November 24: A Hardscape Redo Using Chat GPT

hardscape~

easier maintenance

for two aging

bodies to maintain curb

appeal on a farm house……

We started re-thinking the hardscape bed right outside our front door back in August. We fiddled around in Home Depot and Lowe’s, checked out designs shared on social media and websites, and thought of our own needs for a low-maintenance bedding design that will require less care than the one we just pulled out that had been there for 17 years. A Confederate Jasmine was running rampant, taking over the entire brick wall out front and serving as a nesting ground for birds. The one shrub we left was a gardenia bush just because I love the smell wafting by when I sit on the front porch reading in the late summer. I carefully dug up the Giant Elephant Ear bulbs to replant them in pots instead of the ground.

We looked at all different possibilities for a redesign.
I spent a Sunday putting down new landscape fabric to cover the rocks that have been there for 17 years. We will add newer, cleaner rock while letting the first base serve as additional weed killers.

Once we finally decided on the rock we wanted to use, we set off to Lowe’s with the truck and trailer to get two pallets. Little did we know that it would not go as far as we thought it would. Our entire budget for this project covered only a third of the bed. We reconsidered using pine straw for budget purposes, but decided ultimately that the bugs it brings to the foundation (and Copperheads love it, too) was not in line with our original decision, so we went back to the drawing board.

We used the tractor to make the work load lighter. We emptied the bags of rock right into the bucket and used the bucket to hep spread the rock.

Ultimately, we will have a black and white hardscape design with evergreen shrubs in pots, along with several gray hardscape boulders. We like the straight lines rather than the waves, but we are considering a curved line to account for the additional white rock we will have to purchase to make the straight line work.

Chat doesn’t understand that our sidewalk runs in a different direction, but it does understand that we needed to see the concept of the design. We’ve decided on small black polished river rock to finish the bed, and we will work to that end…….meanwhile, we will have to re-vamp the budget and decide when to add the additional features.

For today, we have a half-finished hardscape and high hopes we can get it finished before the landscape fabric blows away!

Chat GPT can make mistakes, it says.

And here’s a blooper to end the day on……just for giggles. Chat GPT has the driveway going completely in the wrong direction and added grass in the hardscape bed. At least it shows us how badly we can goof up if we try hard enough.

6 – 7 Prairie Dog Poem

Cuteness Overload

Last week, a post by fellow blogger Anita Ferreri gave me an idea: could we possibly use the viral “word of the year” 6-7 to inspire poetry? This random response from students was driving teachers and parents all over the country a little batty at Halloween, when some schools began banning it. Others embraced it and adopted it as a way to dress up, inviting folks to come to school dressed as 6, 7, or 6-7. Our ninth grade academy was one of those schools, and the fun was never more math-y.

All week, I’ve been writing 6-7 poems. Some have six or seven lines, others have six or seven syllables on each line. I haven’t written a concrete poem in the shape of 6-7, but perhaps that will be a challenge for an upcoming snow day.

As I sat in Denver, Colorado last week during an AI Summit, we decided to take a quick walking lap around the building to stretch our legs. One of our colleagues noticed something rolling in the dirt in the empty lot beside our hotel. He stopped in his tracks.

Is that a prairie dog? (I felt a Slice of Life happening…)

Our heads snapped left to get a better look.

Indeed, it was. And once I knew they were there, I couldn’t keep my mind off of them. We keep taking random laps just to bask in their cuteness. My window, not facing the view of the Rockies but facing north toward the Aurora Borealis at night and now these just-discovered prairie dogs, was just the reminder I’d needed to be thankful I hadn’t given in to my first instinct to ask for a room with a better view. The good Lord was working the reasons for this odd room choice far away from the rest of my group. These prairie dogs WERE the view, and, like the Northern Lights, so entertaining to watch. Who needs the Colorado Rockies when there are prairie dogs? It took me back to Amarillo, Texas the morning we were leaving for Cadillac Ranch and I’d have preferred to have stayed and watched the prairie dogs in the vacant lot next to our hotel in that city, much like this deja vu situation.

So today, here is a 6-7 poem about these cute critters.

Colorado Prairie Dogs

took me out of my summit

more playful than AI

popping up here and there

tunnel infrastructure

underground labyrinths

far more captivating

than AI’s mindlessness

Tune in next Tuesday to see where our thinking about the prairie dogs took us during one part of the summit when our minds began drifting……(hint: we rethought the mascot for our new voluntary professional development club that starts in December)!

Just call him Petey…..the squeaky professional development prairie dog
Special thanks to Two Writing Teachers for providing space and inspiration for teachers to write in community

Open Write Day 2 of 3 November 2025: Traditions Tanka with Mo Daley of Illinois

Mo Daley is our host for today’s Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us to write tanka poems to share our traditions. This may be one you’d like to try today, so I’m including her directions below.

Mo writes, “This time of year always gets me thinking about traditions. There are many my family and I look forward to celebrating with each other. I really love hearing about other peoples’ traditions, too. Hayrides, Oktoberfest, pumpkin patches, bonfires, corn mazes, pumpkin carving, and cooking might be some of the traditions that come to mind when you think of fall. Today’s poem is a way for you to flex your poetic muscles while letting all of us learn a little bit more about you and the traditions you observe.” 

Mo inspires us with these words: “Write a tanka or series of tankas telling us all about a favorite, or maybe least favorite, fall tradition. A tanka is a traditional Japanese poetic form of 31 syllables over 5 lines. The syllable count is 5/7/5/7/7. Usually there is a turn in the third line. Consider focusing on sensory images to help us feel like we are right there with you. “

You can read Mo’s poem at the Open Write today by clicking here. In my poem below, I feel the need to clarify the spelling of the yellow bear. My first grandson could not say yellow, so when my son suggested they go on a bear hunt on our farm in rural Georgia to find the highly-elusive-never-before-seen yellow bear, my grandson couldn’t stop talking about the lellow bear, and none of us have called it anything different ever since. I still have the picture of them setting out to find it, and it warms my heart to think that one simple moment, one slight of the tongue, became a family tradition that remains to this day.

Traditions Tanka

first, the pumpkin bread

that started when they were kids

I tie the apron

sift the flour, mix in the eggs

add sugar, spices, pumpkin

dominoes thunder

onto great granny’s table

the one I redid

while the bread bakes, we play games

we pair with grandkids

we all walk the farm

looking for the “lellow bear”

every eye stays peeled

lellow bear is elusive

someday, we might catch a glimpse

the coffee pot stays

full of fresh brew to help us

keep up with these kids

Scrabble (turntable version)

for adults, post-kids’-bedtime

togetherness fills my soul

I take a deep breath

they were born last week

now here they are, with their own

tears of gratitude well up

Several years ago ~ from the time of his first bear hunt to early teens
The walk that started it all: the first hunt for the elusive lellow bear
Today, the hunts continue

November 14 – Shoes: 6,7

One Pair Shoe Rule: a 6,7 poem in lined syllables

I have a one-pair shoe rule

whenever I travel

that goes with my direct flight

plan with one small carry-on

a loaded Kindle device

fully charged, ready to read

wear back what I wore there

and every piece of clothing

matches every other piece

and my basic black zip boots

November 13 – 6,7 in Denver, Colorado

Denver’s Blucifer: a 6,7 poem

they said I’d see Blucifer

outside Denver’s airport

his eyes glowing evil red

I stayed on the lookout

from our Uber’s front seat

and sure enough: there he stood!

Denver has offbeat art

in a Waldo’s Chicken

we saw paintings of Ozzie

(biting at a chicken’s head)

and Reba McEntyre

Prince and Martha Stewart

Jim Carrey (Ace Ventura)

……all featuring chickens

unexpected artwork makes

me want to go exploring……

November 5

On the first Monday evening of each month at 7 p.m., I meet with a small group of Stafford Challenge poets via Zoom. We’re also members of EthicalEla, and we’ve presented together at NCTE. Periodically, we’ll text each other a poem or prompt. Our evening meetings include time for writing and sharing.

Our group consists of Glenda of Idaho, Denise of California, Barb of Iowa, and me. We weren’t sure whether or not Denise was going to make it this week, but she texted us a prompt in case we wanted to try the writing prior to the meeting and have something to share.

This was her prompt:

Screenshot

Steering clear of adverbs was challenging (I think of Stephen King’s words: the road to hell is paved in adverbs). Writing without them is not easy. I noticed the need for doubling down on adjectives to meet the sensory part of the prompt and also accepting that this would be a major run-on sentence. Here is the poem I shared with my small group on Monday night:

we’re listening to Christmas music, joy

filling our hearts and souls ~ chicken pot pie

piping hot and broiler-top crisped and browned

our three schnozzles snoozing by the fireplace

Sam’s Club Members Mark Old Vine Zinfandel

spilling from a ruby red wine chalice

catching each sparkle of shimmering light

Vermont Flannel blankets warming our toes

in forest green and rich brown earth-tone plaid

on this crisp night here in rural Georgia


I’m so thankful for my writing friends who always inspire me to try new forms and challenges. And Denise showed up – – after a long day of travel, in a Chipotle, still not yet having arrived at her destination for the evening. The four of us each shared a poem and caught up on life, and for that time of fellowship, I am grateful.

October 27 – Golden Shovel Poems

I worked with two Humanities teachers in our school district to acquaint students in our 9th Grade Academy with way that they can create poetry from prose. Here is one form of writing we used to mark the geography of a place from our writing. I was using my blog post from Tuesday to model how to let prose inspire poetry.

Golden Shovel Poems

A Golden Shovel poem takes a sentence or phrase from prose (or another poem) and writes it vertically, placing those words at the beginning or end of each line.  Ask me about double, triple, quadruple and quintuple shovels…..

Singing Off-Key

We spent the week together having fun and

Can’t wait to 

Leave on our next family trip, singing

Jesus, Take the Wheel with Carrie

In off-key high notes through the back roads of

Tennessee, Comin’ ‘Round the Mountain

October 25: Zip Odes

I created a writing workshop with two of our Humanities teachers to acquaint students in our 9th Grade Academy with way that they can create poetry from prose. Here is one form of writing we used to mark the geography of a place from our writing. I was using my blog post from Tuesday to model how to let prose inspire poetry. Today’s poem is a Zip Ode.

Zip Ode Poetry

A Zip Ode takes a Zip Code of a place, written vertically, and uses that many words on each line.  

Example:  Sevierville, Tennessee’s Zip Code is 37764

Zip Ode to Sevierville, Tennessee

3 Jesus came along

7 with us on our family vacation in

7 October, keeping children and adults in check

6 Hiding Him, Finding Him, Remembering Him

4 in thoughts and actions

Open Write Day 1 of 3 October 2025 – Fran Haley

Our host today for the first day of the October Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Fran Haley of North Carolina. She and I are teaming up together this month to bring the writing prompts for the three days of this month’s challenge. Fran and I both live in small towns with the same name – she in North Carolina, and I in Georgia. Here’s a little more about Fran Haley:

Fran and Jesse

Fran Haley is a K–12 literacy educator who coordinates elementary programs centered on a love of books and the joy of reading aloud. She helps young writers find their voices on the page in creative ways. A pastor’s wife, mom, and Franna of two spirited granddaughters, she savors the quiet rhythms of rural life near Raleigh, NC. The pre-dawn hours are Fran’s sacred writing time; you can find her there in the stillness, seated at the kitchen table with a sleeping puppy (a miniature longhaired dachshund named Jesse) in her lap. She authors the blog Lit Bits and Pieces: Snippets of Learning and Life. 

Fran inspires us to write by reminding us of the significance of today. She says, “Today is the third Saturday in October, which happens to be National Sweetest Day, according to the National Day Calendar. Originally “Candy Day,” the recognition began in 1916 with American confectioners encouraging high standards in candy-making and the patronage of candy shops and bakeries. The observance was suspended due to sugar rationing in World War I. “Candy Day” eventually resumed; historians note that it was also meant to be altruistic, a time for buying sweets and distributing to those who could not afford them. The holiday later evolved into “Sweetest Day” and the giving of notes, cards, and gestures of love. “

She wonders what “sweet things” we can consider and shares her process here:

She adapted the list of suggestions on National Day Calendar for our purpose today:

  • Write a poem about your favorite candy or dessert
  • Write a metaphorical “sweet” recipe
  • Write a poetic note of love to a neighbor, co-worker, friend, or family member
  • Write a poem based on song lyrics about candy (think “Big Rock Candy Mountain”), or any “sweet” song you love
  • Write a sweet memory or gesture made toward you

Fran chose the last option, in narrative free verse.

Fran’s Poem

The Gift

Late in the evening 

my husband aims the remote,
presses a button,
banishes flickering ghosts.

All is still and silent in the lamplight. 

He turns to me:

 “You know I love you, don’t you?” 

That timbre—

that deep, low note in his voice

—my brain translates to

Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
Prepare for impact!
Even as I answer, Yesss, I am guessing:
The doctors have called. It’s his heart again.
Or worse. What now. What now.
We’ve spent the last decade—
a quarter of our marriage—
skidding to sudden stops,
pressing the pause button,
resuming in altered states,

patched and scarred.

I can’t even summon a prayer.
I brace for the crash.
The shattering.
But he’s just scrolling on his phone.
He holds it out:
“What do you think of this?”
A photo of a red-gold puppy
lying on a blanket.
I can’t process.
I’ve missed a cue
—how early does dementia begin?
“Precious,” I say, confused.
My husband looks at me for a long moment,
then: “He’s ours.
I put down a deposit
three days ago.”
What am I hearing?

Is this real?
A dream?
My heart had given up hoping
for a dog, in light of his battles…

yet this man, so valiant
in suffering,

begins to sob

with the magnitude
of his own sacrifice,

offering me
new life.


And she passes the pen to us with the challenge to write our own Sweetest Day poems. Here is mine:

Our youngest grandson, Silas, the sweetest 10-month-old

Pajama Adventure to Krispy Kreme

it was just after 7 a.m.

I was still in pajamas

writing at the kitchen table

on family vacation

when my son asked

you want to take a ride?

I reminded him: I’m still in pajamas

no worries, he assured ~ come on!

the hot light came on as he pulled

into the parking lot

and a couple dozen later

we were on our way back

with hats and hot glazed doughnuts,

creme filled and sugar-laden,

to share with the others

just as the good Lord

intended

My son, Marshall, who knows how to share the best breakfast, with son River