What happens in a world made by hand and not by electrons? Here is a fieldwalk with some possibilities: http://impedagogy.com/wp/wp-admin/post.php?post=6783&action=edit
My wife and I visited our granddaughter at daycare yesterday in the "crawler room". After all the safety rigamarole, we went in to sit with her on the floor. As I sat I lifted my head up to look around. Ten sets of baby eyes stared back at me. I've seen this movie before. "Children of the Corn". They were quiet, impassive, intense. And unnerving. It took five minutes, but one little girl lifted up a plastic donut and handed it to me. Like a stop action begun, every child resumed. #smallstories
@tellio @checkervest measly words, yeah, but immediacy must count for something as I rarely have the same response reading the words of some abstract author on dead trees, but knowing you are there on the other end(s) of this invisible line makes it all the more real.
Say what you want about the social media scourge, (and I'll agree to much of it) but this is something that still inspires me.
A scufflement in the kitchen that only comes from a bird struggling in a cat's mouth! My wife got there first and shook the bird free. I found it in a kitty litter box and scooped it up in hopeful prayer. Yes! Alive. An young adult downy woodpecker. A bird in the house is a very bad omen according to local folk wisdom. A death sign. I took the downy outside and it exploded in a fluster of sound and fury, signifying...something? Nothing? A feathered thing,
a hope? #smallstories
We now, officially, have winter well water. You know that because when you drink it is so cold it hurts your teeth a bit. #smallstories
Words so satisfying
I drink them,
Well water words
I pull away,
Blurry self-image in background, text not machine readable. Show more
I am applying for a Digital Pedagogy Fellowship like I do every year because there is no money in our department to send someone. I am rejected every year. One of my responses in the image below.
#smallpoems "On Annotation"
As a kid, I remember boating with my family in the Ohio River. We were all swimming in life jackets, bobbing up and down, so happy until I noticed that I had drifted away in the stronger currents . I was being sucked into the barge channel. I screamed. My mom's head swiveled toward me. She pulled off her life jacket and swam. She dragged me back to the boat. Such effortless grace, a natural athlete. I think she was born to save my sorry ass. Again and again. I miss that. #smallstories.
I have been reading Matthew Dicks' book "Storyworthy". Reading, enjoying and thinking how apt it is in this point in my life as memory has a tendency to slip. Part of the practice he advocates is called "Homework 4 Life". I have created a google form with two fields: name and memory. The idea is to remember one notable memory of the day or that rose during the day. The image below holds text for Day 4. The act of noting memory is helping to raise more sunken treasure every day. #Smallstories
Everyplace I turned today I felt the pull of my father.December toward the solstice.Long dead car and tractor parked in the weedy treeline.Our barn slipping into desuetude.Getting my very last National Geographic.My last box of Texas citrus.The magazine and fruit subscription every year from him. Done.His hand, his gifts, his presence.He died this past spring, but today he was everywhere, leaning into the future, beckoning, quiet, giving, always giving. I should be grateful. I am. #smallstories
Standing at the sink.
(A Swedish mystery writer
Ear buds in.
The reader says,
"Timing is all..."
as I rinse
a new word
for this feeling:
A Note to a Frightened Child
You are as brave as a mountain and I need to keep hearing your stories.I need it more than air and water and good coffee taken at a clean well-lit kitchen table during an ice storm.Yes, my brave-as-a-mountain child, even more than that.
A Note to a Frightened Child
You are as brave
as a mountain
and I need to keep hearing
I need it more than air and water
and good coffee
a clean well-lit kitchen table
during an ice storm.
Yes, my brave as a mountain child,
even more than that.
Rise Up, Singing!
I woke up to tomorrow
just not the morrow
that's another yesterday.
how I wonder,
who would mind
But it does
in the velvet dark,
a memory, of misery,
and of joy like coins jangling in your pocket,
and of loss like in a Randy Newman
I rise out of the water
and sing out
and sink again
and rise once more
and sing out.
Into Tycho. New single from new album? Here 'tis for a dark and rainy December morning: https://open.spotify.com/album/1zEv1JxvMtDwGZUnfFAfh6
Power off and on all night long with high winds and rain. Blackout conditions out in the boonies like we are. The lights would flicker on and the light/clock on my nightstand would come back on and reset to January 1, 2018. Then it would play "Auld Lang Syne". Then the light would go off again. Then back on and we would time travel to 1/1/2018...again. Must have happened ten times. My private "Groundhog Day". Hey, may auld acquaintence be forgot...#smallstories
Ode for the Dolorous Composition Instructor
What I am responsible for:
my students' debts
anxiety and fear
too much reading and writing
having no faith in myself anymore
and so much more of so much less.
This is what I pray for:
no active shooters
no concealed carry laws
I pray there will actually be retirement.
Moving our sheep fence in the light flurries. Hands so cold. We have never had them on the pastures this late in the year. Our own little climate change example right here in the hollar. #smallstories
Father, husband, shepherd, bird on a wire, concierge. (LAL 1.3)
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