
releases today ~
her first book, Braiding
Sweetgrass, was a game changer
I’ll savor the next!
I’m hoping the electronic copy of her new book is accessible early today. I’ll download it and read it on the plane to NCTE. It’ll be an inspiring read, and one I’m looking forward to diving into. Braiding Sweetgrass created a seismic shift in my thinking of the differences between cost, value, and worth and the provisioning cycles of nature. I see the life of a tree in a wooden table, and I honor the life of the tree. I feel immense gratitude for the gifts of nature ~ the earth’s gifts ~ that sustain us as we live and eat. The Native Americans have long had it right. This is all one big web, an interconnected planet with water, air, fish, animals, plants, and more ~ and each strand of it is dependent upon the other. If ever there is a time for emphasis on preserving land and the cleanness of earth and her oceans and streams, it is now. Our future generations depend upon it.
Today is Day 4 of the November Open Write, and Emily from Maine inspires us to write poems about the best and worst of ourselves using acrostics and reminding readers we are still who we are. Come join us! As always, please enjoy reading the poems at http://www.ethicalela.com by clicking on the November Open Write link.
Knowing Kim
At my best, I’m
Kindle-reading with dogs piled in my lap by the fire on the farm
Inspired by writing and all things hygge
Making a travel itinerary and looking forward to coming home
At my worst, I’m
Karaoke singing
In trouble again
Making a mess
But I’m always Kim.
If you have any book recommendations for my book club, please share them in the comments. We are searching for a great December read – quite possibly a Christmas classic. What do you recommend?
November Open Write Day 3 of 5
Denise Neal, principal at Our Lady of the Way RC School in Belize, is our host day for the Open Write at www.ethicalela. She inspires us to write poems today by offering this prompt:
“Think about your educational journey. In Aristotle’s words, ‘ The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.’ Because we all have different experiences, our stories will be a collage of joy, success, pain, sacrifice, opportunities, and commitment. I encourage you to write in 4 lines and have a minimum of five stanzas.
However, you are also welcome to write freely to TELL your STORY.”
I thought of Denise’s words and all the things about my educational journey that really mattered ~ and still do.
What Matters
not the classrooms
not the worksheets
not the crayons
but the experiencing
not the posters
not the desks
not the chalkboards
but the reading
not the papers
not the assignments
not the projects
but the thinking
not the textbooks
not the answers
not the solutions
but the writing
NCTE 4 x 4: The November Open Write, Day 2 of 5
Stacey L. Joy of California is our host today for the second day of the November Open Write at www.ethicalela.com.
She inspires us to write 4×4 poems as we think about the world today. Looming in technicolor living on my horizon this week is the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) Convention in Boston, which begins Thursday and lasts through the weekend. Ada Limon, our US Poet Laureate, will be speaking on Sunday, and many others will be speaking throughout the convention – Kate McKinnon and Bryan Stephenson to name a couple. As I think about the world today, NCTE is what is foremost on my mind. There’s a different air there – where I breathe best around readers and writers, where something I can’t detect seems to flood my veins and bring joy. And to top it all off, I’ll be joining meet-ups with many of my writing group friends from Slice of Life and Ethicalela in person, even presenting with one of the groups on one of our books that just launched in September. If you’re at NCTE this year, you can find me in Room 210A of the Boston Convention Center on Thursday, November 21 at 11:30.
Hope to see you there!
A 4 x 4 poem structure follows these four rules:
- 4 syllables in each line
- 4 lines in each stanza
- 4 stanzas
- Refrain repeated four times in lines 1, 2, 3, 4 of stanzas 1, 2, 3, 4.
NCTE
where shall we go?
NCTE!
where will it be?
Massachusetts
where can we breathe?
NCTE!
what do we need?
NCTE!
who will we see?
Ada Limon!
where will she speak?
NCTE!
where would we dwell?
NCTE!
who steals our hearts?
NCTE!
November Open Write Day 1: An Invitation
Today, I’m your host at http://www.ethicalela.com to kick off the November Open Write. Please come join me at that site to share your own poem and to read the poems of others!
On the last day of October’s Open Write, I shared this poem:
An Invitation
save the date: November 16
you may choose to arrive by stretch limousine
we’ll be gathering in style for a writer’s retreat
whether castle or cabin or on your own street
we’ll spend the day writing in fantasy places
day one: a packing list poem ~ what’s in our suitcases?
so gather your words ~ select them with flair
I’ll be the door greeter to welcome you there!
you’ll need your location and writing utensil
something to wear, and perhaps a spare pencil
we’ll all need a critter (think Hogwarts style)
and a snack to share to write all the while
and then let’s bring one thing – a gift for the group
something to make us all laugh, cry, or hoot
what’ll it be? oh, I can’t wait to see ~
here’s a basket of tickets – take some – they’re free!
let’s keep Donnetta’s theme words sparking and growing
return in November, keep writing ongoing!
I offered a glimpse of today’s prompt, encouraging writers to think of a fantasy writing retreat and these aspects: location, clothing, writing utensil, critter, snacks, and a gift for others.
Today, I offer this poem to inspire others to write poems about a fantasy writing retreat. Come join us, and share yours on the ethicalela website!
Location: I’m arriving by Oz-graced Yellow Brick Road
to this heavy oak castle door with just an armload
Clothes: wearing overalls under my farm-writing cape
this magical cloak of virtual escape
with shimmery amber-hued dragonfly wings
and chicken foot bracelets and beetle leg rings
just a suitcase, you see, for this week here together
with all of my writing pals ~ birds of a feather
Utensil: and speaking of feathers, I’ve brought my quill pen
plucked from the wing of a feisty owl hen
Snacks: I’ve sugar-spun cauldrony crinkles for snacks
shaved off curled spikes from chameleons’ backs
Critter Companion: made easier by Razor, my pink crocodile
I walk on a bling-leash, in true Funny Farm style
Group Gift: and one more thing: I bring a group gift ~
truth glasses for all, to see things others miss
Preparing for #NCTE2024
I haven’t packed yet,
but Saturday: my suitcase
comes down from upstairs
If you’ll be in Boston for NCTE next week, I can’t wait to meet you in person! I’ll be there, presenting on Thursday morning with my Ethicalela writing group on our book Words That Mend: The Transformative Power of Writing Poetry for Students, Teachers, and Community Wellbeing (Seela, 2024). Today, I’m sharing a QR code for a free download of this book, which is also available (for print costs only) on Amazon – along with several other books as well. Our group wanted to make this resource affordable for teachers everywhere. If you’re a member of Ethicalela or Slice of Life, I can’t wait to see you at the breakfast and drink gatherings for those group members. Even if you aren’t a member of those groups, next week is a perfect time to come along and write with us. We can’t wait to see you!
Also, I’ll be hosting at http://www.ethicalela.com tomorrow for the first day of the November Open Write. Join us as we venture to virtual writing retreat castles….and cabins….and imaginary places as we bring a magical experience to settings of wonder and sparkle that won’t exist until you bring them to life tomorrow morning. See you there!
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Sister Shubert’s Sunday Morning Cinnamon Rolls and So Many Shares of Shiba Inu
ding!
oven
timer and
Robinhood App
alert that sweetness
is done with its baking
that a good day is ahead
rising like the index and yeast
in family-fragranced indulgence
My sister-in-law shared Sister Shubert’s Cinnamon Rolls with me as a freezer staple to keep on hand for Saturday and Sunday breakfasts. We were visiting about a month ago when I bit into the best cinnamon roll ever, and she clued me in to her well-kept secret, hidden in the spare freezer. I bought a tray on a recent grocery excursion, and Sunday was the day. Cinnamon Roll Sunday here on the Johnson Funny Farm, and the mouth-watering wafting smell tells the story. We savor each bite, reflecting on the week.
The past week has been full of group texts with my children, who love to compete with stock purchases. Each tries to outdo the other, and they get into hilarious bragging fights over how they might buy a daily dipper, then watch a swiftly recovering penny stock make a few dollars in a week. They give me sage financial advice so much that about a year ago, I started listening to them and their crypto currency wars and decided to riskily invest about $20 in Shiba Inu. With that twenty dollar bill, I received over one million shares, since each share’s value is about 0.000019.
What I have discovered is that being a Shiba shareholder gives me the excuse to buy dinner without any lip from anyone at the table. When someone tries to throw down a napkin and argue as I pick up the bill, I simply pull them aside and whisper, “Sorry, but I can’t let you do that when I’m sitting on over a million shares of Shiba Inu.”
Enough said.
I’ve bought and sold that same $20 worth of stock a couple of times over the past year as its value has fallen and risen like fresh-baked cinnamon rolls, and it has honestly been the most fun I’ve had ever breaking even with anything and enjoying the inexpensive entertainment of banter and bickering, and being able to talk about it like it’s some “big” thing.
So I’m considering adding another $10 worth of shares to get up to 2 million now that the fever is raging.
Over a year, it might buy a tray of Sister Shubert’s Sunday Cinnamon rolls (or their lemon blueberry rolls, which my brother likes even better) if I play my cards just right!
Gladys Taber and November
Indian Pudding
a new recipe to try
for Thanksgiving Day
My father, an avid book collector, introduced me to Gladys Taber’s writing years ago, and I fell in love with her instantly. He has always had the uncanny knack of matchmaking book lovers with books that become favorites.
Sometimes I like to go to my collection on the shelf of my reading room and pull a Taber book and read random passages. Many of her books are organized by month or season, so I find that no matter where I land in her seasonal offerings that mirror mine on our farm in Georgia, I am there – right there with her – in Southbury, Connecticut.
From Still Cove Journal: November
“November is a month when the chill blustery days and long cold nights are hard on dieters. Green salads are fine on hot summer days. but the very sound of the wind from the Atlantic against the big window makes me think of a real breakfast of sausage and buttermilk pancakes with first-run golden maple syrup. By suppertime I forget I am a non-dessert eater, and when I go out to eat, I often order Indian Pudding. I have had many very fine puddings, but almost never an authentic Indian Pudding. So I like to share the recipe my mother and grandmother used:
Bring 4 cups of milk to a boil in the top of a double boiler. Gently stir in 1/3 c. yellow cornmeal and cook 15 minutes. Add 1 cup dark molasses and remove from heat. Add 1/4 c. butter, a teaspoon each of salt, cinnamon, and ginger and 1/2 c. seedless raisins. Place the batter in a greased baking dish. Then pour 1 cup cold milk over it. Bake in a slow oven for 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Serve with hard sauce or cream or even vanilla ice cream.
The main thing about the real Indian pudding is the cup of cold milk poured over…..”
I’ve never made Indian pudding, but it sounds divine. I’m making a shopping list now to try it, perhaps for our Thanksgiving lunch at the office a week from Tuesday. There’s something magical about an old recipe that seems to conjure up the spirits of those long dead and welcome them back to the present. If we ever do discover time travel, I’m fully convinced that the portal will be through an old recipe box, long forgotten, hidden in the corner of an attic, and one that comes alive like Frosty the Snowman’s magical hat.
Common Threads 