I want to go back
to the mountains with this crew
the photos show why
November 2
October 23: Mammogram Day
Mammogram Haiku
here’s a reminder:
get your yearly mammogram
schedule yours today!
Today’s the day – – it’s a squeeze and press kind of morning here in middle Georgia, and I will step bravely up to the cold metal instrument of torture and try my best to relax my shoulder as the images of my left and right breasts are taken. I will breathe, count to three, pray, and think of all the fun I was having a week ago from today as we drove through Cade’s Cove to see bears and other woodland animals, and how a prayer brought a bear and her two cubs right across the road in front of us. What a great morning that was!
Metaphorically speaking, I hope there are no bear sightings today, but if there are, I pray they are tiny little cubs that are caught early.
That is always the hope and prayer of a mammogram, and I send that one up today.
It’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Have you had your mammogram?
Gratitude for the Kindred Spirits Book Club and My Writing Group Friends
Last year, we started a Central Office book club in our rural Georgia school district. This was Janette’s idea, but she graciously allowed me to help organize its inception. We asked another local book club if we could read their books they were not using, and we gave each title another round of reading before placing these in Little Free Libraries according to the grant provisions with which they were originally purchased. This club has become a sisterhood, and much like my writing group friends, our interactions go beyond the daily water station office talk into what goes on in our lives and how we feel about issues that arise in the books we read. We connect on a deeper level this way.
We’re a cross-section of society, which lends to richer discussion. I’m the oldest. Martina is the youngest. All of us are mothers and wives. Two of us are real sisters (Jill and Joy). Four of us are grandmothers. Two of us are preachers’ kids. We’ve all been through some tough times and bring differing perspectives to our conversations. But what’s most important is that we are all readers, we understand that every book is not going to get five stars but that there is something to take from each, and we embrace our collective voice on womanhood and readership. We’re the Kindred Spirits – and we are aptly named.
Last April, I shared a poem with our group each day during National Poetry Month, and while most were written by well-known poets, one or two were poems that I wrote. They know that writing poetry is what keeps me balanced at all times, but particularly in tough times – of which there have been many lately in my life. When my father died in June, I was sad that he would not be here to see the book I’d been working on for so long come out on Labor Day weekend.
Imagine my surprise when my Kindred Spirit sisters knew I was feeling down and threw an after-lunch dessert party for me and presented me with a poem that they had all written to cheer me up and celebrate me. I was moved to tears as they explained that they had each written two lines, and that the lines appeared in alphabetical order according to their names: Janette, Jennifer, Jill, Joy, and Martina.
I framed it and keep it among my greatest treasures; it means so much to me that in a time when I was grieving, my reading sisters built me up and reminded me that we are all in this together – – and that the tears along the journey can be turned into laughter and joy. We feel it in our local coffee shop on our small town square each month as we sip our brews and talk about the characters we have come to love (and dislike). We feel it at work as we deal with our day to day duties, and we will feel it in the movie theater later this week as we watch our monthly novel come to the big screen: Colleen Hoover’s Regretting You.
I’m not sure where I’d be without my reading group – and my writing groups. Today is a day to celebrate all of you (if you’re reading this, it includes you, too) who make a difference in my life. My glass is raised to you, dear friends, for all that you mean to me. You inspire me, and I appreciate each and every one of you!
Books We’ve Read in our Club So Far:
The Beautiful and the Wild by Peggy Townsend
First Lie Wins by Ashley Elston
The Last Flight by Julie Clark
Mother-Daughter Murder Night by Nina Simon
The Wedding People by Allison Espach
One Tuesday Morning by Karen Kingsbury
God of the Woods by Liz Moore
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Regretting You by Colleen Hoover
and
Selected Poems-a-Day for National Poetry Month
Book Club Haiku
we’re always on the
lookout for our next great read
….any suggestions?
Revealing the Theme: Haynes Family Fireside Stories 2025
On the first night of the trip, I got Sawyer to share the theme of this year’s trip since the gathering we had in June was sad for everyone. We wanted to shift the grief of our Dad and Papa to togetherness and fun by telling old stories by the fire and making new memories as we get out and go adventuring. And so our theme is……
Sawyer revealed our
family mountain trip theme:
Fireside Stories! (Shirts)
for this year’s trip: Haynes Family Fireside Stories 2025
Reunion!
cousins reunite
in the most logical place:
on the kitchen floor!
Living
I want to be like
Patricia Routledge: brave, strong
always living full
She was a staple in our home as my children and I watched Keeping Up Appearances each week on British TV. We knew all those flower sisters- Rose, Daisy, Violet…….and, of course, Hyacinth. We called our Ansley “Onslow,” a twist on vowels, so popular was this show that we adored. There was nothing like an episode watching Elizabeth rattle that teacup at the mere presence of Hyacinth. And it’s nice today to reflect on Patricia Routledge’s real life and how she lived it. Here is something she wrote a year ago, and I think her message is one that we all need to hear as we age.
One month before turning 95, Patricia Routledge wrote this. She died earlier this week at 96. I thought it was worth sharing.
“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. When I was younger, I often worried I wasn’t good enough—that I’d never be cast again, that I’d disappoint my mother. But these days begin in peace and end in gratitude.”
In my forties, my life finally began to make sense. Before that, I’d performed steadily—provincial stages, radio plays, West End productions—but felt somewhat lost. I was searching for something within myself, a home I hadn’t yet found.
At 50, I took a television role that many of you would later know me by—Hyacinth Bucket from Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would just be a minor role, a brief moment. I never expected it to become beloved across the globe. That character taught me to embrace my quirks and quietly healed something deep within me.
At 60, I started learning Italian—not for my career, but simply so I could sing opera in its native tongue. I learned the gentle art of living alone without loneliness, reading poetry aloud each night—not to perfect diction, but to soothe my spirit.
At 70, I returned to Shakespearean theatre, a place I once thought I’d aged out of. This time, there was nothing to prove. I stepped onto those legendary boards with calmness. The audience felt that serenity. I had stopped performing; I was simply being.
At 80, I discovered watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, nostalgic hats from my youth, and faces glimpsed on the London Underground—each painting was a silent memory made tangible.
Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning the simple joy of baking rye bread. I still breathe deeply each morning. Laughter remains precious, though I no longer feel the need to make others laugh. Quietness is sweeter than ever.
I’m writing this today to share something simple and true:
Growing older isn’t a final act—it can be life’s most exquisite chapter if you allow yourself to bloom once more.
Let the years ahead be your treasure years.
You don’t have to be perfect, famous, or adored.
You only need to be present—fully—for the life that’s yours.
With warmth and gentle love,
— Patricia Routledge
Cheers to blooming once more! As we face each decade beyond the prime 30s, there is pruning to be done and living to do as we bloom.
What have you come through?
This month, I continue 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 what we have come through. So I wrote a What I’ve Come Through Haiku.
Survival
I’ve come through twelve storms
sails bearing rips on these masts
battle scars smiling
You Need to Know This
This month, I continue 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. Begin the writing with “You Need to Know This” to complete today’s prompt.
Whenever we are anywhere and the Eagles ask that question in Take it to the Limit, we stop and nod. Yes, always.
They’re Singing Our Song
you need to know this:
if it all fell to pieces
tomorrow, I’d still
be yours, Eagles-style
taking it to the limit
my answer is yes.
Don’t Ever Forget
This month, I continue 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 is to begin the writing with “Don’t ever forget,” and to return to that phrase if we get stuck.
An Old Desk
don’t ever forget
the importance of a pen
and old writing desk
the kind with a felt
writing surface and hidden
compartments above
to tell the secrets
of those who wrote before you
sitting in this space
from their own corner
of the world they knew, not much
different from yours
Alone
This month, I continue 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 inspires us to write about where we feel most alone.
I feel most alone
in a thick crowd
silly, I’m sure it seems, but
the trees and birds
hold greater friendship
than a sea of ten thousand
faces without names
Common Threads 