Some of you know that during this past month, I’ve been participating in a 30 day writing challenge called Write Yourself Alive. It’s been great. I’ve met new people. Thought of new things. Tried things I hadn’t tried before. Some have worked for me but, seemingly, not so much for others. Some have worked for others but not quite clicked for me. Some I’ve just missed because there’s been a spot of real life and plumbing sprinkled liberally amidst the rarified realms of poetry and reflection.
The Dog Show Came Again!
Hi, Everybody!
It’s me, again. Sarah. I was so excited about the dog show, Mom said I could tell about it this year!
I’ve lived here almost 2 years, now, and this is my second time for the dog show. Mom says there are lots of them but this one is the big one. The Westminster Kennel Club show. It happens right about Valentine’s Day every year. I thought Valentine’s Day was cool because Mom made her fancy new chocolate chip cookies for Dad. Maybe the dog show is even better, though. We had dinner early both nights and all sat on the couch together, which really works for me! (Besides, no chocolate for dogs!)
An Untitled Poem and a Valentine Photo
This poem grew out of the writing prompt for day 9 of the WriteYourselfAlive challenge. Our task was to write a poem and then voice record and post it online. Some of you have seen hints of what came after this on my Facebook posts. Let me assure you that, temporary feelings aside, all is well. (Except for the voice recording of this which I still haven’t convinced myself, or figured out how, to do. We’ll see what happens next!)
It snowed. Just a little.
I know this because the dog felt the need to bark at the snow.
I sewed. Or tried.
A Room for an Author
On Monday I began my third round of the 30 day writing challenge called WriteYourselfAlive. Each day includes some inspirational quotes and some prompts for writing. On day 3, the prompt suggested writing, with lots of sensory detail, about our favorite writing space, actual or imagined. This is mine. The real deal. An author named Annie Dillard feels that writers should work in basically empty, not very comfortable, completely uninspiring spaces that will not distract them from the truth of what needs saying. I’ve enjoyed some of her work quite a lot but I don’t think I’m going to her place to write!
Bill says I am a cat. (Orange tabby. Nice wide face. Not the pinchy-faced kind. Huge sea green eyes. Twitchy tail.)
It’s Twins!!!
So, I’ve been busy catching/resting up after our big trip to see the kids over Mothers’ Day weekend. I’ve been trying to figure out how to boil it all down enough to tell you about it but I haven’t quite gotten there yet. Let’s say, for now, my heart is full. Details to follow!
Instead, a bit of a detour. Two tomatoes!!! This after years of frustration and rotting, squirrel tooth marked disappointment. Seasons of hopes dashed amongst miles of vines and no blooms. Hours of watering and composting and feeling as though I’d never get my Steel Magnolia membership card.
Meanwhile, back on the farm…
Pardon my absence. Several things have conspired to keep me away!
After struggling for about a week with a dislocated rib, I wandered out to the garden the other day. Where, just the day before, had been gorgeous, tender baby collard greens, I found leaves full of holes and pitiful stems with no leaves at all. I was appalled!
Further investigation revealed caterpillars. Exactly the same color as the leaves and sitting just along the vein that runs from the stem up into the leaves. And, on the back, babies just waiting to get bigger and even hungrier.
The Hungry, Hungry Caterpillar this was not!
Look What Followed Me Home!
On one of those recent days when it almost, but not quite, rained all day, I was headed home from a lunch meeting, my inner locavore foodie in a very needy mood! My car, being fairly intuitive as those things go, somehow wound up on the curb in front of Pine Street Market in Avondale. Shopping at Pine Street is a bit of an adventure because you’re never quite sure what you’ll find. It depends on what the farmers brought!
Well, on that particular day, I was in luck! Ribeye steaks. Big, gorgeous, thick ribeye steaks. Owner and master butcher, Rusty Bowers, was all too happy to tell me about the steaks.