Tag: writing

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Goal Update for November

At the end of each month, (or beginning), I review my yearly goals and spend some time reflecting on how I’m doing in living the life I want to live ~ a way of becoming my own accountability partner and having frequent check-ins to evaluate my progress. I’m still in the process of revising some of my goals as I encounter successes…..and setbacks. New goals have asterisks for the month of December, when I will report on them in a few weeks. For the month of November, here’s my goal reflection:

CategoryGoalsMy Progress
LiteratureRead for Sarah Donovan’s Book Group




Blog Daily




Write a proposal for
my writing group’s book and a proposal for an NCTE presentation for November 2024		I participated in the November book discussion with Sarah’s reading group and look forward to reading January’s book (we skip the month of December)– I Hope This Finds You Well, by Kate Baer. I’ll participate in this book discussion in January 2024.



I continue to blog daily, and the daily writing and reflecting is a wonderful habit for me. I don’t feel complete without some form of daily writing, and the blog is a way of continuing the habit.

My writing group is writing a series of new books, and I will spend time editing the chapters we have written. I will continue to add chapters as we receive feedback from our proposals. We are each sending our proposal out to some publishing companies. I’m also meeting to help write a proposal for the NCTE 2024 Convention in Boston in 2024.
Creativity

*Decorate the house for Christmas




My main December creativity goal is decorating the house for Christmas, since we didn’t decorate at all last year. The grandchildren will be coming to see us, so there must be trees! For the month of November, I spent some time knitting hats and doing some therapy coloring with a daughter recovering from surgery.
SpiritualityTune in to church





Pray!



Keep OLW priority		We have tuned in to church every Sunday in November and will continue doing the same for December. We plan to attend a Christmas Eve service this year as well, with one of our children.

My car is still my prayer chamber for daily prayer, and there’s so much to give thanks for. I continue my conversations with the good Lord each morning and afternoon.

I’m still keeping my OLW my priority: pray!
ReflectionWrite family stories

Spend time tracking goals each month		I have shared family stories through my blog this month and will continue this month to do the same. I’ll participate in an Open Write storytelling event and share a family story out loud!

I’m tracking goals, revising, and considering some new categories as I look at my goal table. I’m already looking at my goals for next year.
Self-Improvement*Reach top of weight rangeThis is a setback for me since April. I’ve hit major stress and gained weight, despite joining WW. I need to set a firm date and get the mental mindset that it takes to stay on track. I have work to do. Update: every day, the diet is starting “tomorrow.” I seriously need a good mindset to start back.
GratitudeDevote blog days to counting blessingsI begin the days this way and end them giving thanks as well. November was full of gratitude and thanksgiving by its sheer celebrations, and I celebrated the birthdays of a grandson and a brother. Taking time to pause and give thanks for people and blessings brings joy and reminders that family is a gift.
ExperienceEmbrace Slow Travel








Focus on the Outdoors


I’ve taken a trip to be with a daughter having surgery in November, and while this was not adventure travel or vacation, we found ways to maximize our togetherness and make the best of a time of recovery. Next month, we will be welcoming visits from family members and visiting some out of state as well.

I’ve joined Project Feeder Watch, since birdwatching is far more comfortable and warm from inside the house. I plan to add two entries per week throughout December, totaling at least one hour per week.
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November Open Write – Day 5

Today is the final day of the November Open Write, but this is a fun form today. Fran Haley and I have enjoyed hosting this week. You can read today’s prompt at http://www.ethicalela.com here, or read below.

Title: Doggerel

Our Hosts

Fran Haley

Fran Haley is a literacy educator with a lifelong passion for reading, writing, and dogs. She lives in the countryside near Raleigh, North Carolina, where she savors the rustic scenery and timeless spirit of place. She’s a pastor’s wife, mom of two grown sons, and the proud Franna of two granddaughters: Scout, age seven, and Micah, age two. Fran never tires of watching birds and secretly longs to converse with them (what ancient wisdom these creatures possess!). When she’s not working, serving beside her husband, being hands-on Franna, birding, or coddling one utterly spoiled dachshund, she enjoys blogging at Lit Bits and Pieces: Snippets of Learning and Life. 

Kim Johnson

Kim Johnson, Ed.D., lives on a farm in Williamson, Georgia, where she serves as District Literacy Specialist for Pike County Schools. She enjoys writing, reading, traveling, camping, sipping coffee from souvenir mugs, and spending time with her husband and three rescue schnoodles with literary names – Boo Radley (TKAM), Fitz (F. Scott Fitzgerald), and Ollie (Mary Oliver).  You can follow her blog, Common Threads: Patchwork Prose and Verse, at www.kimhaynesjohnson.com. 

Inspiration 

We have enjoyed collaborating on this series of Open Writes inspired by the work of Poet Laureate Ada Limón! Next April, honor National Poetry Month with us by taking part in the discussion of Limón’s book, The Hurting Kind (you can join via Sarah Donovan’s new Healing Kind book club). 

In the past few days we’ve written along many themes in Limón’s work: Family, community, belonging, nature. 

Today we expand all that to include a celebration of our pets—in our case, dogs! We decided to end our Open Writes on a fun note.

Or should we say a punny note?

Time for some doggerel!

Process

Doggerel is intentionally bad poetry (what a relief)! Dictionary.com defines it as “comic verse composed in irregular rhythm…verse or words that are badly written or expressed.”

Many nursery rhymes are considered doggerel. Remember this?

I eat my peas with honey

I’ve done it all my life

It makes the peas taste funny

But it keeps them on my knife. 

—Frequently attributed to Anonymous and Ogden Nash

Speaking of Odgen Nash, consider these lines of his:

I sit in an office at 244 Madison Avenue

And say to myself you have a responsible job, havenue?

Why then do you fritter away your time on this doggerel?

If you have a sore throat you can cure it by using a good goggerel…

You can read that whole poem and more here. 

Today, celebrate the pets (hopefully dogs) in your life with a short whimsical, silly, rhyming or non-rhyming verse. Perhaps a limerick…

or write some haiku

and if you don’t have a dog

—sigh. A cat will do.

Just have pun! Er, fun!

Fran’s Poem

A Bit of Doggerel in Honor of My Granddog, Henry

Time for a nap

time to recharge

if only for a bit

on a teeny-tiny pillow

that ain’t a good fit

this is what comes

of living large

Kim’s Poem

(Texts and verse written with Boxer Moon as he delivered wood and saw the dogs at my house – I asked if I could use our texts for doggerel, and this is what we wrote in our rural Georgia vernacular):

Logs & Limbs & Dogs & Dem 

I hope dem dogs don’t get me, he sent

  In a text on delivering wood

Dey real visshus, I sent back

We put dem up

‘cause you need yo’ limbs

***

Did dem dogs get you? 

I checked on the poetic woodcutter

Dem dog’gerel visshus, 

but dem dog’dint get me, he replied.

***

The Woodcutter’s Afterword:

Dem Kim’s lims now

Dem dogs dint get me,

I stack’t da logs and lef’ dem dogs

-Kim and Boxer

Your Turn

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November Open Write – Day 2

This week, Fran Haley and I are hosting the November Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. Come join us as we write poetry together. You can read Fran’s full prompt on the website along with the poems of others or the prompt only, here below.

Title: Belonging

Our Host

Fran Haley is a literacy educator with a lifelong passion for reading, writing, and dogs. She lives in the countryside near Raleigh, North Carolina, where she savors the rustic scenery and timeless spirit of place. She’s a pastor’s wife, mom of two grown sons, and the proud Franna of two granddaughters: Scout, age seven, and Micah, age two. Fran never tires of watching birds and secretly longs to converse with them (what ancient wisdom these creatures possess!). When she’s not working, serving beside her husband, being hands-on Franna, birding, or coddling one utterly spoiled dachshund, she enjoys blogging at Lit Bits and Pieces: Snippets of Learning and Life. 

Inspiration 

As Kim Johnson mentioned in yesterday’s Open Write: Come April, she and I will be honoring National Poetry Month by facilitating discussion of The Hurting Kind, the most recent book by current U.S. Poet Laureate Ada Limón (you can join us via Sarah Donovan’s new Healing Kind book club). 

Let me linger a moment on the word healing. How often, how long, have we cried out for healing as individuals, families, communities, nations, humankind? When a group of students asked me what superpower I’d want most, that’s what I said. Healing. Oh, to lessen suffering, restore wholeness, impart peace…

In contemplating the despair and destruction of our times—of our human history, honestly—I cannot help picking up the inextricable thread of belonging. Think on this: How much pain stems from the need to belong? To know, to have, a safe place of being? 

In a May 2022 interview with Angela María Spring of Electric Lit, Limón speaks of inspiration for The Hurting Kind: “We are all part of a community, we’re all connected. And sometimes we work so hard at trying to fit in somewhere to find our community, to figure out what it is that makes us connected…you’re already connected. You already have all that you need. And it’s in everything that’s come before you and it’s in everything that’s going to come after.”

That is the spirit of today’s poetry writing.

Process

Read Limón’s poem, “Ancestors”. Note that her images and metaphors are drawn from nature. She writes, exquisitely, of being from rocks, trees, and the “lacing patterns of leaves,” concluding with “I do not know where else I belong.” There are telling lines about roots and survival.

Considering the whole of your life: Which places impart the greatest sense of belonging to you? Why? Concentrate on details and possible symbolism of these settings. What’s the story? Which people are connected to these places? They’re often, but not always, family. 

Try writing free verse or a prose poem incorporating these meaningful images, perhaps borrowing the phrases I’ve come here from and/or I do not know where else I belong.

Fran’s Poem

Origins

(after Ada Limón’s “Ancestors”)

I come here by way of the king’s river
a moody expanse, as vast as the sea
gray-green depths
with bell-topped red buoys
bobbing, bobbing
Right, red, returning
 —a rite of passage

I’ve come here from bridges
yes, most of all from bridges


traversed by my predecessors
seeking livelihood

—did they ever encounter
bridges in their dreams

the way I have?
Distorted structures of dizzying heights

spanning waters at dead of night
absurd angles

impossible to navigate


I never think I can

but I always
find my way.

Like a pigeon, released

driven by some coding
deep in my DNA

I’ve forsaken the riverside
the mammoth steel cranes

the sound of buzz saws, rivet-guns,

metal striking metal
—over time, making a man
lose his hearing

to return, to roost
here in the dawn lands
where abandoned gray houses
and weathered-wood barns
sink decade by decade
into the earth

—for it always
takes back its own


where white-spotted fawns

guarded by their mothers

step like totems from sun-dappled woods

swelling with cicada chorus 

—little living buzz saws
echoing, echoing in my blood
the generational song

—I don’t know
where else I belong.

Your Turn

Kim’s Poem

Ancestors Speak (inspired by Ada Limon’s Ancestors)

I’ve come here

from island and swamp

from Spanish Moss live oaks

from river and ocean

from marshland spartina

from cypress and mangrove

magnolia and black gum

Georgia roots running deep

all sunshine and black water

chaos and order

from hermit and hoarder

from ghosts that still speak

of lies that were spoken

of promises broken

of sermons not lived

the hard slap of truth

I don’t know

where else

I belong.

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F. Scott Fitzgerald

Over the past ten years, we’ve rescued three Schnoodles and given them all literary names. Boo Radley (To Kill a Mockingbird) was found behind the door of an empty duplex, abandoned by his former family when they moved out. Ollie (named for my favorite poet, Mary Oliver) was a young stray found on the streets of north Georgia. Fitz (short for F. Scott Fitzgerald) came to us following a badly broken leg (the x-ray looked like a candy cane snapped off at 12:00 of the hook) that the vets barely managed to save. He also had extensive road rash, leading us to believe that he may have been thrown from a moving car. He’s had a large cyst removed from his neck and had most of his rotting teeth extracted since he came to us, including his canines because of CUPS Disease. He also has cataracts, but he can still miraculously spot a lizard from a mile away. Fitz is the happiest little dog I’ve known in all my years.

Fitz is my soul dog – he sleeps right next to me, he has to be in my lap, and he invades my space right down to the air I breathe (he’s usually checking to see what I’ve most recently eaten when he gets in my face, being the little foodie he is). He likes to do what I do, so if I get up from writing to refill my coffee, he assumes the writer position in my chair in front of my computer. He heard it was NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), so here he is – working on his first novel. He’s going for those 50,000 words this month.

And oh, how I wish I knew his story.

F. Scott Fitzgerald,

our Schnoodle “Fitz” for short, works

on his current book

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Our National Day on Writing in Pike County, Georgia

After our National Day on Writing event on October 20 on the Courthouse square, I wrote an article for our local newspaper and submitted it. The editor also wrote an article and merged the two pieces together. It appeared yesterday in the Pike County Journal-Reporter, and already we have growing interest in the newest writing group to form in our community – Writing Wild!

I’m so proud to live in a community where local writing groups and literary events thrive. There is now a new Facebook page to help publicize the events. Please follow and like the page – Writing Wild – and say hello! Better yet, come to the Open Mic Writing Out Loud event on December 5 at 1828 Coffee Company in Zebulon, Georgia!

We can’t wait to see you, online or in person!

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Goal Update for October

At the end of each month, (or beginning), I review my yearly goals and spend some time reflecting on how I’m doing in living the life I want to live ~ a way of becoming my own accountability partner and having frequent check-ins to evaluate my progress. I’m still in the process of revising some of my goals as I encounter successes…..and setbacks. New goals have asterisks for the month of November, when I will report on them in a few weeks. For the month of October, here’s my goal reflection:

CategoryGoalsMy Progress
Literature



Read for Sarah Donovan’s Book Group


Send out Postcards


Blog Daily




I participated in the October book discussion with Sarah’s reading group for Reader, Come Home: The Reading Brain in a Digital World. I’ll participate in the book discussion for Assessment 3.0 this month. Time for reading has been scarce lately, but Audible is a good way to try to keep up the pace when all I can do is multi-task.



I sent no postcards this month.

I continue to blog daily, and the daily writing and reflecting is a wonderful habit for me. I don’t feel complete without some form of daily writing, and the blog is a way of continuing the habit.

I had a Zoom meeting with Ruth Ayers of Choice Literacy about writing for her website. I look forward to spending some time writing about local literacy events.
Creativity

*Decorate for fall





*Create Shutterfly Route 66
I created a surprise ducking of our office. I used tiny ducks left over from my brother in law’s birthday ducking and put them to use in the office, even adding Halloween ducks to the lineup.

I have been trying to get to Shutterfly since July, so if I haven’t accomplished this goal by the end of October, I may give up on this one. Update: I’m giving up on this goal.
SpiritualityTune in to church



Pray!



Keep OLW priority		We have been tuning in to church. With Dad preaching every Sunday in October and a few Sundays ahead of that, it makes the church home hunt take a back seat until my childhood church gets a new preacher, since I have the opportunity to hear Dad.

My car is still my prayer chamber for daily prayer, and there’s so much to give thanks for. I continue my conversations with the good Lord each morning and afternoon.

I’m still keeping my OLW my priority: pray!
Reflection
Spend time tracking goals each month

I’m tracking goals, revising, and considering some new categories as I look at my goal table.
Self-Improvement*Reach top of weight rangeThis is a setback for me this month. I’ve hit major stress and gained weight, despite joining WW. I need to set a firm date and get the mental mindset that it takes to stay on track. I have work to do. Update: every day, the diet is starting “tomorrow.” I seriously need a good mindset to start back. I’m keeping this goal. I need to get on track. Tomorrow.
GratitudeDevote blog days to counting blessingsI begin the days this way and end them giving thanks as well.
ExperienceEmbrace Slow Travel







Focus on the Outdoors


I’ve taken a trip in October to F D R State Park for a Little Guy Southern States Meet Up. We met people who have the same kind of camper we have, and we even signed up for next year’s meet up in Tennessee at Roan Mountain State Park. My brother and his fiancee came for a visit during Fall Break, and it was wonderful having some time together with them.

I’m still focusing on the outdoors with birdwatching adventures and camping. We also built our own fire pit foundation for the fire pit my son gave us for Christmas last year.



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Dream Bags

I’ve finally done it.

I dreamed up the perfect bag for writers.

Since I’ve been taking Meno to ease the symptoms of menopause (namely hot flashes that are like wandering the dungeons of hell in the middle of the night, after just crawling out of a shower of hot baby oil and syrup boiled with dead bugs and toads), I’ve had some colorful and interesting dreams. I think there is a mild sleep agent in it, but at least my dream recentl had an upside.

I invented a purse.

I was wandering with my late mother and her parents through these stores, and I don’t even know what we were doing or where we were, and they had wandered on up ahead. There was no conversation – I just knew they were there.

The stores were big rooms, that connected, but there was no middle-of-the-room merchandise. It was all lined along the walls.

I picked up a pair of flexible toe shoes, knitted like a slipper on top but soft rubber with floor grippers on bottom, and put them back. I walked on into the next connecting store and started making my way along the walls, looking at merchandise. We all looked like creeping mice, never going into the center of the huge rooms.

Then I spotted it.

The price tag: $81. It was splotched black, with intermittent patches of turquoise and shimmery champagne, a shoulder bag with a hinged lap desk that let down from the top and came off, allowing a writer to have a hard surface wherever inspiration struck, to journal even in the middle of nowhere with no desk or countertop space.

Another bag, a mahogany square tote, had a side sleeve that held a thin lap desk for a writer and gave support to one side of the bag. I didn’t look to see if there was one on the other side and the two pieces could connect like a puzzle and become a bigger piece, but hey – there’s another idea for the invention of my dreams.

I’ve had to cut back from 2 Meno gummies to 1 gummy to 1/2 of a gummy to restore some more logical and peaceful dreams without the lingering haunting feelings, but I must admit …..I’m curious about what other inventions I may have made by now if I hadn’t.

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September Poetry Marathon – Day 2 of 5

Today for the September Open Write, our host at http://www.ethicalela is Stacey Joy of California. You can read her prompt and her poem here and see the amazing Diamante form generator that will help you write your own Diamante poem. Today’s topic is food, but as I was reflecting on last night’s dinner, I chose Riesling as my topic.

Rhine grapes
light, refreshing
flavoring, fermenting, fulfilling
German white wine perfection
dinnering, relaxing, reading
citrusy, aromatic
Riesling

Continuing with Friday’s poetry marathon that I began sharing yesterday, here are some more poems from the 24 poems in 24 hours. I had other writers contributing as well. The first one was written by my stepson, who chose the word laughter to write an acrostic. I love his creativity and his random example of laughter right at the start!

1:00 pm hour – Andrew Johnson, Acrostic Poem – a poem in which the first letters of each line spell a word vertically, often defining or explaining the acrostic topic.

LAUGHTER

Little spontaneous

Alien pajamas

Universal expression

Good times had

Human experience

Topic of discussions

Emotion of healing

Right kind of feeling

2:00 pm hour – Shadorma – Kim Johnson – a Shadorma is a poem that has six lines with this syllable pattern: 3,5,3,3,7,5

Shaving Cream 

shaving cream!

not just for shaving

but also

for cleaning

when little fingers write words

into the lather 

3:00 pm hour – Abecedarian Poem by Boxer Moon – In an abecedarian poem, each line or stanza begins with the first letter of the alphabet and continues with letters in successive order, or the poet may take creative license and use the stitch-up feature that Boxer used, stitching the ends back to the beginning.  I think he created a whole new form – a Circular Abecedarian! He not only wrote it forward, but also back up from the bottom, starting with A and working back up to Z. The man shows his genius in this Halloween poem.

Photo by Pedro Figueras on Pexels.com

All alone, Zombie of Me

Before Dawn, Your life will be.

Crackling bones, Xanthic Demon!

Demonic Songs, Why have you Chosen Me- Dreaming?

Every Breath a stone, Vicious Song!

For Here my Creature roams, Ugly rightful wrongs!

Gleaming with blood, Tomorrow I’ll retrace.

His eyes yellow with crud, So fast-paced.

Inside no love, Retreating from my space.

Just as teeth chatter, Quietly, I leave my place.

Keynotes of feelings matter, Pathogen thoughts infected.

Leave, oh please leave,—- Rejected!

My heart punctured and deceived- Neglected!

Neglected- My punctured heart grieved- dejected!

Or rejected- Leave, oh please, leave in the latter

Pathogen thoughts, Keynotes of life do not matter.

Quietly, shhhhhh! Justify my chatter…

Running, Ruining, my face! Inside without love

So fast-paced, His eyes yellow stained with crud!

Tomorrow I’ll retrace, Gleaming with blood.

Ugly vicious wrong! For my creature roams

Vicious, ugly, song. Each breath a stone

Why must we repeat this Demonic song?

Xanthic Demon, Crackling bones!

Your life is mine, Be.

Zombie of me, A me of Zombie?

– Boxer Moon

4:00 pm hour – Kim Johnson – Limerick – – a humourous rhyming verse of three long lines, then two short lines, with a rhyme scheme of aabba.

Goofy Schnoodle

A schnoodle who sleeps upside down

Is a goofily-schnoozing nap hound

He contorts in my chair

Chasing rabbit dreams there

Ollie chases those hares ‘round and ‘round!

5:00 p.m. hour – – Kim Johnson – Decima- a ten line poem with 8 syllables in each line, having rhyme scheme of abbaaccddc

Monster and Robber Spray

we used to have a can of spray

when you were but a wee youngster

to rid bad robbers and monsters

to keep those things of fear at bay

and chase those horrid scares away

together we would fill the air

of Lysol-labeled love and care

you thought it did the magic trick

better than any billystick

come near us? No monster would dare!

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Patriot Day Poetry

I was riding along Route 66 through Texas on vacation in June when the text came from my friend Melanie, who teaches in our Humanities pathway in our Ninth Grade Academy:

Actual text. I accidentally hit SEND too soon and had to finish in an unplanned bubble.

Those are the kinds of texts I love the most – when teachers invite me into classrooms to write alongside students. I met with Melanie when I returned, and we designed a plan. Our day was originally scheduled for yesterday, but we had to reschedule for today. We will write 9/11 Jenga block poems, and I will model a Nonet form to show how a poet might use visual shape to symbolize rebuilding and strengthening when all hope seemed lost.

A nonet is a poem with nine lines, containing each numbered line’s number of syllables on its line. It can be written in ascending or descending order – or both, and could even be read bottom to top if a poet decided to write it that way.

I got the idea for this form from Paul Hankins, who glues colorful letters of all different fonts onto different shapes of wooden blocks. He calls it Blockhead poetry when his students take the letters and arrange them into words, then put the words into poems.

I took the quicker way out and began purchasing sets of Jenga blocks and using whole words from magazines to put onto the blocks, and I’ve created sets on various themes such as Bloom! (gardening and growth words for National Poetry Month), poverty and genocide (two of our Humanities themes), and rural Georgia living, with words like pickup truck and dirt road. For today, I’ve created a set of 200 blocks to be used for 9/11 poetry. I’ve used them in all grades from Pre-K through 12, and with adults. Sometimes, we let a group of words inspire poems that take different forms. Sometimes, the words stand alone on lines as poems of their own. One time, we challenged ourselves to write Haiku with blocks alone and no added words.

I drafted a poem yesterday to show how students might select blocks as inspiration words. Here is my draft:

I spoke with Melanie yesterday. She was concerned that she hadn’t spent enough time building background knowledge on 9/11 to prepare for this writing but didn’t want to leave the task in the hands of a sub for such a sensitive topic. I think she made the right choice. I’m thinking that this may even have been a better approach – – because students will have seen the remembrance tributes yesterday and engaged in conversations with others. Perhaps in our initial disappointment that we’d had to reschedule the writing day, this blessing of time may have allowed students to gain greater awareness of the events in ways that laid a more meaningful foundation for us to begin.

I can’t wait to see what the students write, but more importantly, I can’t wait to write alongside them and watch their wheels turn as they make their block word choices. There’s something magical about writing, even in the midst of a topic of despair and pain.

That’s when the hope shines through.

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Labor Day Morning 2023

7:15 a.m. – I was sitting in my camp chair at Hamburg State Park in Mitchell, Georgia wrapped in a white fleece blanket, drinking black coffee from my favorite oversized Snoopy Halloween mug. 64 degrees of hot flash heaven! The smoke from the neighbor’s fire last night was still rising in spiral-y wisps from the pit, scenting the air of burnt wood. My clothes didn’t match today, and I didn’t care – floral shirts and a tie dye t-shirt. I had a bad hair day, too, and that was fine with me. And no makeup to top it all off.

8:00 a.m. – Across the lake, I spied a lone angler in a jon boat, fishing the uninhabited wilderness island shoreline in his sun hat. Hamburg State Park is said to be the most remote of all Georgia State Parks, and forgetting the WiFi hotspot was at first disappointing, but then it wasn’t. My husband had found himself a Harlan Coben book in the Little Free Library, and I’d done some reading and writing, too. But at that moment, he was still snug in the camper, wedged in like tire chocks by 3 snoozing Schnoodles who like to be cozy in the covers.

8:30 a.m. – In the far distance, I heard the boom of gunfire and my heart wept for the doves losing lives and mates. Dove hunting season just opened in Georgia. Don’t even get me started.

9:15 a.m. – A middle-aged woman wearing a mid-calf navy skirt, a gray sweatshirt, and a pair of laceless Keds that reminded me of my grandmother’s Grasshoppers walked a slow-moving Border Collie mix along the camp drive, neither in a hurry to be anywhere. A bald man on a white e-Bike sped past, then a man on a regular bike, turquoise with a basket, eased by and tossed a morning greeting hand in the air, smiling big like the fresh air exhilarated him from the inside out. I smiled and waved back.

9:30 a.m. – We had one of those neighbors this time – you know, the kind with the voice that carries all through the campground, informing everyone across all 30 campsites of her daughter’s Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, the current plight of her own insurance woes, and a cousin’s wedding episodes of family members who didn’t get along ruining the day. It takes a good bit to really get on my nerves, but I came very close to standing up and shouting FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS PEACEFUL, WILL YOU P L E A S E STOP TALKING???? Her husband kept taking the dog for a walk – a little dachshund puppy in a red sweater – telling it, “Heel, Heel.” And I didn’t blame him one bit.

A leaf twirls groundward from a water oak

9:45 a.m. – An occasional leaf turned loose from a branch and twirled to the ground from the water oaks lining the lake, and every now and then a fish broke the surface, ploonking back into the water as its silvery scales flashed a watery hello. The Blue Jays were the other loudmouths on this campground, and yet I understand their marked presence – and purpose – there with all those oaks and acorns now that I’ve read Slow Birding by Joan Strassman.

9: 50 a.m. – My husband emerged from the camper and had finished reading his book. He was ready for his typical breakfast of graham crackers and plain Chobani Greek yogurt, with coffee. I fixed my yogurt with fresh diced peaches, and we talked about the (probably) 5,000 pictures of the sunset I took (quietly) from the campsite over the weekend.

10:00 – Neither one of us wanted to leave. We were just ready to see the noisy neighbors pull out. He asked, “Is it just me, or did this trip seem a lot more relaxing than any camping trip we’ve ever taken?” I assured him it wasn’t just him – that we really did relax deeply, and that tomorrow we’d be back at work – – but that for today, we were savoring this Labor Day as we celebrate of all the workers who make our country an amazing place to live.

We raised our mugs to working hard so that we can play hard, too.

Great Egret perched on a post in the lake