Falling Action

News today that Prince Philip has died. I just saw him last night on The Crown, forcing his son, Prince Charles, to marry a woman he didn't love. Well, we all know how that story ended. 

The same can be said about most of the intriguing dramas that television show presents: it's all a matter of history, and many of the main players are gone. In addition to Princess Di and Lord Mountbatten, Princess Margaret, the Queen Mum, Margaret Thatcher and her husband Dennis, and a whole host of minor characters have all gone to their reward in real life. I suppose the fact that the Queen and Phillip have lived until now, both in their 90s, she having reigned for nearly 70 years, made the narrative a bit more compelling, and certainly more remarkable. 

And although it's not surprising for a man of 99 to pass away, one does feel a little sadness about knowing how that particular story ends.

Good and Tired

In the before times, we always left Lucy some treats and puppy puzzles to keep her busy until the dog walker came when we went to work in the morning. A tired dog is a good dog, was our motto. In the year we spent at home, neither treats nor dog walker were strictly necessary; Lucy had all the company and exercise she needed. (Sometimes, even, too much-- we walked a lot in those early shutdown days.)

Now that we've returned to our schedule, the puzzles have reappeared, but they may not be quite as necessary as they once were. When we rise from our beds before the sun, Lucy stays asleep until one or the other of us calls her for first out or breakfast. And though she seems to appreciate the treats when we leave? More evenings than not, when we return home, she bounds over to them and starts to snuffle and chew, because she hasn't touched them during the day.

Our dog walker, too, confirms what all the signs point to. When we leave? Lucy goes back to bed and snoozes for much of the day. When the door opens for her walk, she staggers bleary-eyed down the stairs to greet the day anew.

Well.

Evidently the inverse of our precept is true: A good dog is a tired dog. At least ours is.

Coulda Woulda Maple Suga

Maple Syrup Making Also Boomed as a Pandemic Hobby the headline read. The article detailed how all the sugaring equipment has been bought-up and back-ordered. When the tree sap begins to flow, it's an official sign that spring has arrived, the governor of New Hampshire is said to have noted.

Immediately, I visualized myself with a mallet and and pocketful of spiles, tapping maples all over the neighborhood, filling my tin buckets, and setting up a turkey fryer to boil the sap down. Even a cup of amber syrup would be grade A to me, but

Dang it! 

My working from home ended a couple of months too soon.

The Work Cut Out for Me

I was unprepared.

What is poetry to you? I asked.

Just more writing.

Specific words that rhyme and are too fancy to understand

Poetry bores me.

Usually it is something confusing with some meaning people want us to decode though the lamp was white for normal reasons.

I don't have feelings for poetry.

I like poetry but not when it's in school.

I see poetry as another writing-ish unit.

 They said.

I'm so surprised! I told them. Do you like music? Songs?

Oh yes! They certainly did.

You know that's poetry, right? Words, rhythm, repetition, rhyme, feelings?

They were skeptical. So much so, that one of them wrote her haiku about it:

Though it may be true--

I will never admit it.

Songs are poems?

Just yesterday I was celebrating the arrival of National Poetry Month, but now? I see it could be a long month!

Fire to Light Our Tongues

April is National Poetry Month, and for me it's a bit like the flip side of October-- instead of chill air and ghost stories, every where I look is new life and, well, poetry. I spent the morning yesterday reading Naomi Shihab Nye, Marie Howe, and Dorianne Laux. The words just found their way onto my phone screen, so what could I do?

Tomorrow, I am introducing the April portion of the 100 Day Writing Challenge to my students, and can it be a surprise that our challenge is to write a different poem every day? A task that is daunting, but definitely doable, for any who are willing. Each day, a new form is introduced, along with models and some suggested tools. And, as Mary Oliver reminds us, "You do not have to be good." 

Nope, you just have to be willing.

With all that in mind, I sat down this evening to craft a set of instructions to help these young writers get their arms around the project. My directions started out quite matter-of-factly, but as I typed, the words seemed to veer off on their own. It is a poetry unit, after all; perhaps that's to be expected.

Here is the "Fine print" as I presented it to my class:

• During the school week, challenges will be posted every 2 Days, and locked at midnight on the second day. 

• Each assignment is either labeled "Required" or "Recommended" 

• You will have some time in class to complete the required poems. 

• Writers are encouraged to try as many poems as possible. 

• There will be a test at the end of the unit. 

• This challenge is both easier and harder than it looks. 

• You will surprise yourself and love at least one of the poems you write. 

• I believe in the poet in you.

See what I mean? 

Bring it Spring!

The sun was shining, the air was soft and warm, and it was a perfect day to tidy up our outdoor spaces. As we swept and stacked and rinsed and hung and planted all I could think was...

70 degrees is so much better than 40.

A Good Reminder

One of the unexpected delights of last year's growing season was the pot of lemon grass we had out on our deck. I purchased the plant on a whim when I was filling my cart with herbs and flowers for the hanging baskets. It turns out that fresh lemon grass is nothing like the woody stalks that are sold in Asian markets. I found i could clip the ends of the tender, flat blades and use their fragrance and flavor to punch up all sorts of summer salads and marinades. 

Perhaps my favorite use was a version of the Thai classic larb, made with local organic ground turkey. The lemon grass along with a generous sprinkle of fresh basil, mint, and cilantro really made the dish sing, and summer tomatoes and cucumbers completed the feast. 

Before last year, I never remember even seeing lemon grass plants for sale, and so when I spotted it in a garden catalog in January, that seed packet went straight into my basket. And it turns out, that lemon grass is actually pretty easy to grow. I have seven sturdy little plants that are already four inches tall, just waiting for the threat of frost to lift, so that they can leave the grow light and start reaching for the sun and the sky. 

They know that summer's coming, and they help me remember that, too.