Writing Reflection

As the year makes its way to the home stretch, I took some time to reflect on my writing habit. Or maybe I should say my lack of a writing habit.

I am almost to the end of a notebook, which has taken me much too long to fill. Running my fingers over the slight indentation of the ink on the pages, I reread some entries tonight. The poems, reflections, and memories came flooding back, and I realized how much I miss regular writing in my notebook. I have written a lot this year, but it has been more professional writing. But writing in a notebook is just...well it's just different.

I made a list of what kept me from writing this year. Three things bubbled up:  my phone, not creating a habit, and making excuses. These are three areas I intend to improve on in the coming year, and I know these will be the catalyst for my writing goals for 2024. 

My next decision:  Do I abandon a notebook that has taken too long to fill, or do I plug away and finish it before starting a new one in 2024. This is hard for me, as I am one who likes "fresh beginnings." 

What about you? Do you like new notebooks at the beginning of the year? Or are you a start-to-finish kind of notebooker?

Here's to writing in 2024! May my words return and find a home on the page.

 Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating a space to share our stories.

Why I Refuse to Wear an Ugly Christmas Sweater

 

I wasn't always a teacher. In my first career, I was in retail management. I managed two mall stores and eventually became a district manager, overseeing 14 stores in central Illinois and eventually moving back home to the southwestern Indiana area. 

I loved my job, especially at Christmas time. Our "early-bird" hours started at 8:00, and I loved working that Friday after Thanksgiving with the all the hustle and bustle. 

It was during this time, the 1980s, that I fell in love with Christmas sweaters. Beautifully hand-knitted 100% cotton, button-down sweaters and vests with appliqued Santas and snowmen. These sweaters were an endearing symbol of holiday cheer. 

Then the 1990s hit, and these sweaters lost their appeal because only "old people" wore them. They were being tossed out to secondhand stores like sunflower seeds to birds. Somewhere in the 2000s, people began shopping in the secondhand stores, and these Christmas sweaters experienced a rebirth.

Only this time, it wasn't an endearing symbol of holiday cheer. It was a mockery of something I adored. We began seeing these sweaters worn at company Christmas parties and in the workplace. And yes, I still thought they were beautiful.

The appeal of Christmas sweaters has snowballed in recent years and the mockery has hit an all-time high. Now, manufactures are intentionally creating "ugly Christmas sweaters" in 100% itchy acrylic, and people of all ages are holding "Ugly Christmas Sweater" Days. 

Call me old or literally "old-fashioned," but I refused to participate in Ugly Christmas Sweater Days. I think back to those retail days when life and shopping and Christmas sweater designs were beautifully simple, and I just. Can't. Do. It!

 Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating a space to share our stories. 

Haunted Haiku

My writing life has taken a dip, and I really needed a spark. So, this past weekend, Teach Write had a game night, and I participated. We played with Paint Chip Poetry cards and what fun we had! I have had this in my Amazon cart for quite a while, but for some reason, I have never bought it.

After playing it with writerly friends, I think it has to become mine!

We each chose 12 paint colors from a random color generator, and then used the prompt cards from the game.

In my first poem I used the following colors:  forward fushia, gory movie, and spicy red. The prompt card was "heartbreak." I chose to write a haunted haiku with it.

Forward Fushia

with spicy red lips
leaves trails of blood kisses like
a gory movie

Changing Seasons

Photo from Pixabay

Change is coming. I can feel it. 

Sitting on the porch as the late summer sun begins to slide down the back side of the day, a crispness wraps around me. The humidity of the morning rain has been chased away by the cool air. Just over the hill, the leaves on the trees bask in the yellow-tinted twilight. The locusts serenade me with their loud chorus, reminding me that change is coming.

I can feel it. And I welcome it.

 Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating a space to share our stories. 

Tea Party

 A little girl sits at her table with her "friends." The table is set with four little white plates with delicate pink flowers and a yellow butterfly, four cups and saucers, and a tea pot complete with a sugar bowl and cream pitcher.

The little girl slowly pours the Hi-C or Koolaid from the pot, carefully holding the lid tightly so it doesn't fall and break. She places a Chips Ahoy! chocolate chip cookie on each plate, and the tea party begins.

Fifty-five years or so ago, that little girl was me. I received this toy China tea set when I was around four or five years old, and it is one of the things I still have from my childhood.

There was a time when I had the tea set on a shelf on my bedroom wall. My little brother was jumping on my bed, hit the shelf, and broke one of the plates. I was devastated! 

Over the holiday weekend, I was telling this story to my brother and sisters. He, of course, remembered none of it. He asked me to send him a picture of it because "he didn't remember what it looked like."

Today, I received a big surprise.

With some sleuthing from my daughter, my brother searched Ebay until he found another one of these exact tea sets. My set is now complete!

Would anyone like to have to tea with me?

 Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating a space to share our stories. 

Far Away

Today I wrote to a Teach Write Academy prompt--"far away." Mom continues to slip farther away, much like this rowboat on the water. I chose to write a skinny poem.

A Simple Melody

My mother has dementia. As more of her memory fades with each passing day, we come closer and closer to making tough decisions. Lately she has mentioned how she just wants to go home. She still lives at home, so we are assuming that she is remembering her childhood home, as driving through that area of town seems to bring her joy.

It seems the childhood memories are the ones she keeps tucked away in a safe place.

Music also seems to bring her joy. When she listens to Dean Martin or Elvis Presley, it's like I have my mother back. This is when I wish time could stand still. 

A Stinky Surprise

I have written many slices from my front and back porches, and my time there continues to fill me with stories. 

Even stinky ones.

A few days ago, I was sitting on the back porch watching the Facebook live video with Kate and Maggie. Earlier that day, I had been watching a little bunny romp around the backyard nibbling on clover. 

As I was watching the video, I was zoned in when I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. Thinking the bunny had returned, I continued watching the video, not paying much attention to it.

All of a sudden, I noticed that what I thought was the bunny had come very close to the porch. Like about ten feet close. 

When I looked up, my heart stopped, and I quietly sucked in a breath. Moving very cautiously, I grabbed my phone and computer and quietly went in the house.

"There are skunks in the back yard! One mamma and four or five little babies. They came right up to me!" I was a little freaked out to say the least, as that was the closest I had ever been to a skunk--let alone five of them!

My husband and daughter ran to the back door to see what I was panicking about. We watched them mosey around the backyard and eventually into a drainpipe that runs under our street. 

This weekend I have sat on the porch every night and waited for them to come out. Every once in a while, when the wind was just right, I detected a faint scent. They hadn't sprayed, but I knew they were near.

About 9:00 pm, one by one they crawl out of the hole with their little bushy black and white tails waving in the air and nuzzling the ground searching for bugs to eat.

We live in town, not the country, and skunks are not what we want right outside our back door. But I have to say, those babies are adorable!

We obviously don't want five skunks in the neighborhood, but we do not have a plan yet to remedy this problem.

So, until then, I will continue to sit on my porch and watch them come out and play...from a safe distance, of course!

 Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating a space to share our stories. 

Solace & Connection {8}

    

Welcome to this week's nature-inspired invitation to write and connect. Each week, I will post a round-up, and you just need to write your blog post and link up at the bottom of my post. I leave a little inspiration each week, but you are free to write about nature:  prose, poetry, images, or anything else you would like to share. 

This week's inspiration doesn't come from a source, but a time of year. The summer solstice is on Wednesday, June 21st. What inspiration can your draw from this "longest day of the year?"

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Today, I leave you with pictures I took this weekend from my front porch, my favorite place in my home. Many stories come from my porch AND from these pictures. But I will wait on those for slices of life on Tuesday.

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Waiting

I wrote a slice, "What's That Smell," during the March Challenge about a plant I have had since 2008 from the funeral of either my dad or my father-in-law. 

It wasn't doing too well, so I brought it home from school, placed it in a bucket of water, and I waited.

And waited.

After the root system became stronger and to try and save it, I cut all the leaves off and planted the roots deep in the dirt in a new pot. I placed it in the window in my office where the late afternoon sun comes in, and I waited.

And waited some more.

This was one of those situations where I knew I did what I could, and I just hoped for the best! 

I wish you could have seen my joy two months later when I began to see tiny green leaves poke their heads out and begin to unfurl from the dirt. 

Even from the most difficult challenges, new life can begin again if the conditions are right. Somehow this plant reminds me of my students, and I am sure there is a metaphor growing deep in this dirt about teaching. 

But I will wait for that writing muse to find me as I watch this beautiful plant continue to grow.

I am trying the same procedure with another plant that has sat on the corner of my desk since my first year of teaching (18 years ago) and is not doing well. 

And so...I continue to wait.

 Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating a space to share our stories.

Solace & Connection {7}

     

Welcome to this week's nature-inspired invitation to write and connect. Each week, I will post a round-up, and you just need to write your blog post and link up at the bottom of my post. I leave a little inspiration each week, but you are free to write about nature:  prose, poetry, images, or anything else you would like to share. 

This week's inspiration comes from The Curious Nature Guide by Clare Walker Leslie where she encourages us to take a night walk. "Let your eyes and mind adjust to being out after dark. How do the smells, sounds, and colors of night differ from those of daytime? Which of your senses feel most alive?"

I hope you take some time this week to take a night walk and spend some time with the night sky. 

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When my children were younger, we would always try to be the one to see the first firefly of the season. Now that they are adults, I still text them when I see my first one. This past week, I was sitting on my back porch, and it was dark. Although I have seen a few fireflies, they have not been in abundance yet. 

I looked over in the line of white pines, and the fireflies were putting on an early show. There were only a few, but they were dancing with partners and entertaining me with their lights. I wrote a cherita, a poem consisting of a one-line stanza followed by a two and three lined stanza and also tells a story.

Fireflies 

waltzing with their partners

between the white pines,

perform against 

the dark curtain of nighttime

in three-quarter time.

Image by Monika from Pixabay

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A Morning Chuckle

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating this space to share my stories.

Sitting at my dining room table eating breakfast and reading the online edition of the newspaper, I hear screaming. I can tell it is one of the two young neighbor girls, but it isn't a "give me back my toy" scream. Or a "wee this is fun" scream.

It is a scream of terror. 

I jump up and open the door. I listen trying to understand what is going on.

The screaming continues, but all of sudden I hear the mother say, "It's not going to hurt you." 

I peer through the white pines that create a border between our two yards, and I see what is creating the fear.

A chicken.

Last night, our neighbors brought home chickens, and the chicken coop is between our two yards. I saw the girls out talking to the chickens, peering into the "chicken house" and taking a picture of their "first day" with the chickens. All of this mixed in with squeals and giggles.

But morning brought a different scene. I know nothing about chickens, so I am guessing this was the first morning for feeding them and maybe gathering eggs. 

And I don't know who was more afraid:  Violet or the new chicken!

Solace & Connection {6}

      

Welcome to this week's nature-inspired invitation to write and connect. Each week, I will post a round-up, and you just need to write your blog post and link up at the bottom of my post. I leave a little inspiration each week, but you are free to write about nature:  prose, poetry, images, or anything else you would like to share. 

This week's inspiration comes from a Ruth Ayres lead in the Choice Literacy Big Fresh weekly newsletter. She writes about times when she and her children "name the sky." It is a lovely piece, and I hope you will take some to read it.

I hope you take some time to observe the sky and write about how you would name it.

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As the new day dawns

I reach into my wounded heart,

searching for

the unspoken words of

forgiveness.

My team at school has been going through a difficult time. One day last week, I snapped this picture from our school parking lot and thought about Ruth's writing. With the sun trying to appear from the breaks in the clouds, I knew this sky was named "Forgiveness." 

I hope you will join me in naming your sky or writing about the world around you.

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Annotated Playlist

Each month I participate in a writing challenge with my Teach Write writing group. This month we were challenged to write an annotated playlist. 

For me, songs take me back to certain places and time spent with special people. I chose three songs for this challenge although I could have chosen so many more.

My Annotated Playlist

Achy Breaky Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus—Dancing in the kitchen with 6-month old Megan in my arms, my heart was anything but achy or breaky. It was filled with motherhood joy.

Remember When by Alan Jackson—June 12, 2010, I sat in the church with tears streaming down my cheeks as this song played. Aunt Pam’s “remember whens” were cut short at the age of 52. 

You Raise Me Up by Josh Groban—This song marks one of my most significant life decisions. Could I do this at the age of 40? While contemplating the decision, this song came on the radio several times. I knew it was a sign to say yes. Yes, to returning to school to become a teacher.

Marilyn Miner, who is in our group, made a comment about how music can not only take us back but also move us forward. There is so much truth in this statement. Music has such power.

 After participating in the Slice of Life March Challenge by Two Writing Teachers, I am continuing to write my stories with other teacher-writers as we share a slice of life on Tuesdays.

Rumors

Have you ever read something set in a time period that makes you wonder, "Has time really passed?"

I just finished Under the Broken Sky by Mariko Nagai, a novel in verse about two Japanese girls escaping the Soviet Army during World War II. One poem was titled "Rumors." This poem is about how the civilians would hear different stories, or rumors, such as Americans wiped out Japan--no one is alive. The Emperor has been killed, or Japan is now part of America. People were confused and didn't know what was really happening with this war, and they didn't know how long ago the "rumors" they heard had actually happened. They didn't know who to trust.

Here are the last three stanzas in the poem:

"I don't trust anything

anyone says.

It's like on that day

I found out about 

Japan's surrender.

All the things I thought

were true were lies,

and only lies matter

in this world now."

This scene took place in 1945 and all I could think about as I read this poem was how this could describe our world still today. A world bombarded with mistrust and lies.

The only difference is today we get the lies within seconds.

 After participating in the Slice of Life March Challenge by Two Writing Teachers, I am continuing to write my stories with other teacher-writers as we share a slice of life on Tuesdays.

Solace & Connection {5}

    

Welcome to this week's nature-inspired invitation to write and connect. Each week, I will post a round-up, and you just need to write your blog post and link up at the bottom of my post. I leave a little inspiration each week, but you are free to write about nature:  prose, poetry, images, or anything else you would like to share. 

Today's inspiration comes from The Curious Nature Guide:  "Write a short story or poem about a recent weather event you have experienced." 

It seems that spring brings many unexpected weather events. Some events can happen and change within weeks, days, or even minutes. So, how's the weather in your part of the world?

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Today was a day filled with change. One minute it was sunny, and the next it was raining and hailing, and then the pattern started all over again.

Sun beams 

cast shadows 

on the sidewalk

and usher in 

dark clouds

filled with raindrops

and hailstones

the size of a pea.

I look out over the trees

and a rainbow 

greets me--

Mother Nature's indecisiveness. 

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A Good Deed?

Image on Pixabay

Each week when I go to the store, I shake my head and wonder, "How in the world do some people afford to eat these days?" I am flabbergasted at the food prices, and I know how lucky I am because we are a two-income household. I am so grateful for what I have.

I know stores across the country are closing due to the high shrinkage levels. Even Walmart! I have a background in retail management and know many theft prevention practices, yet catching shoplifters is a tricky situation, and employees have to be careful when they believe someone is stealing from them.

While I was at the store on Saturday, I saw a man at the end of the aisle who looked a little suspicious. My retail instinct went into action. As I watched him, I realized that he was placing items in the waistband of his pants and under a bulky jacket. It looked like packages of meat. He dropped a banana, and I saw him stuff it into a pocket.

I immediately found an employee and described the man to her. As he came around a corner, he saw her and turned around and went in the other direction. I went about my business and checked out. As I was putting my groceries in my car, the employee came out, and I asked her about what happened. 

"He saw me watching him, and he dumped the items in the frozen food section. Thanks a lot for letting us know."

I know times are tough, and it is hard for many families to put food on the table. But that doesn't mean stealing is the answer. I live in a small community, and we have so many resources available to help people with food emergencies. 

I left there thinking I had done my good deed for the day. If that is so, then why does a part of me feel so bad now about reporting him?

 After participating in the Slice of Life March Challenge by Two Writing Teachers, I am continuing to write my stories with other teacher-writers as we share a slice of life on Tuesdays.

Solace & Connection {4}

   

Welcome to this week's nature-inspired invitation to write and connect. Each week, I will post a round-up, and you just need to write your blog post and link up at the bottom of my post. I leave a little inspiration each week, but you are free to write about nature:  prose, poetry, images, or anything else you would like to share. 

I am a little late this as it was a busy one for me! This week's inspiration comes from a Facebook post from Georgia Heard on Earth Day. She asks us to "Put on your poet's eyes & open your heart today and write a poem about the beauty of the earth."

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

My First Experience with AI

Something happened this week that completely took me by surprise. I knew it would eventually happen, but I just didn't think it would be so soon.

This past weekend I was grading essays and came across one that was very well written. Too well written. It wasn't 6th grade writing, and it certainly wasn't typical of the work I've seen from this student.

I took my usual next step of putting it through a plagiarism checker. Nothing showed up--100% unique. I tried a few others and received the same results.

Image from Pixabay

I was stumped. 

And then occurred to me...artificial intelligence? Could it be? Could a 6th grader know how to do that? Could I be so naive to think this wouldn't happen in my classroom of 6th graders?

Monday came, and I had the students--yes, I am up to four now--bring me their computers. I searched their history, and sure enough, there it was. Searches and links to AI websites.

Right now, we have no policies in place, but I told my principal, "We better get ready. It's not coming; it's here."

We began testing this week, so I have not addressed it with the students yet, but this was certainly a wake-up call for me.

If you have any experience with students using AI to "cheat" I would love to hear how you and/or your school handled it. I am obviously not prepared!

 After participating in the Slice of Life March Challenge by Two Writing Teachers, I am continuing to write my stories with other teacher-writers as we share a slice of life on Tuesdays.