What happens in a world made by hand and not by electrons? Here is a fieldwalk with some possibilities: impedagogy.com/wp/wp-admin/pos

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.

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@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?

We now, officially, have winter well water. You know that because when you drink it is so cold it hurts your teeth a bit.

Here is a on that subject taken from an August post (goo.gl/845JYn). Is it the water or the word? Your call.

Words so satisfying
I drink them,
Well water words
Running long
and cold
and blue
and deep.
I plunge
my face
into them.
I pull away,
to life,

Blurry self-image in background, text not machine readable. Show more

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. .

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.

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@tellio Remembering writing the song for you to remember ... another box to open .... open with love ... youtube.com/watch?v=SoZN6qb4tz response

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.

Story Arc

Standing at the sink.
(A Swedish mystery writer
in translation.)
Ear buds in.
Doing dishes.
The reader says,
"Timing is all..."
I wonder
as I rinse
the last
a new word
for this feeling:

Here's a refrain, tossed out to the wind, waiting for the chimes, to catch the breeze. Free. Grab it. Use it. Resonate.

Children all about us,
Quiet and alone,
Children all about us,
No need to be alone.

and song refrains

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
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.

Rise Up, Singing!
I woke up to tomorrow
just not the morrow
that's another yesterday.
I wonder,
how I wonder,
who would mind
if it
never came.
But it does
with candles
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.
You, too,
my friend,
we, too.
Tomorrow always,
always comes.


Into Tycho. New single from new album? Here 'tis for a dark and rainy December morning: open.spotify.com/album/1zEv1Jx

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...

Ode for the Dolorous Composition Instructor

What I am responsible for:

my students' debts

anxiety and fear

too much reading and writing

bogus skills


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.


I'm praying.

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.

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