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 asks to share about a pair of shoes we loved. Or a dress. Or anything worn or how we dressed all wrong. You get the idea.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Common Threads 