I needed a little pep talk from Shel Silverstein, my Poet Guide for March, to put something out there for the world today. Here’s how the conversation went:
Why Hello Mr. S, How silly should we be? I'm not known for having fun, so please lead the way for me!
I'm going to need a guide One who knows just what to do. Thank goodness, you're the one! The one I choose is YOU!
Now, Shari, don't you worry 'bout a thing! (that's Shel) I've seen you have fun before! The only advice I have is to add a little zing!
A dash of zip! A splash of zap! and you'll be sizzling all day long! Now, listen to me, Gurl. . . . I'm hardly EVER wrong!
So. . . I gave it a little go.
#poetguideconversationpoem
I’m doing the 31 Day March Slice of Life over at Two Writing Teachers along with many other fabulous teacher-writers and others who just wish to challenge themselves to 31 days of writing and sharing with the world. If you’d like to read a few lovely posts from others, head over to today’s entries!
I put off washing dishes until things get out of hand.
“You should fix the dishwasher”, my kids tell me when they come home to visit, but I really don’t mind washing dishes by hand. Until they get out of hand.
It helps if I have some #funterventions for this task. I know – dishwashing COULD be a meditative completely present act. But, when you are scrubbing pans you should have soaked three nights ago, my peace and calm seems to disappear. Distraction works better than being present, in this case anyway.
Usually, it’s important to turn on some dance music so my Spotify Dance Playlist gets its workout. Or, if I’ve got some podcasts in the que, dishwashing is the perfect time to take in some learning.
Or, I pay extra attention to the woods outside the kitchen window and see if I can spot deer hiding amongst the trees – playing I Spy.
But, I have the most fun when I play the Dish Tower Game.
The object of the game is to see how many dishes I can maneuver into the dish drainer and how high I stack them before one falls off. You have to be careful to save the plastic dishes for the toppers. This game has produced a broken dish or two.
You’d be surprised how excited you get when placing those highest dishes at the top and they don’t fall. It’s obvious evidence of your brilliance, if nothing else but your dish stacking sky high towers genius.
I’m thinking about ways to score these towers, to keep track of my best work. Number of dishes? Measure the height? I don’t know – this would probably take the buzz out of the fun if things became to technical and I tossed in rules and regulations.
Maybe someone else can think of possible variations in this dishwashing game, just to mix things up, for when the game loses it’s magic.
Or, perhaps I could just get my husband to fix the dishwasher.
I’m doing the 31 Day March Slice of Life over at Two Writing Teachers along with many other fabulous teacher-writers and others who just wish to challenge themselves to 31 days of writing and sharing with the world. If you’d like to read a few lovely posts from others, head over to today’s entries!
Normally, at the beginning of each month, I have an audition for the poets who meet the minimum requirements that I have established for the upcoming month ahead. I review notebooks from years’ past and look and my calendar to predict themes I might anticipate while navigating the waters of the month ahead, and then I put out an all call listing the job description.
Typically, there are only a few poets that will raise their hands and volunteer their time with me, not knowing where things might go. I’ve written about this process before when Hazel Hall joined me in January of 2022 or when Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer swept me away in the September I turned 57. I share my monthly notebooks filled with Poetry Guide conversations and how I weave their poems into my lives on Instagram, too, if I’m feeling like sharing. Often, I do not – it’s a personal practice and I’ve seen the eye balls of others roll when I explain what I’m spending my time on. It’s all imaginary, of course.
This month, Shel Silverstein was already standing in line for the March Poet Guide position in mid February. He must’ve seen me trudging through February will all of those poems from Kate Baer and knew that we were need to liven things up a bit. Oh, but what I ride Kate and I had! So much fun!
The day Mr. Silverstein showed up was on a day my daughter was describing how challenging it was for her to encourage my grandson to love reading. He’s in second grade and sadly, drowning in decodable books and nonsense word lists being sent home – and being timed daily in both. I asked her to videotape him reading a book and send it to me (because this grandma lives in Minnesota and he lives in Texas), I needed to hear his voice reading.
Let me tell you what he COULD do and then we’ll get to Shel Silverstein.
Even though the paper book was nothing to brag about, he was excited to read for the video. He kept looking at my daughter’s phone to be sure it was capturing his brilliance. He knew every high-frequency word he came to, with automaticity. He knew to pause at punctuation. He was able to read almost every word except for a few I saw him ask his mother about. He knew when he did not know a word. He had strategies for word solving and then looked at his mom for assurance. He had intonation in his voice and put stress on the right words for meaning. I saw him reread and search for understanding when something did not make sense, did not look right or sound right. He did not give up. He read the whole book with commitment.
I told this all to my daughter and then mentioned that what he needs to learn next is phrasing.
Reading word by word was slowing down his rate, which results in low the ORF scores of which seems to be the key assessment tool used in his classroom. My daughter sighed that they told him he needed to read “faster”. (I promised myself not to go off the rails here. It’s doesn’t take a brain surgeon to see what is causing what here.)
Well, who best to call on but Shel Silverstein when your goal is to liven up the reading party AND to model and practice phrasing! Just read of these lines!
And how about these?
I do believe he’ll fall in love with Shel and be begging for more of his books. For now, this grandma sends the books his way and feeds not only him with the song and silliness of language, but me as well.
Shel is magic for us both.
I’m doing the 31 Day March Slice of Life over at Two Writing Teachers along with many other fabulous teacher-writers and others who just wish to challenge themselves to 31 days of writing and sharing with the world. If you’d like to read a few lovely posts from others, head over to today’s entries!
My husband was in the shower this morning when I had to sneak in quick. I took a peek at him in there to see if he was alive because it seemed he’d been in there longer than usual. I watched him just standing there, arms crossed, under the force of the streaming water on the back of his neck.
This seems like a waste of water and time to me. In and out I go.
He likes his water: Lakes. Pools. Showers.
Once he knew I was in the bathroom with him, he said, “Boy! You were OUT last night! Snoring away like Father Keiselbach! Hee hee.”
“At Camp Corbett?” I asked, smiling. (I needed a good sleep. It was good to have it confirmed.)
“Yup!” he replied. I giggled.
“Now there’s a guy who could tell a story around a campfire.” I added.
“Yes. he sure could,” I could feel him nodding his head smiling as well.
My heart warmed at the fondness of this sweet remembering.
“He was such a good man – always a smile on his face, so happy,” I continued.
“Yup, he was one of the good ones,” he replied. We were quiet for a moment.
I completed my bathroom duties careful not to run the hot water and give him a shock of cold and I left him still showering, standing there while the residual memory of a priest from our childhood church hung with me as I filled my coffee cup. My heart felt open, loving, full.
I often think about how often a fleeting “remembering moment” will occur between my husband and I. They leave me with a dose of gratitude, not just for having known the person at the heart of the experience or the experience itself, but in the shared memory by both of us, having been together all of our years. We do not plan these quick trips down memory lane, they happen spontaneously – in the bathroom, while watching TV, driving in the car.
Maybe it might be a good idea to be more intentional about bringing up memories, we could call it “Remembering Time”.
Purpose: For the shared medicine that reminds us of a life well-lived. And that we’ve each got each other to help remind us of that should we forget.
I’m doing the 31 Day March Slice of Life over at Two Writing Teachers along with many other fabulous teacher-writers and others who just wish to challenge themselves to 31 days of writing and sharing with the world. If you’d like to read a few lovely posts from others, head over to today’s entries!
These are the ritualized documentations of my early morning notebook entries. Let me tell you about them:
Dates and time – important. . . It shows evidence that I showed up that day, evidence of keeping the appointment with notebook – with my “self”. And that I was alive on this date in time.
Weather? Why would I document this? Because it is a factor in my well-being trends over time. Many gray days correlate with my emotional well-being. This awareness means that sometimes necessary radical interventions may be necessary to sustain my physical, emotional and mental well-being. When the sun comes out – there is an uptick in happiness, productivity and number of steps I’m able to produce. On those gray days, I increase Vitamin D, connections to people I love or am sure to take more steps.
Moon? Yes – this, too. There always seems to be a slump season when the moon has whittled away to nothing, and a bit of a frenzy when the full moon bursts in its brilliance. Do you not notice this? Pseudo science or not – it does not matter to me – my notebook does not lie.
Location – Where am I writing from? The location? There are many places to write from – my comfy writing chair by the fireplace, my sanctuary up above the garage, the front porch. Each writing location impacts the content that seeps into my notebook. I’ve experimented with these over time. The conclusion? It matters. Some places are perfect conditions for flow – others, nothing but fluffery.
The National Days Calendar alerts me to the celebrations of the day. While many days seem to drone on, this calendar alerts me to the realization that there is much to celebrate. Picking something that resonates and attending to that seems to bring a bit of happiness and diversion from the minutiae of the day. And, my husband loves a “Chocolate chip Cookie Day” or “National Card Playing Day”.
Word of the Day – Oh, how I love words. If there is any attempt to learn words that have not found their way into my speaking and writing vocabulary, I will seek them out. These words sneak their way into my entries, if not even becoming the focal point of the day. As my husband irons his pants for work, I often shout the WOTD to him as he irons away. We conversate about these words and I can feel our smartness growing – iron sharpens iron.
Weight – some days I weigh myself if I am feeling hopeful, other days it’s NOYB (None of Your Business and my body cries to pick another day). A weigh in keeps me honest and forces me to attend to when things get carried away.
WBR – This is my overall Well Being Rating on a scale of 1-10. Ultimately, my notebook is a tool for monitoring who I am, how I am and what factors contribute to living a life well lived. If my WBR is scores below 5, there are serious considerations of which need to be addressed. If I’m score is high, my documentations specify the contributions to this high score in an effort to replicate it when I forget where I am in my days. This rating score is a composite score of my self-scan of my physical, emotional, mental and spiritual well-being (a self-scan).
NYT Connection Puzzle – while I do not always document this in my daily notebook entries, sometimes it finds a way there. When I top off my coffee cup, the phone comes with me and I attempt the NYT Daily Connections Puzzle – because its good for the brain, you know. Sometimes, I document my brilliance and other days, I am sure to record the ridiculousness of the categories – like how just a few days ago one category was animals spelled backwards – REALLY? Who’s going to figure that out? But, I add it to my categories of patterns: Words Spelled Backwards. My husband assures me that these puzzles push me out of my box when I complain.
There is a word for people that feel the need to document the existence of their time on earth, or “the need to write”. Some call it “hypergraphia”.
I consider it simply: RESEARCH.
We are students of ourselves. If we are meant to live on this earth to the fullest of our potentials, should we not be attentive to the factors that contribute to those potentials? Some humans can carry onward by simply waking up, having coffee, ironing their clothes and commuting to work just willy-nillying through through their days. For some reason, I’ve conditioned myself to pay attention to the smallish details that may or may not make or break a day.
There are things I often fail to mention in my notebook – the number of quality sleep hours I’ve had, which usually I end up writing about in my entry if it rates on the high or low end. The state of well-being of my plants that I water in my kitchen window, the flavor of my morning coffee, the mood of my husband, how busy the schedule of my day looks. Each of these find it’s way into the daily entry depending on its need to be heard. Or maybe I’ll document the foods I’ve eaten the day before, or the day of, if I’m writing at the end of the day – of which I am not. Sometimes vitamins, supplements or number of steps I’ve accomplished get recorded, too. So much influences how the day will unfold.
All of it is worthy content for the notebook of our living . . .
in our experiment of living here on Planet Earth School.
I’m doing the 31 Day March Slice of Life over at Two Writing Teachers along with many other fabulous teacher-writers and others who just wish to challenge themselves to 31 days of writing and sharing with the world. If you’d like to read a few lovely posts from others, head over to today’s entries!
My children grown and grandchildren far away. A husband giddy and entertained with his outdoorsman hobbies. Days and days of “meh” as background white noise pestered me as I attempted to distract it with the things I distract myself with.
My husband urged me to DO more “fun” in my life. I told him I DO have fun! – scribing and playing in my notebooks, reading and writing poems. “That’s my idea of fun!” I’d argue.
He’d roll his eyes and head off to the woods with our lab, or up to the lake to fish with buddies or out to the golf course with his father and brothers or sons.
I filled my notebook with pages of “My Ideas of Fun”, yet afterwards, still, something was missing. Often, the words that came out of my pen wrote, “…but what if I’m wrong and he’s right?” (I despised when this would happen.)
It felt necessary to investigate this definition and essence of what “FUN” is (because, research is on My Ideas of Fun List) , and magically, a book found its way to my front porch, via the UPS truck. It was titled, The Power of Fun, by Cathrine Price. (receiving a new book is also on My Ideas of Fun List).
Here’s what she writes in the FIRST chapter:
“We spend too much time on FAKE FUN. These are activities and possessions marketed to us as fun. . . but they are numbing and leave us empty when we’re done. TRUE FUN, on the other hand makes us feel nourished and refreshed (p. 17)”.
The FAKE FUN she was talking about was Netflix binging, Insta-reels and buying stuff (did I really need more books?). Apparently, TRUE FUN has an energy that is produced by the …
“Confluence of playfulness, connection and flow”. Let me draw the image for you.
I’m not gonna lie, I argued with Miss Price when she said, “Most fun moments do not occur when you are alone (p. 33).”
But, I’m trying to bite my tongue, and set aside my introverted-hermit-wanna-be-right self and give this a go, committing to 2024 as the Year of the FUN-TERVENTION.
I’m writing this month with other writers in the March Slice of Life Challenge. To see what others are writing about, head over to Two Writing Teachers and check out some lovely blogs and writing inspiration from other writers.
I did not intend to participate with too much upon my plate and years of starting, by day 3, I'd see my words deflate.
Pages fill inside my notebooks, to lift them out, I aggravate. But what good are words that hibernate and procrastinate their fate?
An inner nudge to take a peek to see who might be there. They lure me in with niggling bait. happy entries not to spare.
My writing friends, they do not care or berate a missing date! They wave and hug and celebrate all who join and congregate!
I could not remain in this side-eyed state on this side of the gate. No more the need to contemplate or force my pen to hesitate!
The notebook words leapt with delight set free to jubilate, Were here for fun, squeeze in some play and hope to conversate!
I must leave now to deviate From this poor attempt at silly rhyme to type these words and send this off Before I'm much too LATE! 🙂
#imperfectpoembyshari
I can’t believe it’s already March AND that I almost declined from writing with all of my writing friends! To see what others are writing about or join in the challenge, head over to Two Writing Teachers and check out some more blogs and writing inspiration.
Perhaps I was not cut out for the Slice of Life Challenge this year. On Day 1, I wrote a poem and on Day 30, a response poem to the responses to the poem. It is quite perplexing.
It’s not that I needed 29 days to think of something else to write. There are actually 24 new poems in my notebook and roughly 200 filled pages with the scribing of my ink this month. My notebook is bursting at the seams. In fact, I may run out of pages before tomorrow is done. I’m trying not to brag, but my pen has this down.
But, much of the time, the words do not have the desire to creep out of the safekeeping of the notebook. I try to lure them out, but they are shy. Tired. Cozy and safe nestled between the covers of March 2023. Oh dread, I hear the voice of Eeyore. And, Piglet assuring me we did the best we could. And, that I still wrote.
And, such I time I had! So much play happened in the notebook this month! I cannot wait to tell you!
But, not until April – when the month of poetry begins.
That’s when the poems all wake up and fight for their time in the spotlight.
Hmmmm. . . I maybe just started at the wrong month. 🙂
A first Slice of Life came out as an apology. Unknowing what to begin with, a poem wriggled out. If you haven’t the time or the energy or the wherewithal to figure out your way through my typewriter malfunctions (misspellings are my own), I’ve edited it below, with a few revisions, for your convenience and efficiencies.
Dear Reader
I apologize up front
as you make a split second decision
to click on the link
that brought you to these words.
I know your day is busy
fraught with to-do lists and wanna/should-do's, too
your precious time is just that -
precious.
But, I just need to let you know
there is no glitter or gold here
no words of wisdom either
or tips or tricks, hacks or shortcuts
on how to do whatever it is
you ought to do today.
All I have to offer are
random words from this old machine,
she skips every now and then
and is missing the apostrophe key
But, oh she is quite adept
at knowing spasms of delight,
admirations and whispers of bliss
or a split second moment of awe.
So, it is with great regret
and sincere apologies
bad spelling and fading ink
that you had to
slow
down
to read
these painstaking words on this page
but, they are all I have to give.
#a not so good poem by shari daniels 2023
I am participating in the twowritingteachers 31-day Slice of Life challenge this month. If you’d like to read the words of other Slicers, please head over to the Slices of the Day at twowritingteachers (you gotta scroll way down). 🙂
Islands of My Soul 