Secret Life

Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today, the post asks about the secret life or hidden dialogue of our pets or plants – or whatever lives in our homes.

Cat and Mouse Games

I think our garage ghost’s name is Felix

born in Waycross, Georgia in 1944

died in Brunswick, Georgia in 2025

a real cat all his life, a preacher

who knew the pleasures of wine

and wanted to taste the whole world

with every taste bud on heightened

sensory awareness because when

my brother and I left Five Star Bank

we ran into Al Brown

the church drummer who told

us in the Tramici’s parking lot that

our dad had come to him in a dream

and told him Heaven was great, that

you can go anywhere you want, Al!

I was just in Minnesota yesterday….

and I stopped in my tracks

drew in my breath ~ because

that told me Dad and Gus

my sister-in-law’s father

are paying visits to their children

that they’d been to see Greg in

Minnesota (we know no other

soul in Minnesota)

Greg, my sister-in-law’s brother

who knew me well enough already

at the reception during the

sibling speeches to fear I might

push him in the pool

and now the cat and mouse are

on the loose

prowling around in my

garage posing as orbs

for the cameras

keeping me up all night

putting me on heightened

sensory awareness

Felix and Gus

a cat and a mouse

playing games

….as always….

*references to Felix the Cat and Gus, a mouse from Disney’s Cinderella

**Dr. Felix Haynes and Dr, Gus Hernandez died three months apart earlier this year

***One was a Southern Baptist, one a devout Catholic…..and now we have a Baptist and a Catholic ghost teamed up visiting friends and family in the afterlife. One shows up as an orb on Ring cameras, and one sets off fire alarm. Shenanigans.

Teeth

Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt asks us to tell about teeth – – any story about teeth.

The Tooth Fairy’s Silver Box

somewhere in all the rubble lies a

tiny metal time capsule with

a tooth fairy’s pearled keepsakes

a sterling silver box

with bones of her bone

she could not bear

to toss out

way back

when

Paying Attention

Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa in our Stafford Challenge small group. I’m continuing so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. One thing I appreciate as a writer is that during times when I’ve barely got my head above water with all the energy and demands from life and work, there are prompts to get me started – – which, of course, is the most important spark. Today, the prompt hits home in tender spots, asking us to write about what we feel when we see a homeless person holding a sign on the corner or to tell about a specific person that perhaps we didn’t pay attention to.

Here’s Your Sign

some topics hit deep

too deep to think into ~ I’ve

known a sign holder

and what got her there

I’ve witnessed her miracle

of overcoming

I know the power

of a mother’s fervent prayers

for a daughter lost

when I see homeless

sign holders I feel this pain:

that’s a mother’s child

Vanishing

This month, I am continuing writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today’s prompt, card 33 of 60, asks us to write down, in 15 minutes, everything we can name that will not last and to keep the pen moving.

What Remains

faith

hope

and

love

will

remain

those

three

all

else

will

fade

especially

truth

in the age of AI

Favorite City

Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Today’s prompt asks us to tell all about our favorite city.

Fisher Price Little People City

Little People cars

drove around my favorite

childhood neighborhood

we filled up gas tanks

turned up floors of parking decks

drove past the fire house

we took kids to school

ambled back home past Main Street

settled in at home

We Have a Ghost

Last month, I started writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. I’m continuing this month so that I can experience the entire deck of prompts. Goldberg’s book was among those recommended at the top of my reading list by the chair of my doctoral committee a decade ago, and the messages about writing remain timeless.

Today’s topic: How are you invisible?

I’m not invisible, but our ghost is the closest thing to invisible around here, even though the presence is translucent. It’s an orb.

We’ve done a lot of unearthing of things around here lately. First, all the trees came down and I wonder whether some poor Civil War soldier is still looking for the missing button on his coat. Maybe he thinks it is in our garage.

Next, we lost Dad in June and have had to clear out seven storage rooms and his house, and in the process of preparing for the estate sale, I’ve brought home things to price – – such as old coins and all my great grandfather’s briarwood pipes and other relics that might have conjured up a spirit following them here with me.

I knew we had this invisible ghost when my eyes flew open, wide awake suddenly from a deep sleep where I thought I’d heard a noise. I turned on the camera in the garage, certain I was going to have to call 911 for an intruder. But that’s not what I saw.

I saw an orb. It was hovering and floating around just as you’d expect any ghost to do, all ethereally, very demure out there, not rattling any chains or slamming any objects around. It floated over between the camper and the truck like it was planning for how to pack when we go camping, and then it went off screen toward the Home Depot clearance sale fig tree before returning to the garage and floating unhurriedly in between the cars.

My husband woke at this point and asked what I was doing.

“We have a presence,” I told him. I added, “Don’t think me crazy, please. I have proof.”

When I explained I was waiting for the ghost to come back out of the garage, he pointed out it might have slipped through right underneath the camera where I couldn’t see it exit. Then, as an afterthought, he pulled up the camera in the living room – the one we use to check on the dogs – and there was no orb floating around in there. Good thing – – that’s just on the other side of our bedroom door.

I snapped a few photos, but then realized I needed to renew the Ring subscription to capture any video.

Flash forward to two nights ago, and I now see two orbs in one of the videos.

And last night, I captured sound for the first time. We’d gone to bed shortly before the time on the two videos that prompted the camera to record. I will check those out today and post them another day so that you can hear the clicking and breathing of this ghost. Perhaps this evening we will move more cameras around to this side of the house so that we can see from other angles as well.

Here on the Johnson Funny Farm, we continue to attract all the quirky animals, people, and spirits. We look forward to finding out who this is and how we can help. We feel it’s a friendly presence with some kind of unsettled business. And like all the wildlife around here, it has come to a safe place to find some peace.

How I Learned to Drive

This month, I’m writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today’s post inspires us to write about how we learned to drive.

In a Volkswagen

I learned how to drive in a

red Squareback stick shift

I still remember those days vividly – especially the day I pulled out in front of a car coming around a curve to make a left-hand turn at the last minute, thinking I had time. I don’t know how I avoided a collision, but I am convinced it was the other driver’s reaction time that kept us from wrecking. My mother was on the passenger side, and I remember the look of sheer fear on her face. She screamed, and the other driver laid on the horn.

This is what comes to mind when I think of the patience of my mother. She didn’t take my license away or put me on restriction – she quietly reminded me of the consequences of decisions that are made too quickly without enough forethought. Unintended consequences often have impacts on others that can’t always be undone.

Some lessons are never forgotten, and some words come rippling back right through the years.

Last night at our County Commissioners’ meeting, in a count of 4 to 1, our Commissioners did something no other Board has ever done in Georgia history. In a “hold my beer” move by one Commissioner who confused courage with a lack of sense, he made a motion to reject the school board’s millage rate proposal. The consequences for this are now that our county Tax Commissioner will not be able to collect taxes until the millage rate is submitted. The deadline is September 1. Today is August 27. I fear for the ripple effect that may close our library doors or other county departments; this impacts far more people than school leaders who are charged with making the best decisions for their schools and taxpayers worried about pennies on the dollar in their own pockets.

The one vote against this act of senselessness was my husband, I’m proud to say. As one who rarely comments or gets involved in politics on any level, I applaud his standing up for what is right in the face of overwhelming opposition. He voted for what was right.

It’s comforting to know that there are drivers who, unlike me in my learning days, do not put others in jeopardy. I rest fully in the confidence of his ability to lead and to drive. I pray for the ones who do not know what they do not know and do not count the costs.

My Mother’s Hair

This month, I’m writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today, Goldberg inspires us to tell about your mother’s hair – or anyone’s, really. I think of the vignette in The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros as I think of this prompt.

my mother’s hair

was never long like

in that picture

of her with that wig

looking all beehive-ish

with the corkscrew finger curls

tumbling down

against her ears

like the swirl

of blackwater swamp

when something’s churning

underneath

my mother’s hair

was never thick like

her laughter

in that picture

in Dad’s arms

head thrown back

in her Georgia back yard

clipped and curled

short and common

like a wood shaving

whittled and whisper-thin

no, my mother’s hair

was never

long and thick

Numbers

This month, I’m writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today, Goldberg inspires us to write for ten minutes using a number in every line.

Numbers

these 3 dogs

at 5:00 a.m.

here with me this room with 5 chairs

curl up like tiny zeroes

in their number one choice spots

and snooze as 5:00

turns to 6:00 and my husband ambles in

and makes me my first

cup of Eight o’Clock coffee

all in about 4 minutes

for 2 matching pods

in our pair of mugs

me with two teaspoons of creamer

him with his one

and I count five minutes

until shower time, 6:10

so I can get dressed by 7:00

leave by 7:30

and be to work by 8:00

where I will work until 4:30

stopping at noon

to eat a couple of bites

with a few hungry friends

before returning to count down the minutes……..

Disease

This month, I’m writing posts from prompts in the Writing Down the Bones Card Deck by Natalie Goldberg, shared with me by my friend Barb Edler of Iowa. Today, what’s in the cards is disease. Goldberg invites us to write about any single disease we know directly.

the darkest disease

throughout human history

is no empathy