Patchwork Prose and Verse
Our host today for the third day of the February Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Britt Decker of Texas. She inspires us to write poems of hurt and healing You can read Britt’s full prompt and the poems of others here. Britt inspires us to write a poem in any form we’d like that considers a moment, object, process, relationship, or anything else, that has simultaneously acted as a healing and hurting agent.
depths of forgiveness
understood, finally, as
she welcomed her child
First, I checked the library, and there were dozens on the waiting list for the ebook and the audiobook. It would be months before it would be available.
Then, I checked my local bookstore in my small town. They were all sold out.
I kicked myself. I’d had my hand on a copy in a mega bookstore two weeks ago and had put it back, thinking I’d wait and either check it out to read it for free or support my small town bookstore instead of purchasing it right then and there. as I’d really wanted to do – to dive into it and lose myself in the words and the affirmations and head-nodding I knew would happen in those chapters. Lessons I needed and lessons I already knew.
Then came the first phone call. My husband’s brother’s wife, whom I still call my own sister-in-law and who’d read the book after she’d written her own on a similar topic just months before, had good things to say.
Then the second phone call. My brother’s wife, too, was in the thick of chapter 4 and couldn’t put it down.
I hung up and ordered a copy, which arrived on Saturday morning. By Saturday afternoon, I was halfway finished – and my husband had been as interested as I was once it arrived, so I used an Audible credit to download it so he could listen as I read (note: the Audible version, read by the author, doesn’t follow the book exactly – – it’s like an engaging conversation, and it pulled us both right in).
And here we are, all the better, with a new mindset.
I’ll let them do it.
I won’t try to persuade them.
I’ll mind my business.
I’ll stay in my lane.
I’ll flash my own turn signals.
I’ll drive my own car.
I’ll map my own route.
I’ll schedule my own detours.
I like scenic routes.
I’m out of the fray.
I’m not making their choices.
They’ll have to do that.
.
.
When my husband goes into the local hardwares store, I never miss a chance to go and admire the paint chips and their color names. Secretly, I want that job. I want to name paint colors based on themes and even literary works. Little Red Riding Hood for the bread baskets in the pantry, lined with Bo Peep White-As-Sheep linen napkins, Little Boy Blue for the nursery, and Green Gables for the metal plant stand. I’m open for any job interviews a paint company would like to offer.
For now, though, while I work my way toward retirement from education as long as my mind will stay sharp enough to think and make sense of logical things, I press on and enjoy the creative side as I piddle in the hardware store while my husband shops for ideas on how to make a flag pole for our camper before camping season gets back in full swing.
I found these colors last night and began arranging them on a theme.
Next, created a chained haiku using the paint chips. I ordered the colors and imagined a countryside with a quaint cottage and a vegetable and herb garden, with a greenhouse right outdoors in the back yard inside a white fence.
And then I wrote in my backpack journal. 5-7-5, lines of haiku, loving the challenge and order of counting syllables and making things fit. I tucked the paint chips into my hand to bring them home and re-order them another time. I could have baskets and baskets of paint chips around the house and never grow tired of arranging them. Magnolia Home chips are my favorite – – they are just the right size and texture, have the most appealing font that even my aging eyes can see, are well-named, and are the most appealing paint colors of any of the other brands.
I could live
in the world
of paint chips and poetry
plants and herbal teas and
English gardens
with quaint countryside cottages
bell-peppered container gardens
wildflowers
a rope hammock
in the shade of a towering oak
and a local library within
walking distance so I
could pull my wagon there
and wheel home the stories.
My soul schnoodle, Fitz, has CUPS Disease. I suppose that’s kind of redundant – a syndrome with a disease. It’s Canine Ulcerative Periodontal Syndrome, and I can’t imagine the pain of chronic mouth ulcers. He lives on the fringes of household activity, preferring to spend his days under the bed or in a chair facing away from everyone. We have to give him Magic Mouthwash with Lidocaine to numb the pain. I can’t bear to lose him, and I can’t bear to see him suffer. We’re considering surgical options, and while we want all of the teeth removed at once, it’s not standard practice to do that. They do this in waves that cost about $2,000 per wave and cannot say how many surgeries will be needed. We’ve already had one a few years back, but the syndrome is progressing quickly.
Why, oh why has my sweet little rescue Fitz been dealt such a rough hand in life? Broken leg, barely saved…..cysts…..and CUPS disease. I’m starting to cry the tears, realizing that this dreaded day may be coming sooner than I am able to prepare myself.
my heart breaks for my
sweet boy who has CUPS Disease
he’s on the countdown……
Over the past week, I’ve had two close family members suffer sore throats. One was the result of acute aspiration during a medical procedure in which his airway had to be cleared, and the other from the flu. In both cases, as I talked to them, I could hear the raspy crackling of the voice and felt their pain palpably. And in both cases, I wanted to steep each one a cup of Traditional Medicinal Throat Coat Tea, which has slippery elm as a balm for the throat. It soothes, it coats, and it comforts. Sometimes when I have a sore throat, I just want to turn the bottle of honey up and let it drizzle down my throat to keep it protected; this tea does exactly what honey can do without having to walk around with a bottle of upturned honey all day. They both tried it, and they agree – – it works! I’m not trying to be a commercial for this tea, but when I find something I like, I try to share it with others. Today, I’m grateful for these simple remedies for times when we need relief and want something that works quickly.
The Remedy
slippery elm tea
best remedy for sore throats
with a honey spoon
natural approach
(not relying on NyQuil)
~tastier option
I never in a million years would have thought I’d want to move out of a traditional home with central heating and air conditioning into a metal barndominium with alternate sources of heating and cooling, but that is exactly the direction of our dreams – going from 2400 square feet to between 1200 and 1500 – half of the space we have now, only a much bigger workshop space for our cars, camper, and tractor. We started the journey a year ago, our 2024 full year’s mission to clean out the house, attics, and the barn. We’ve pared down to essentials (except for shoes, plants, and books) and have chosen a floor plan and a spot on the back of the farm. Now the task of actually putting the house on the market…….this is the plan for 2025…..to live in a camper while we build a much simpler home.
Here we go, about
to make the dream come alive
…..still biting my nails……
Jessica of Chicago is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com, inspiring us to write poems to the theme of “This is the Year.” She writes, “January is a time for self-reflection, goal-setting, and aspirational thinking.” You can read her full prompt and poems of others here. She encourages us to write poems about the changes we wish to see in 2025, structuring it this way:
Enough!
this is the year that
my one little word, enough,
takes on new meaning
helps guide decisions
about life, work, and spending
I don’t want too much
I already own enough
books, shoes, clothes electronics,
and other gadgets
it’s time to pare down
time to use the library
to tone down the noise
Erica writes, “Today’s poem was inspired by the poem “Nest” by Jeffrey Harrison. I loved the surprise discovery revealed in the poem and how the poet marvels over this small miracle that they discovered while putting up their Christmas tree. It made me want to explore my own little discoveries and what they revealed about myself or the world around me.”
You can read Erica’s full prompt and poem here, but here is her process if you’d like to use it to write a poem of your own today:
Stanza 1 – The initial discovery. I followed the structure of Harrison’s poem using the words “It wasn’t until…that ___ discovered…”
Stanza 2 – The feeling or reaction to that discovery. I asked myself the question “What ABOUT this discovery sticks with me?”
Stanza 3 – Start with the phrase “And now…”, how are your feelings/reflection on this discovery evolving?
Stanza 4 – Start with the phrase “And yet…”, what contrast or contradiction comes to play as you continue to reflect on your discovery?
Stanza 5 – Wrap up your poem with a final take away moment.
Scrap Paper Love Note
it wasn’t until
I came to make my coffee
that I found his note ~ ~ ~
amazing, cherished
sentiment on a receipt ~ ~ ~
scrap-paper surprise
and now my heart warms
like steam from my Snoopy mug ~ ~ ~
love wafting outward
and yet he is gone
driving to Alabama
me, spooning honey ~ ~
and adding creamer~ ~
swirling joy, blending heartbeats
across the state line
Shaun Ingalls of Nevada is our host for Day 1 of the January Open Write at Ethicalela.com. You can read his post here. His poem and prompt has my mind spinning with all the possibilities for classroom engagement. Shaun encourages us to write poems using slang words and phrasing from an urban dictionary.
One thing I could do all day is watch Greg Edwards deliver his Thug Notes – – I crack up every single time and love this approach to explaining classics. Even though I never could have shown them in class for fear of parent complaints about language and innuendo, I think Dr. Sparky Sweets (a play on Spark Notes) would have drawn my students into a deeper love of classical literature. I have to say: I got an education as I explored the Gen Z dictionary on Wikipedia. We certainly have a different culture of language from back in the day.
Another thing I could do all day is watch Sam Fricker dive. Lately, I have been following his style on the board and his prankish humor in real life. He has amassed quite a social media following. I’ve always enjoyed watching divers, and I think it stems from my fascination with the high dive at The Beach Club on Sea Island, Georgia. I swam there almost daily in the summers as a child, and there is still something about that high dive that lures me straight into its fear just like those people in horror movies that think they have to go outside alone when they hear a noise in the dark. I jumped off of it several times, but never got my courage up to dive headfirst from it. At that age, it looked like I was looking down from the tip top of the universe. And that’s one of the many reasons I love watching Sam smash all my fears of heights as he boldly twists and flips his way into the pool.
When Sam Fricker Dives
the GOAT looksmaxxes
then plunges without a splash!
who is this diva???
Birds: huddled, hungry
their feeder became a roof
shelter from the storm
I tossed extra seeds
where snow layers had buried
their black sunflowers
Common Threads 