Slice of Life: “Breakfast of the Birds”

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Earlier this week, Tricia Stohr-Hunt posted this painting, by Gabriele Münter, on her blog, The Miss Rumphius Effect:

Gabriele Münter, Breakfast of the Birds, 1934; © 2012 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn - See more at: http://nmwa.org/works/breakfast-birds#sthash.eKbv2uZn.dpuf
Gabriele Münter, Breakfast of the Birds, 1934; © 2012 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn – See more at: http://nmwa.org/works/breakfast-birds#sthash.eKbv2uZn.dpuf

Tricia invited her readers to write an ekphrastic poem to go along with this painting. I was intrigued by the contrast between the birds socializing outside and the woman sitting down by herself inside. Here is my response:

This morning our old
chestnut tree,
the one you planted
all those years ago,
is wrapped in a cloak
of fine white snow.

Goldfinches and robins,
like confetti scattered in
celebration of the coming spring,
brighten its branches
as they serenade me:
“cheer-up, cheer-up, cheer-up.”

How do they know
that some days are worse than others,
and that this morning,
I miss you more than ever?

© Catherine Flynn, 2016

Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts. Also, be sure to visit Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

Slice of Life: Time to Read

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“The greatest part of a writer’s time is spent in reading, in order to write;
a man will turn over half a library to make one book.”
~ Samuel Johnson ~

I thought of this quote when I read “Unbalanced Literacy: Reflections on the Common Core” by Thomas Newkirk in the March issue of Language Arts yesterday. If you have access to this journal, I highly recommend reading this piece. Newkirk includes this quote from Michel de Montaigne, which I love:

“Bees ransack flowers here and flowers there: but then they make their own honey, which is entirely theirs and no longer thyme or marjoram. Similarly the boy will transform his borrowings; he will confound their forms so that the end-product is entirely his.”

Newkirk included this quote to support his view of reading as a “transaction between reader and text,” but it applies to writing also.

Halfway through this month-long challenge, I feel desperate for time to just sit and read, for time to “ransack” a book, to borrow words and transform them into something entirely mine. My morning waiting for the furnace repairman yesterday made me crave this even more. When you have a taste of something delicious, you want more! (Furnace is working again, by the way.) The slices I’ve been reading are amazing and full of inspiration, but I miss having time to read a book. What to do? Write a quick slice about what I’m reading, then go read.

I usually have three or four books going at the same time. Here’s what’s on my nightstand today:

Silver People: Voices from the Panama Canal, by Margarita Engle (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014)

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Echo, Echo: Reverso Poems about Greek Myths, by Marilyn Singer (Dial Books for Young Readers, 2016)

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The Poetry Home Repair Manual: Practical Advice for Beginning Poets, by Ted Kooser (University of Nebraska Press, 2007)

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What book(s) is/are on your nightstand? Happy ransacking (reading), everyone!

Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.

Slice of Life: A Found Poem

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I was really stuck for an idea of what to write about today, so I visited the “Writing Prompts” page on the Poets & Writers website. There are prompts for creative nonfiction, fiction, and poetry. This poetry prompt appealed to me:

Begin at the End 
posted 2.23.16

“If you’re having trouble starting a poem, begin at the end. Take a single collection of poems and make a list of the last two words from each poem. Then write your own poem using only these words. Be vigilant at first utilizing just the vocabulary from the list. After a couple of drafts, stray from the limited words to help bring the poem to its full realization.”

Inspired by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s challenge to write a poem about small object, I’ve been rereading and studying Valerie Worth’s All the Small Poems and Fourteen More, so I turned to the first set of small poems for my list of words. Here they are:

among friends
she stops
like zinnias
to rest
and purr
worth something
and stay
is managed
set stone
brown grasshopper
of mice
loose skin
to us
slithering gold
poor clock
to keep
passing here
is cooked
of gold
find it
the beehive
for sleep
fences forever
whispers alone

Here is my first draft. The words and letters in bold were not on the original list.

She stops
among friends,
like zinnias
of gold,
fences set in stone,
and brown grasshoppers,
to sleep
and purr
and dream
of cooked mice…

To us, it is
worth something
not to be managed
by the clock;
to keep
passing here alone
and,
hearing whispers,
find it,
the beehive,
slithering gold,
and stay
for rest.

This was a fun exercise, despite the fact I have three unused words: poor, loose, and skin. Maybe I can work those into my next draft. The second stanza makes me happy because it reminds me of “The Lake Isle of Inisfree,” by William Butler Yeats, one of my all-time favorite poems.

I’d like to try this with students. It would be a great way to build vocabulary and would also help reinforce grammar skills like subject-verb agreement, tense, and more. Maybe I’ll save it for National Poetry Month.

 Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.

Slice of Life: A Poem for Pi Day

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This pie bird is another small object from my kitchen. (I wrote more about these objects here.) He’s been baked into more apple pies than I could ever count. He seemed like a worthy subject of a poem this Pi day.

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The Pie Bird

No squawks or caws
from this blackbird,
nestled in a puddle
of fruit and spice.
But the swirls of steam
escaping the “o”
of his yellow mouth
send out the signal
loud and clear:

Pie is ready!
Deliciousness awaits!

© Catherine Flynn, 2016

 Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.

A Poetry Friday Slice of Life

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There are collections of one sort or another in every room in my house. The tops of the kitchen cabinets are filled with antique and vintage crocks and kitchen wares. Baskets filled with seashells are everywhere. Bottles, books, McCoy pottery line bookcases and shelves. Is there a word for serial collectors?

Some of these items are quite small, and as I dusted a shelf in my kitchen yesterday, I started thinking about Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s challenge to readers of Michelle Heidenrich Barnes’s blog, Today’s Little Ditty, to “write a poem about something small, an animal or object you see every day and do not usually give much thought.”

I’ve been working on a poem for this challenge for most of the week and had hoped to share it today but it’s not ready. However, the objects on this shelf made me wonder if I’d chosen the right subject for my poem. Then I realized that it didn’t matter. I could write more than one poem if I wanted to. I certainly have enough small objects to write about!

Here’s a draft inspired by a ceramic figurine that sits on a shelf in my kitchen.

“Pig”

A ceramic pig
sits in a shiny
green wash tub,
his ears and nose
the pale pink
of a winter sunrise.

Like Wilbur
as he licked
the buttermilk
trickling
into his mouth,
a blissful smile
spreads across his face.

© Catherine Flynn, 2016

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Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts. And don’t forget to stop by Irene Latham’s lovely blog, Live Your Poem, for the Poetry Friday Roundup.

Slice of Life: Patience

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“I don’t want to,” she said.

A familiar petulant look, downcast eyes and protruding lower lip, came over her face. She began pulling her hair over her forehead, trying to hide.

I sighed, trying to retain my patience. I’ve been working with this student since the fall when she was diagnosed with dyslexia. In an effort to expedite her progress, she has two intervention sessions on most days. She sees the special education teacher every day and I see her at least three times a week to practice and reinforce what she is learning in special ed. She reads poems and books on topics that interest her. She’s written poems and short paragraphs about  ballet, her passion. She’s been making nice progress.

Yesterday she was working on an acrostic poem for the word “ballet.” She didn’t have any trouble coming up with single words for each letter. But then I reminded her that poets use descriptive words to express their feelings and create images. “Let’s think of ways to describe the barre,” I suggested.

“I like it the way it is.”

I counted to ten. I knew I wouldn’t accomplish anything by engaging in a power struggle with this student, but one of our objectives is to help her learn to be more open-minded and persistent.

I tried one more time. “Let’s look at a poem in your folder and see how Irene Latham describes the “Farm Fresh Eggs.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes. That was my cue that we were finished. As I walked her back to her classroom, I was calm and said we’d take another look at the poem tomorrow. She shrugged, but said goodbye as she went back to her class.

She isn’t this uncooperative too often, but it has happened often enough to know that we might not achieve the goals we set for her at her PPT in October. Her parents and their advocate were insistent that we say what reading level she would achieve by her annual review next fall. We tried to explain that our goal was to have her catch up to grade level expectations as quickly as possible, but there were too many variables to make any kind of prediction about how long it would take to get her there. They were skeptical, but gave us the benefit of the doubt.

As a parent, I understand their worry and desire to have her performing at grade level sooner rather than later. But I also understand that pushing her too hard won’t help her reach this goal. It could undermine our efforts. Everyone is doing everything they can to support this student, providing her with appropriate instruction, modifications, and accommodations. We should be celebrating her every accomplishment, no matter how insignificant it may seem. She will get there in the end. It may just take a little longer for her. Things take the time they take.

Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.

Slice of Life: In the Beginning…

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I have started this slice three times throughout the day. After my first two failed attempts, I asked myself what exactly I was hoping to accomplish by participating in this challenge. It’s more than writing every day because I already do that, but I know I have lots of room to grow as a writer. So is there something specific I want to work on?

As I reread my last few posts, I noticed that I begin my slices in very predictable ways. I either dive right in with “I…” or by telling when something happened: “Yesterday…” or “Last week…” You get the idea.

I thought about one of the most famous opening lines in children’s literature: “‘Where’s Papa going with that ax?’ said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.” We are immediately pulled into the story and are just as curious as Fern about that ax. E.B White deftly weaves in other important details of time and setting into this sentence, and we do notice them. But it’s that ax that has our attention.

Glancing through a random issue of the New Yorker, I noticed many articles began by establishing the time or the setting. This opening line, though, from “Forced Out” by Matthew Desmond, got my attention: “Arleen Beale’s latest eviction began with a snowball fight.” Aren’t you curious? You can read about it here

In The Revision Toolbox: Teaching Techniques that Work (2nd edition, Heinemann, 2014), Georgia Heard writes that “The lead or introduction to a piece of writing is the ‘front door.’ You want your guests or readers to feel compelled to stay and linger.” Ted Kooser tells readers of The Poetry Home Repair Manual (University of Nebraska Press, 2005) that “the titles and the first few lines of your poem represent the hand you extend in friendship toward your reader.” I love this idea. Both Heard and Kooser go on to share specific techniques for compelling, friendly openings.

Over the next few days I’ll be playing with different types of openings, hoping to invite you into a piece of writing that you’ll want to linger over. But it’s unlikely that they will have anything to do with an ax.

Brondum's Annex by Anna Ancher
Brondum’s Annex by Anna Ancher

Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.

Slice of Life: Currently

11454297503_e27946e4ff_hCURRENTLY, I’m…

LISTENING to keyboard sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti, performed by Mikhail Pletnev. I can’t write or do school work while listening to music with lyrics because I’ll start singing along!

WONDERING if I have everything I need for a PD session with K-2 teachers this afternoon.

THINKING about a couple of ideas I have for poems.

FEELING relieved that my son Michael is getting settled in his new apartment.

TEXTING with my son Brian and his wife about their new puppy, Louie.

READING Silver People: Voices from the Panama Canal, by Margarita Engle. The Firefly Letters is the only book I’ve read by Engle. I think I’ll have to do something about that this year. What an amazing writer!

REFLECTING on how to best help two of our neediest students, both of whom are making very slow progress.

DRINKING a cup of tea, Bigelow Lemon Lift.

WATCHING nothing. We never turn the TV on in the morning.

WISHING I had gotten more housework done over the weekend. We’re having company this weekend, and I’m not sure how I’m going to get everything done before they arrive on Friday.

WORKING ON getting our taxes together.

KNITTING a hat for a baby shower I’m going to in a few weeks.

Louie is only 11 weeks old. Look at the size of those paws!
Louie is only 11 weeks old. Look at the size of those paws!

Thank you to Elisabeth Ellington of The Dirigible Plum for the “Currently” format of this slice, and thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.

Slice of Life: 1997

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It seems early in the game to be stuck for an idea of what to write about, and I’m not really stuck. I have a couple of topics I want to write about. Just not tonight. I remembered reading a “Currently” post earlier today and thought that would be an easy option. There was just one problem. I couldn’t find the post. Okay, I’ll just google “currently blog post.” Of course I didn’t find what I was looking for. I found something better.

WordPress has a .pdf document called 365 Days of Writing PromptsI scrolled to the prompt for March 7th, but didn’t love it. So I went back into February and found this:

Buffalo nickel

Dig through your couch cushions, your purse, or the floor of your car and look at the year printed on
the first coin you find. What were you doing that year?

This appealed to me. I grabbed by wallet and pulled out a penny. 1997. What was I doing in 1997?

I was teaching third grade. If I remember correctly, I had a pretty challenging class that year, and I was taking classes for my master’s degree. Brian turned 16 in November and was chomping at the bit to get his driver’s license. Michael was 13 and our days were filled with soccer practice, swim meets and kayaking on the weekend. Life was a blur.

But what truly stands out for me about 1997 is that my dear Aunt Polly lost her battle with cervical cancer that October. Aunt Polly was only 9 years older than me and I idolized her like an older sister. When I spent the night at my grandparents house, I slept in the twin bed across from hers in her room under the eaves. I loved being there with her.

She loved the Beatles and had turned a room above the garage into her Beatle shrine. Posters and clippings from magazines covered the walls, and she taught me to do the twist in that room.

All too soon, Aunt Polly was a busy teenager with no time for her little niece. Then she went off to college and I didn’t see her for months at a time. But as we both got older, we grew closer again. She was an accomplished photographer and took all the pictures at my wedding as her gift to me and my husband. Sadly, because she was so busy behind the camera, I don’t have any photos of us together that day.

It’s unbelievable to me that almost nineteen years have passed since I said goodbye to Aunt Polly. I think of her often and wish she could have grown old with her husband and their dogs, been at my sister’s wedding, and seen my boys grow up into men. She was one of the most loving, caring people I have ever known, and I’m lucky she was part of my life. Thank you, Aunt Polly, for everything.

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  Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.

Slice of Life: Forgotten Treasures

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When my grandmother went to live in a nursing home, we were faced with the daunting task of emptying the house she’d lived in for over sixty years. Our work was rewarded, though, with countless forgotten treasures, including this:

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The back of this box is stamped with the logo to the Kibbe Bros. Co., Springfield, Mass. and is inscribed to my grandmother, from Pat J. Lillis, Christmas, 1919. I wasn’t surprised to find an old candy box among my grandmother’s things. She saved everything. But I wasn’t prepared for the treasure that lay inside the box. Inside were hundreds of paper dolls and women modeling dress patterns cut from magazines. Because they’d been hidden away from both my mother and her sister and my cousins and me, they were in perfect condition. 

My grandmother wrote "Loretta Lane, age 14" on the back of this doll.
My grandmother wrote “Loretta Lane, age 14” on the back of this doll.

Everything was cut precisely, including characters from nursery rhymes and Alice in Wonderland. There was even small brown envelope filled with just hats. Most of the dolls, which included girls, women, and boys, were given names and ages and are all part of a large family.

All that remains of "The Three Bears"
All that remains of “The Three Bears.” Don’t you love the look on the bear’s face?

When we asked my grandmother about them, she said she and her younger sister had cut them out and played with them for hours. This is how I imagine them:

Dust motes dance in light
streaming through windows
so old the glass
ripples and flows.

Bathed in this golden sunshine,
a nook beneath the stairs
becomes a refuge from collecting eggs,
fetching cows from the far pasture.

Two heads lean together,
brown hair woven into tight braids,
bowed in concentration,
imaginations running wild.

Four hands snip and cut,
a family of paper dolls grows.
Names bestowed,
adventures dreamed,
lives created out of thin air.

© Catherine Flynn, 2016

 Thank you to StaceyTaraDanaBetsyAnnaBeth, Kathleen, and Deb for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday throughout the year and every day during the month of March. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.