Across Five Marches (SOLSC 16/31)

I wasn't sure what to write about, and for inspiration I went to my photos on my phone.  It turned into an exercise in scrolling to previous years, specifically March.  Here is a collection of observations from the past five years.

March 2018 

Here we have a trip to the zoo and a local garden.  More specifically, it was one of my first outings with my first niece.  Ivey was a few months old in the pictures.  I am smiling so broadly, happy to have a little partner in adventure. 

March 2019 

A long standing tradition for me in March is to travel and go out into nature.  And no location is more visited than Hot Springs.  I was drawn to the picture of me and my friends enjoying ice cream and also margaritas.  Good food is also a must this time of year!

March 2020

And then there was the year I couldn't go anywhere, but could still enjoy the simple things.  I baked bread and decorated my car for a teacher parade through our local neighborhoods.  

March 2021

While I wasn't quite ready to travel the following year, I did get out again.  This was a time to be outdoors and embracing the beautiful weather this time of year has to offer.  I even found the slice I wrote from the pictures I took.

March 2022

Last year I finally got to travel again.  Not only did I see Ivey and her family (now including a second niece for me to love and adventure with), but we went on a family cruise together! The pictures remind me of my love of travel and all the places I have been and and have yet to go.

I can't wait to share the rest of March 2023 with you all.

Pick Up Sticks (SOLSC 14/31)

I am seeing more and more evidence of the beginnings of spring.  The itty bitty buds on the tree -- leaves just barely peeking out at the morning sun.  It's new life on a tree that was otherwise completely bare.  It still LOOKS bare until you get up close.  

Below, there is a smattering of sticks scattered around the base of the same tree.  It's old life shed from encounters with all of the wind and rain we have experienced in the past few weeks.  

I can't help but smile and remember a time when I myself was just beginning and the sticks I used to see everywhere in my pawpaw's yard.  The tiny buds remind me of my own tiny hands, clasped around the cool metal handle of a bright red wagon.  

In the summer, my pawpaw would set us out to pick up objects in his backyard -- I assume now that it might have been to help him have an easier time mowing.  I was accompanied by my sister as we dragged that wagon among the many trees of my pawpaw's backyard.  Every few feet we would stop and begin the process of picking up the trees' discarded items: sticks, pine cones, and green apples.  

Each would be tossed into the wagon and we would move on.  When we were done, my pawpaw always awarded us with some of his pocket change for our efforts.

Now, as I navigate the sidewalk with my dog, I have to resist the urge to stop and pick up some of the sticks.

Today's writing was inspired by one of the March Daily Writing Prompt from Teach Write.

A Mothly Encounter

 As I cross the threshold back in my apartment, a yellow and brown speckled form catches my eye. I pause, foot hovering as I get a better look, and without thinking blurt: "Oh!  Aren't you gorgeous?"  

It's an unexpected encounter, but not an unpleasant one: a moth is sprawled out on my doormat.  I will later learn that it's an imperial moth, which means in some ways I was blessed with a royal encounter.

I let my dog off his leash and turn back around, squatting over the moth's prone form.  They don't move or stir.  I try to be optimistic and hope they are only just tired from flying with wings so large.  I find myself instead leaning towards pessimism, thinking they are probably dying.

After taking a picture, I pocket my phone and scoop them into my hand.  They flutter a little, which I find reassuring, and I decide that lying on my doormat is perhaps not the safest harbor for them.  I carefully carry them around the corner to one of my potted plants, depositing them to rest there.

Later, when I find them gone, I hope that it is because they were able to fly away and not because some other creature decided they would make for a tasty snack.

Summer Series Part 3: A Stop Along the Road

Summer, at least as far as I'm concerned, usually revolves around three things: fun, food, and family. I've already shared my fun experience on the beach and my various food experiences this summer.  So that leaves this post for capturing a moment with my family -- and there were several as you can probably guess. I said I was going to do four or five of these blogs and (darn it) even though school has begun I am determined to capture some sweet, sweet summer moments on my blog before they fade even more.  

I think for this particular post, I want to focus on sharing with you some highlights from my family trip to Branson, Missouri and specifically the drive up.  You see, my mom had planned this trip for some time -- a chance for us all to be together in one of those vacation houses people often rent with enough rooms for my mom, dad, 3 siblings, brother-in-law, and two nieces.  We would stay here for a few days -- enjoying the local sights, playing games, and of course a trip to Silver Dollar City.  

Summer Series Part 1: My Kind of Beach Trip

My last blog post occurred on May 11, 2021 which in hindsight is quite a bit of time to go without posting a new blog.  Apologies, Readers, but I was working on other writing writing ventures such as notebooking and noveling.  I had a busy summer in other regards as well and as we reach the end of it, I believe it's time to dust off this blog and return to posting on a more regular basis.  

August seemed like the perfect time to return, but it left me with the question: what to blog about?  

The usual Slice of Life challenge seemed like a good place to start and I found that they were in the midst of celebrating their favorite things.  Inspired, I thought perhaps I should use August to begin my own kind of series, a sort of summer wrap up and reflection rolled into one where I could focus on my own favorites from the past few months and catch my readers up on some events in my life.

I decided that my goal moving forward will be to write a blog post once a week and have each of those posts focus on a different moment from this past summer.  Not only will it be a nice way to reflect and capture moments that were important to me, but it will help me get back into the practice of blogging.

So, welcome, to my four (or five) part summer series.  

Of Wasps and Hummingbirds

Now that my patio is spruced up for spring, I have been making an effort to get outside and enjoy it more while the weather is pleasant.  All too soon I know it will get unbearably hot -- likely to the point where being indoors in the air conditioning will outweigh my desire for peaceful patio surroundings. While the view is quite nice, there is one problem with my new writing retreat even without the heat: I cannot stand bugs.  

Specifically I cannot stand wasps.  It's not that I'm allergic or anything, but after getting stung too many times as a kid by vindictive yellow jackets, I'd rather not repeat the experience with their distant cousins.  I know it is unlikely that they will come after me and will likely leave me alone if I leave them alone; however, that is difficult to do when they insist on dropping out of the air to check out my current reading.  It's reached the point where I tense up and jerk away when I hear the tell-tale buzzing.  I just want to be left alone!

However, as I have recently learned from experience, they are not the only creatures to buzz as they move about.

The other day while curled up with a book and my dog, I heard the loudest buzzing to date.  I jerked up in attention, completely on edge, only to spy not a giant wasp, but a curious hummingbird.  Maybe it's been too long since I've been close to a hummingbird.  Usually I only spy them briefly at a distance from my window: there and gone.  However, thanks to my new hummingbird feeder I have noticed a pair of them popping by the past few days.

Sadly, they were just as quick to leave as they were to arrive, but I'm confident they'll find their way back to the feeder.  They're certainly more welcome around here than the wasps.

Update: I have decided to name one of them Aldrin...as in Buzz Aldrin, due to the sound he makes.

 

Weekend Coffee Share | Patio Make Over

Welcome back, friend.  

I'm glad you could stop by and visit.  Did you notice something new?  Well, my parents were by this morning and we were able to spruce up my apartment patio area with flowers, plants, and a new set of windchimes.  Best of all, my mother gifted me a cafe table and chair that she had originally found by the side of the road.  I had mentioned how I wanted to write outside more, but my furnishings at the time were less than ideal for it.  

Cue my mother saying "Oh.  I have a table out back that might work for that."  

And, sure enough, it fits perfectly on the patio and is the right size to hold my laptop, a cup of coffee, and allow me to actually sit up in the chair instead of slouching over my portable lap desk.  

My dad contributed to my patio make over by putting up some mesh wire so that my dog could not slip out between the bars and as of this writing he's currently lounging out here and enjoying the view with us. 

If Ever There was a Door

 

I stopped at the end of the trail.  The contrast between the forest around me and the field beyond me was stark to say the least.  It was like a border.  Perhaps I've read too many fantasy novels, but all I could imagine was that if I stepped over the abandoned rubble with my dog and my friend we would be transported to another realm.  

I wish I could say I was writing this slice on the other side of a grand adventure, but that is not the case.  However, I do not want to disparage the lovely patch of grass my friend, my dog, and I came upon during our walk this past Sunday.  The weather was warm, the skies were a shade of blue that can never be properly captured on film much less written word, and this field was tucked at the end of a small hiking trail near a river-side boat launch.

My friend and I had come prepared to draw and write in our notebooks, but instead we spread our blankets out among a field of vibrant grass and clover.  Perhaps it wasn't the fantastical world of elves and fairies, but it was for a moment a world separate from the weight of responsibility and expectation.  There's magic in that alone. 

And certainly that's the best way I can describe the feeling of stretching out and lying down in a secret field. I don't know if I've sprawled out in the grass like that since I was a child.  The sun shining bright -- so bright, that when you open your eyes again all of the colors are off -- and the sky stretching above me as though reflecting all of the possibilities that exist in this world.  My friend, my dog, and I all took a moment to enjoy this parallel world, but all too soon we had to leave.

I now have a better understanding for those stories where mortals leave this plane and elect to stay in fairy world forever.  

#SOL21 | 27 | Chatting Over Coffee

Welcome to another weekend of sharing a nice warm mug of coffee (or your drink of choice) and some time together thanks to Natalie's link up: Weekend Coffee Share.

This is also the last Saturday of the Slice of Life story challenge (see the information at the bottom of this post).  I can't believe we're in the final stretch.  Last year when I first did the SOLSC I don't think I came anywhere close to blogging all 31 days!  Now here we are at the end and, though I hope I'm not jinxing myself by saying this, this time I may actually manage to share a slice every day this month.

But there are still a few days to go before that happens.  Instead I'd like to tell you about my week as we sit sipping our coffee.  I've really been inspired by how Tammy structures her coffee share posts, so I am going to try and mimic that writing style today.

If we were having coffee, I would lead us outside to my patio with our mugs.  I would mention how I just got a new order of coffee in from Grounds and Hounds that I hope we can both enjoy.  We can hear the birds singing in the trees and a quiet lofi song plays from my laptop.  It's cloudy and cool this morning, but pleasant if you have a warm beverage to enjoy.  It's a little disappointing after the sunshine of most of the week, but at least it's not raining yet.  There are likely to be storms later, but at least we're outside for now.  There's a small window to enjoy temperatures like this in the southern US and I want to take every advantage I can to be outside.  

If we were having coffee, I would point out my nearly empty bird feeder and the new hummingbird feeder I put out.  According to what I've read the hummingbirds should be migrating through my state soon and I want to make sure I catch their attention this year.  I just hope it doesn't draw ants or wasps instead.  The other birds are happily partaking of the bird seed at least and I'll probably need to refill that soon.  Unfortunately, it looks like they may have also attracted a cat to skulk around this morning.  Her belly is low to the ground though and I'm starting to wonder if maybe she is a pregnant cat looking for a safe place to give birth.  I really don't need a cat or her kittens -- my dog Cooper doesn't share attention easily.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you about the adventures I went on with my dog this week.  It was our Spring Break and I forgot how nice it was to just take things slow and go out into nature.  I took Cooper to several parks and gardens.  I tried to get him to ride in a special dog-back pack I bought, but he was pretty stubborn about that and insisted on being on the ground.  I think he enjoyed getting to smell and leave his mark on all the trees and bushes.  While he did that, I would try and leave my mark on the pages of my notebook: sketching the plants and creeks and scenery in either drawing or words.  It was pleasant and did wonders for my anxiety and stress, the opposite of having to brave certain crowded places in a mix of masked and non-masked individuals.

If we were having coffee, I would definitely share those pages of my notebook with you, as well as, some of the pictures I took of my time out and about yesterday with my friend Katie.  We are both vaccinated and felt a little more comfortable eating outdoors at a restaurant in Hot Springs called Diablos Tacos & Mezcal.  We ordered tacos and margarita flights to top off a day of shopping and garden walking.  It was delightful, though I'll admit I probably drank a few two many margaritas.  It was a nice treat for myself though and I don't regret the money spent at all.  

If we were having coffee, I would sigh and say that unfortunately we are going back to school next week and that I'm not sure I'm ready for Spring Break to be over.  It was relaxing and I have not yet prepared lessons for Monday.  It's still break though and I need to focus on that, not the fact that I didn't grade anything over break.  It really is hard to get out of the mindset that I should work during this time -- I shouldn't!  I've also reached another snag in my novel writing because I've reached a part in the story that's new and not just revisions, so it's causing some frustrations for me to write.  I know I just need to push through it, but it's not always easy to find the motivation to even open the document.

If we were having coffee, I would reach over and pet my dog's head for comfort.  He's sleeping soundly, even snoring, likely still exhausted from yesterday's adventures.  I would offer you a smile and invite you to share your celebrations and frustrations as well.  No sense in me doing all of the talking.

I'll sip my coffee and wait for you.  After all, it's not raining yet and the coffee is still warm.

This post is part of the 14th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge.  

                    #SOL21 and information around Slicing can be found on Two Writing Teachers. 

#SOL21 | 26 | Hot Springs

 Approximately 1 hour from where I live is the semi-famous historic town of Hot Springs.  Today my friend, Katie, my dog and I ventured down there to walk along the shops, eat tacos, and check out the gorgeous views of Garvan Woodland Gardens.

My favorite part was sharing my notebook for doodles and drawings — Katie didn’t think to bring her notebook but we made it work:

It reminded me of high school — we came here as a special trip when we were teenagers and high school was also when we used to pass notebooks back and forth.  

It was a good day out and I might write in more detail at a later slice when I am not trying to slice while riding in the car.

This post is part of the 14th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge.  

                    #SOL21 and information around Slicing can be found on Two Writing Teachers.  

#SOL21 | 24 | Cooper's Three Stop Field Trip

Hi!  My name is Cooper and I'm a dog.  I had a busy day today because my mom took me to not one, not two, but THREE different parks.  

I didn't pay attention at first as she prepared food in the kitchen, though I did start to get suspicious when she packed food and a book and a metal box in her backpack.  Usually that's what she does when she is going to work and about to put me in the kennel.  I started following her around, hoping to remind her that she shouldn't leave me!  We were doing so good this week -- I thought we had finally broken the cycle of putting me in the kennel.  It looks like she was backsliding though.  Again.

Luckily, it must have worked.  She slipped on her shoes and put my leash on me and we headed out to the car.  

#SOL21 | 22 | Small Sounds

I love listening to music while I write, but sometimes I forget about the little sounds just outside my window.

Far off in the distance, I can hear the call of the train passing to parts unknown.  But even that is drowned out by the twitter and chatter of birds conversing among the budding foliage.  I feel like I blinked and suddenly there was green among the browns and greys of the copse behind my apartment.  

Occasionally the birds are invited closer by the promise of bird seed -- even now I can hear one picking at the seeds -- or just as easily driven away by sudden movement from either myself or someone walking their dog.  They kick up leaves that have yet to be reclaimed by the wind, or decomposition, or the lawn maintenance the apartment hires.  The last dregs of fall hang around a lot longer than those of winter -- though the chill in the air reminds us that it isn't so far gone.

As the wind gusts through, it catches hold of the small "Hello Spring" flag I have hanging out there and sometimes if the wind is just right I can hear it flap.  Of course, that assumes it isn't drowned out by the windchimes that dangle just above them.  It's a set my mom bought for me when I moved to this apartment: the top part is a bronze sun and below, hitting the chimes, is a grinning crescent moon.  Every time they ring I think of her and my dad, as their backyard is filled with two things: bird feeders and windchimes.  

And then, as if summoned by my thoughts, my mom calls and I answer the ringing phone.

This post is part of the 14th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge.  

                    #SOL21 and information around Slicing can be found on Two Writing Teachers. 

#SOL21 | 01 | Of Chasing Sticks

My phone blew up with a series of messages: Tornado Watch, Thunderstorm Warning, Flash Flood Warning.  I looked up from my spot on the couch to watch it all.

The rain came down, though not it sheets.  Despite the warning this was a more traditional rain, fat globules that splashed in the puddles turning to ponds outside my door.  I got up and paused at my glass sliding doors -- movement catching my eye in the creek that was already full with snow melt from just a week ago (was it only a week ago we were out for snow).  

In the flooding creek was a branch, bobbing up and down as it was pushed onwards by the current.  I watched it, because it reminded me of old cartoons where the protagonist would avoid being seen in the water by using hollowed reeds sticking above the surface.  I lost sight of it briefly and squinted out through the trees to catch a glimpse again.

I can't say for certain why I stopped to watch it or why it amused me.  There was some part of me -- ancient lizard-brain perhaps -- that wanted to go out into the storm and follow it down the creek.  I grinned as I caught sight of it between a gap in the trees.  There was the little branch: bob, bob, bobbing along before vanishing out of sight completely as it was swept off to parts unknown. 

It's departure marked the return of my more rational side.  There was no need to go chasing sticks down in the rain.  By this point the earth itself was half water -- squishy and squelchy underfoot.  I knew because I'd made several attempts to take my dog out to potty and had yet to get much result.  Even he didn't want to go out in this mess. 

I turned away from the window, content to listen to the rain instead.

Emerging from the Blanket

I'm writing this in response to a friend, Tim Gels, who wrote a blog about how nature wins.

A week ago snow fell like a heavy blanket over Arkansas.  We were buried and many of us hunkered down beneath that blanket because we had little choice.  This was not a pristine blanket either, because while we may have not been able to venture far, life still went on.

Just as I filled my notebook with inked words and pictures, I could also see the evidence of life and play across the expanse of snow outside my window.  The small pits made from stomping through the snow.  The splashes of yellow indicating where I had finally convinced my dog to pee outside instead of on my carpet.  The hints of staccato steps dotted near branches and porches -- birds hopping along as they sought the sprinkling of seeds left only for them.  

Now it's in the 70s and the evidence of activity isn't as easy to see with the rapidly disappearing snow.  But as I drove to school today I noticed the signs of winter clinging on all the same.  The patch of snow slipped between the shade of trees.  The silver sheen of ice along a pond where two geese are determined to cross the expanse all the same, even if they can't swim.  The hints of bird song, source unseen.

I remember being so enamored last week when I took a walk through winter woods, but as the snow melts and I turn my attention to spring, I'm reminded that while I may have to look harder into the depths of nature to find evidence of life and play -- it's there all the same.