March 2021 SOLC–Day 11 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. www.twowritingteachers.org
“I’m thinking of taking out a personal ad!” I announced in a rush as I blew in the door after work yesterday. “Have you ever written one? How do they go anyway?”
My husband, pretty secure after 30+ years of wedded bliss, just looked at me quizzically. I explained, laughing, that after continued frustration on-line, frantically trying to capture an elusive vaccine appointment (see yesterday’s blog), I’ve decided to change my approach. With this context, he was 100% on board and even helped with some abbreviations. (Thanks, Kurt!) Here’s the rough draft (regretfully revised to take out those abbreviations that cracked us up but might be a bit too provocative):
ISO Good Times With A BBV*!
I’m a 50-something MWF**. A bit frazzled these days, but at my best, I’m a fair amount of fun. I enjoy large gatherings, public transportation, and touching my face. Tired of the on-line scene and compulsive hand washing, I’m seeking a long-term relationship with a BBV*. Preferably not too hot. I’m not the type to discriminate. I will consider all offers, and I’m willing to travel to meet up. I’m hoping for hugs and hand-holding, mask-less walks on the beach, and maybe even some romantic, candlelight indoor dining! No need for casual conversation. I’m looking to add some adventure to my life! Let’s make a date! Soon!
So what do you think?
*BBV=big beautiful vaccine **MWF= married white female
March 2021 SOLC–Day 10 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
Everyone’s talking about it and it’s hard to know exactly what’s true and what to do.
“I hear you can get on a wait list if you call directly.”
“They said on the news there won’t be as many doses available this week.”
“You have to log in at midnight to find new appointments.”
“I hear the school is going to send an e-mail with a link.”
This past weekend, the message from a friend came in early.
“Just scheduled both doses!”
“What!? Where? How’d you do it?”
“Walgreens. It refreshes at 7am. You have to make an account beforehand and get ready to go right at 7. Have a list of zip codes and be prepared to leave your area.” This was followed up by another quick message, “Oh…and enter lots of zip code options. You’ve got to be willing to travel.”
“OK. Thanks! I’ll try tomorrow.”
Next morning…7 am…it begins.
I log into the Walgreen’s site.
04008
“No appointments available within 25 miles of Bowdoinham, Maine for next three days.”
04011
“No appointments available within 25 miles of Brunswick, Maine for next three days.”
04101
“No appointments available within 25 miles of Portland, Maine for next three days.”
After attempting 5 or 6 more zip codes, I switch over to our local grocery store chain, Hannaford.
04008
“No appointments available within 50 miles of Bowdoinham, Maine.”
04011
“No appointments available within 50 miles of Brunswick, Maine.”
I keep at it, entering zip code after zip code with no success.
Then this happens:
What!? Are you kidding me?
This process is really taxing my recent effort to “keep it positive”.
March 2021 SOLC–Day 9 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
Here are three recent snippets from my classroom for your entertainment.
“Mrs. Hogan, you know what I just realized?” A. said. “What?” “I dress like a gender reveal!” “What!?” I asked, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean?” “Well,” she explained, beaming, “today I’m all in blue and yesterday I was all in pink. It’s like I’m a gender reveal!”
2. We’d just finished reading a Charles Waters poem that ended with the lines: “Then Mom says the dreaded words no kid should ever have to hear… “”Wait till your father gets home.”
The kids in my class groaned in commiseration.
“Yeah, that’s the worst!”
“Oh, yeah! My mom always says that!”
Then R. piped up, “Yeah!” He paused. “Well, actually, no. My dad’s more like a butterfly. Not a scorpion.”
Another pause. Then… “That’s my mom.”
Ouch! Now that’s a stinger!
3. And finally, randomly in the middle of snack recently, M. called out, “And for today’s fun fact…teachers used to hit their students with rulers!”
March 2021 SOLC–Day 8 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
Much to my delight, we were able to visit the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland, Maine late last month. After entering at the time designated on our pre-purchased tickets, we were instructed how to follow the safety protocols of the museum. The main instruction was to sanitize and then follow the careful trail of directional arrows through the galleries. No backtracking. They instructed us to keep six feet between us and anyone else, but since we only saw 4 other people during our visit, that wasn’t a challenge. We happily entered and immediately immersed ourselves in the art.
About midway through our “guided tour” we came upon this painting.
It’s not really my style, but it was a striking painting and the vivid swirl of colors drew my eyes immediately. What is it? I wondered. I leaned closer to check out the informational panel. The piece was titled “Hammerhead” and was painted by David Salle.
Is that ahammerhead shark? Or is it the head of a hammer? Could it be a person?
I tilted my head one way and then the other. I still wasn’t sure. I read on seeking clarity. What soon became clear was that I was not the only one questioning what objects were at the center of Salle’s painting. The panel quoted him responding, “…to focus on where the images come from distorts their life together in a painting.”
Hmmmm…This got me thinking about writing and the various bits and pieces that can come together in a poem or a story. Sometimes I wonder where these ideas come from–when I’m reading someone else’s work or when I’m writing my own pieces. But does it really matter? Is it important where these “images” come from?
Earlier in the museum, I’d lingered in the gallery of Andrew Wyeth paintings. I loved reading about his life, his relationships, his love of Maine. This influenced how I viewed his work. For example, knowing that the man Wyeth painted in “Adrift” was his childhood companion enriched my experience of that piece.
a close up of Adrift by Andrew Wyeth
And in my own work, origin does matter to me. I find that I learn a lot about myself when I write. Part of that learning comes from sifting through and choosing which bits and pieces to try to capture on the page. Often the learning comes from the objects and images that bubble up without my conscious intent. But is that important for my reader to know? Or Salle’s viewer?
Does understanding or knowing the origin of images add to the emotional resonance or impact of a piece of art? Or is it really about how images exist and interact on the canvas or on the page that is the most critical? I know which way I’m leaning, but I’m still pondering.
March 2021 SOLC–Day 7 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
Just last week I saw this photo on my friend’s Facebook page:
Photo by Cate Kastriner
I responded immediately:
This looked like an alien landscape to me. Flowers blooming? Bright colors!? BEES!? I almost felt the need to shield my eyes. Realizing that this was a current photo from Delaware–not some exotic locale–brought home to me how far from spring we still are here. Spring in Maine is just a bit more gritty and subtle than in other places. While others are celebrating new growth and warmer temperatures, we’re still entrenched in winter. Occasional wild temperature swings launch us into hope and then plunge us back down into cold bitter despair. This past week it was in the 40s on Monday and on Tuesday, the wind chill at recess was about 3˚ F. Truth.
It’s hard to be positive or to regard family and friend’s photos of new growth and blossoms as anything other than a slap in the face. Will spring ever arrive?
Then, on Friday, while driving to school, I noticed a couple of orange signs blossoming along the road. Oh, my inner optimist reasserted itself, Frost heave! This is looking promising! For the uninitiated, road upheaval, or frost heave, is a sure sign of changing temperatures and spring coming. (and spine jostling and car damage…but remember, I’m channeling my inner optimist here!)
Not too many miles later, I saw a pile of sad smashed porcupine alongside the road. While I truly did mourn the porcupine’s passing, I couldn’t help but think, “Oh, a porcupine! I haven’t seen one in ages. Spring must be coming!” (I really did think this!)
Also, the sun is getting noticeably warmer and the gritty snowy ice banks are melting. If you look just right, there’s even some beauty to be found there.
On a sweeter note, I’ve also seen sap buckets sprouting on the maple trees along our road. Soon the playground will show signs of spring as well — in fact, it thawed beautifully just the other day!
Before you know it, thin pale stalks of legs and delicate ankles will be visible, too! We’ll be arguing with kids about the need to wear a coat (Oh–wait–we’re already doing that!) and explaining that while temps in the 40s are worth celebrating, they don’t necessitate shorts wearing.
Signs of spring in Maine may be just a bit more gritty and subtle than in other places, but things are definitely looking up, if you just know where to look. Spring is definitely on its way!
March 2021 SOLC–Day 6 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
I woke this Saturday morning with a heavy feeling. A weight in the pit of my stomach.
The weight shifted, and I realized it was my cat.
Later, after dislodging said cat and drinking a cup of coffee, I realized I’ve never properly thanked my cats for their morning efforts on my behalf. So, here goes…
Dear Squirrel and Juniper,
I’m writing to thank you for your dedication. You have clearly appointed yourselves the responsible parties for ensuring that I remain gainfully employed. I know you also are well aware that I love watching the sunrise, and I appreciate how consistent you are in ensuring that I don’t ever miss one. You even allow for plenty of commute time in case I want to drive elsewhere to watch it. There is no need for an alarm clock with you two around! I’m certain that your morning servings of Meow Mix and Temptations treats do not influence your motivation in the slightest. I know you have only the purest, most selfless, of intentions.
Things never get boring with you two around! While the sure-fired walking up and down my spine or over my stomach (again and again and again) always works, it’s nice to mix it up with a cold nose to the face. Squirrel, you especially excel at this! Juniper, the recent tapping at my skull with the merest hint of claw exposed was effective, but perhaps stepped over the line a bit. I’m not saying I don’t admire your creativity, but perhaps you need to temper your enthusiastic job performance.
Also, no one can say you’re all work and no play! You get the job done, but also make sure to build in a bit of fun. How did you know I’d enjoy crawling on my hands and knees in the dark with my hands groping to find my glasses, my Fitbit, and sometimes even my phone? Wow! You start your day honing your stealth batting moves as you launch those items off the beside table one by one, and then, the thuds as they hit the floor efficiently rouse me. Masterful efficiency! You’ve gotten some exercise, I’m awake, and I get to start the day with an exciting challenge. Impressive!
Finally, I appreciate your ongoing concern for my physical health. Walking on my computer while I’m trying to write is a clear reminder to me that it’s important to take time to pet you. I know you know all about those studies that show that stroking pets is calming and brings down blood pressure. Squirrel, your strategy of aggressively snuggling and lying on my arms is unique to you. It can’t be that comfortable for you, but it ensures that I don’t ignore my health and well being by working too hard. Juniper, the technique of having me get up and down to let you in and out multiple times within a few minutes is brilliant! It must be exhausting and annoying for you, but it’s a great way to get my aerobic exercise in for the day. I so appreciate both of your sacrifices on my behalf, and I feel reassured knowing that you have my health in mind at all times.
So, in recognition of all that both of you do for me each morning, I’m giving you a day off! Yes! Tomorrow, Sunday, you can sleep in. Somehow, I’ll manage to muddle through without you.
March 2021 SOLC–Day 5 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
I mentioned in a recent post that I’ve been allowing my brain to free range on the commute to school. Instead of listening to an audiobook or to the radio, I’ve been letting silence reign in the car. I find my mind moving all over the place, jumping from thing to thing to thing. Here are a few of the thoughts that popped into my mind on the way to work yesterday before school-related thoughts took over:
I really love spying hawks along the highway. I wonder how many I’ve driven past without seeing them. I wish I’d paid more attention to the birds over my life. I’m trying to make up for that these days. “Hi, Hawk!” I say aloud as a I pass one. I repeat it again shortly afterward when I pass another, admiring the long rays of the rising sun on his breast, adding, “Aren’t you a beauty!?”
Is it possible that the guy in that blue Honda doesn’t realize that he’s on tailgating the person in front of him? Maybe instead of being aggressive or in a hurry, he’s just spaced out. Maybe his brain is free ranging, too. OK. Now that guy over there in that red truck is just a total jerk. No two ways about it.
Do aggressive four square players become aggressive drivers? OMG, the thought of some of the current fourth graders as drivers is really, really frightening. I consider all the aggressive cherry bombing and my thoughts go straight to road rage. I make a concerted effort to change the direction of my thoughts.
I miss my sisters. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I’ve seen any of them. We Zoom weekly now but that’s not really seeing, and we haven’t breathed the same air in…1 1/2 or 2 …years? How can that be? I ask Siri to text my oldest sister, “I miss you!”
The sky is amazing this morning. Patches of gray clouds are purple lit from below. I love watching the evolution of the morning sky, but seldom spend time looking at the night sky. Why is that? The last few evenings, my daughter has come in from work at around 7, announcing, “The stars are gorgeous tonight!” I’d like to take time to look at the night sky. If only the wind would die down or the temperatures would rise. Somehow it feels exponentially colder to me when it’s dark outside. Is that a thing?
I remember reading a book that described the night sky as similar to sparks of light shining through a colander. The author said it much more poetically than that. I think it was in “Transatlantic” by Colum McCann. I need to reread that passage. Oh, I’m pretty sure I listened to it so that could be tricky. Maybe I can check it out when I go to the library tomorrow.
Could I write a poem that goes like this?: Once I read a book where the stars shone as if through a colander in the sky Now when I gaze heavenward all I can think about is spaghetti.
This strikes me as incredibly humorous and I laugh out loud and quickly ask Siri to take a note so I don’t forget.
I spy the moon, pale in the morning sky, and it seems like it was just full and now it’s waning so quickly. Somehow that makes me feel a bit sad. I know for sure that space will always dizzy me with its numbers and entrance me with its glories. How do people make sense of these huge numbers anyway? This universe? I’m not sure I even want to try to understand it all. Is that a bad thing?
And so on and so on and so on….
Thanks for joining me on my free ranging commute. What do you think about on the way to work?
March 2021 SOLC–Day 4 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
This post serves double duty for SOL and the Poetry Friday Roundup.
On the way to school on Wednesday, I let my mind wander aimlessly from one idea to another. Usually, I listen to the radio or to an audiobook. (I just finished “Once Upon a River” by Diane Setterfield and highly recommend it!) In recent weeks, I’ve more often opted to turn off the stories and allow my mind to free range. This is very unusual for me, but I don’t really have the capacity to take in any more information these days. I find that allowing my brain to skip around as it wants is a helpful way to clear some of the debris out of the way before the day begins.
Today, my mind was happily skipping along until…OMG! I suddenly remembered that my critique group challenge post was due this week. And I hadn’t even started. I hadn’t even thought about it. Oops. (Hmmmm….I’ve said that a lot lately.)
So, when I got home from work, I looked up the challenge. It was from Margaret Simon and based on an Amanda Gorman poetry prompt that she called “Book Scavenger Hunt.” The prompt directs you to choose a book, choose three random page numbers, turn to each of those pages and choose one word that appeals to you. Then, with those three words, create a poem.
I opted to use the book “This Book is Anti-Racist,” in part because, despite my best intentions, I still haven’t read it. (To be honest, it was also in part because the book was easily accessible at the moment I thought about working on this.) For no reason in particular, I chose pages 15, 45, and 60. At any rate, I opened to each page and considered my options. By chance, two of the page numbers I chose, were title pages, with very few words. I’m not sure if that was good or bad, but it certainly expedited the process. On the other page, I tried to let my eyes skim the page and choose a word quickly. While I don’t think this is necessary, I liked the idea of the words being somewhat random. Interestingly, my words felt like a set. I ended up with identity, sense, and history. Here’s my very quickly written, drafty poem:
When I write
When I write, most often, I’m not writing stories. Instead, I’m trying to make sense of my own story– sifting through my history, creating my identity, building myself, one word at a time.
This is such an accessible prompt and I’m sorry that I had a very limited amount of time and brain power to work with it. I’m looking forward to revisiting it some other time. You can visit the following sites to check out what the others in my group did with it: Heidi Mordhorst Catherine Flynn Linda Mitchell Margaret Simon
This week the Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by my warm and wonderful Aussie friend, Kat Apel. She’s celebrating the release of her newest picture book, “The Bird in the Herd.” Head on over to her blog for a sneak peek at this newly released treat!
March 2021 SOLC–Day 3 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
We’ve been working face-to-face in a continually evolving hybrid model all year. In general, classes were split into two smaller groups and one group came on Mondays and Wednesdays, while the other group came on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They alternated Fridays. Some students (students of staff, students receiving SDI, etc) came all 5 days. We created daily agendas that spelled out, in detail, what work to do on their “at home” learning days. It’s been intense but we’ve gotten used to it. The kids have been amazing!
During the year, other grades in our Pre-K-8 school with smaller class sizes have been able to come back full time. Finally, this past Monday, after much consideration, creative thinking, organizing, and the completion of a new modular unit built with CARES money, all 3rd and 4th grade students came back, too. I’m not going to elaborate about the model that we’re in now. Suffice it to say that it’s a work in progress, but after mini-lessons, we’re rotating out small groups of children with an extra adult for independent work in a different space. That way we can continue to have a bit more space for our workshop style of learning. Once again, we’re calling on kids to make big changes and show ongoing flexibility as we work out the kinks.
Prior to Monday, my teaching partner and I put a lot of thought into how to support our students as we build new classroom communities. Many of them haven’t seen each other in over a year. Some of them have never been in class together. Some of them are new to our school this year and have never met each other before. We wanted kids to enter this expanded classroom with a positive lens, thinking about their own strengths and what they bring to the team.
So, on the first day back, after time for greetings and logistical explanations, we carved some time out of our regular schedule.
“Think about the strongest communities you have been a part of–your scouting groups, classes, families, book clubs, partnerships, etc. Now think, what makes them so strong? What makes a powerful community or group?” I asked.
Hands flew up.
“Being kind,” someone offered. I jotted it on the board.
“Listening to each other,” another student volunteered. That went on the board as well.
“Having a sense of humor!”
“Being flexible!”
“Being optimistic!”
Soon we had an impressive list of strengths compiled.
“So, now that we’re all back together, we’re building a new community,” I said, ” and each of us brings many strengths with us. Think about yourself. What is one strength or trait you bring to our new community? You can use our list to help you, or you might think of something else entirely.”
I asked them to depict their contributing strength (or two or three) in words and/or illustrations on a “brick” and then color it.
Here are a couple of finished products:
After collecting them all, here’s what my colleague and I created on the hallway bulletin board between our rooms. We’re still a few blocks shy with some absent students, but we’re pretty pleased.
Today when I get to school, I’m going to add the final words in the upper right corner:
Building On Our Strengths!!!
I can’t wait to see the kids’ reactions when they come in this morning and see what they’ve already created together.
March 2021 SOLC–Day 2 A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow. http://www.twowritingteachers.org
Recently, I decided to paint the upstairs hallway.
Wait a minute. That’s not exactly right. It’s more accurate to say that “Recently, I re-decided to paint the upstairs hallway.” Let me back up.
Last March (or maybe early April) my husband and I decided to buy paint to paint the upstairs hallway. We figured we’d be housebound for a while and would be in need of a project. Why not paint? So, we carefully considered our color options, then braved the growing lines at the hardware store to buy the paint, brushes and other accoutrements. Apparently, all that activity wore us out, because all those items sat patiently in the mud room until about a week ago.
Yup. You did the math right. It’s been about a year.
For some reason, over our Winter Break in February, I decided to finally start this long conceived of paint job.
When I got started, I figured I had to clean first, so I attacked the spider web laden corners. Then, I wiped down the walls, one by one. Finally, I started working on the trim–the window seat, the windows, the baseboards and the doors. The doors! This hall has 5 doors. How had I not realized that before? I mean, talk about trim! Working my way around the hallway, I wiped down the bathroom door. I wiped down my youngest daughter’s door. I wiped down the closet door. Then I stopped at my oldest daughter’s room and her door.
Oh, I thought. How did I not think about this? How can I possibly paint over the Dr. Who door?
My paint job suddenly got a lot more complicated.
My daughter is almost 26 now and lives way too far away in Philadelphia. Due to Covid, we’ve seen her once in the past 14 months. She probably painted this door over a decade ago, in the midst of Dr. Who fandom, but when I imagined painting over it now, I froze. Tears pricked. My throat thickened painfully. I was startled by the intensity of my reaction. Come on, Molly. It’s just a door! But I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t help feeling that painting it would be like erasing a memory. Or a little bit of her childhood. I stood there a long while, thinking, remembering. Missing her now. Missing her then. Oh. I don’t think I can do this. Honestly, I’m not 100% sure I was thinking just about the paint job at that point.
“I don’t think I can paint Addie’s door,” I told my husband a little bit later. My voice caught. “It makes me almost cry just to think about it.” I swallowed hard.
“So, don’t,” he said, simply. Gently. “Wait until you’re ready. You can always do it later.”
Later that day, I started to paint, deciding that I wouldn’t decide about the door until I had to. Over the next day or two, I painted the ceiling. I painted the walls. I painted the second coat on the walls. Then I started on the trim. It was s-l-o-w going. Did I mention there are 5 doors!? And a window seat? And baseboards. Let’s just say that the end of vacation arrived before I finished, and before I had to make a decision.
So, to update, the paint has moved from exile in the mudroom, but is now upstairs in a tarp-draped hallway that is about half done. Maybe two-thirds, if I’m being optimistic. And I’m back at school with the ever-insane month of March ahead of me. Lots to do and very little spare time for projects.
Oops.
I still haven’t decided if I’m painting over the Dr. Who door or not.
Nix the comfort zone 