Merely Day By Day

This is the best pelican picture I've managed. If you could see how close they come to where I am sitting, you'd know I have more work to do to capture the perfect picture. While on vacation I've become a bit obsessed with pelicans.  Every evening they fly by our balcony in groups.  I don't really see them coming until they are there in lined formation.  They float by one after another as they follow their regular path down the coast.  Each day I've tried to capture a picture of them as they fly close to our balcony, but I'm never fast enough.  The rest of my family thinks I have gone crazy.  The people on the beach completely ignore them as they fly in formation in search of food.  I can't ignore them as I find them absolutely fascinating.  I've done a bit of research and was surprised to find they were quite endangered from the 1950s through the 1970s.  They appear to be thriving now.  I was also surprised to learn they live to ...

For the next six weeks I am joining the CLMOOC .  MOOCs are massive online learning communities.  This one is offered by the Educator Innovator and powered by individuals from the The National Writing Project .  It focuses on making and creating meaning through six weeks of collaborative make cycles.  There is a focus for each week, a space to link up, and then ways to connect with others who are part of the project.   I'm a little late to the party.  It's been a busy couple of weeks.  Today I'm squeezing in late to for make cycle 1:  "unintroduce" myself .   When thinking about an unintroduction, in only makes sense to think about an introduction:  the pleasantness, the quick judgement, the basic information shared.  For me, I always find the greatest challenge to remember the name which is always given first and then so much information follows.  I decided to unintroduce myself in a poem.   image created with P...

The last two weeks I have been working with the Columbus Area Writing Project at The Ohio State University.  I have been sitting in the same classrooms I sat in years ago as an undergraduate and graduate student.  As I look around I can't help but think about all of the amazing professors I had.  During my days wandering the halls I can't help but wonder who has been here?  What great ideas have been formed in these very spaces?  That thinking inspired this short poem with an image from Ramseyer Hall.   It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by Carol's Corner as Carol Wilcox hosts today's parade of wondrous words.

Today as I sat with our writing group, I noticed a plant sitting on the table - an aloe plant.  That plant triggered a few memories of my grandma's healing magic.   When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time at my grandma's house.  She had a great location between the park and the pool with the ice cream shop just around the corner.  Paradise!  Not only did she have a great location, but she was a lot of fun.  She was hip and cool for a grandma.  She knew what music was hot.  She stayed up past midnight and slept in until late into the morning.  When I stayed at her house, we'd stay up all night playing cards and watching television. While Grandma was hip and cool and fun, she had some crazy ideas about first aid and health treatments.  According to her, Vick's Vapor Rub was the only treatment for colds.  Seven-Up over crushed ice was the only way to settle a stomach (might be true).  When we would fall and scrape a knee or cut an...

you search for yourself in places near and far in crowded buildings in rooms filled with noise you wander untouched paths  long ago overgrown hoping to find whatever it is that must be missing you look into the eyes of others strangers passing by friends who come and go for approval for answers you  chase dreams yet unnamed in unwelcoming directions  hoping to find  the place where you fit to discover who you are you change direction over and over seeking approval of a society that pays sport figures more than doctors paints reality on television in amplified chaos that has lost sight of what's important you with a heart of gold with eyes still fresh to the world need not look in other places for all that you are you don't belong in a world that changes you you just need to look deep inside yourself to discover the bright light already there perfectly as you are  © Cath...

Image via Julie Johnson For most of my life, my writing has been for myself.  It was somehow therapeutic to scratch words with a pen onto a piece of paper.  My writing life has certainly ebbed and flowed --- mostly ebbed  --- across the years, but writing for myself was always enough.  I didn't have to worry about criticism.  Didn't have to worry about saying things in the wrong way.  Didn't have to worry about working and reworking my thoughts.  I just put words on a page, closed the book, and walked away. A long series of events over the last ten years has slowly pushed me toward more public writing.  One factor in changing my course has been community.  Writing communities have pushed me to put more thought into my writing, to work toward creating stronger messages, to try writing in new ways, to be a bit braver when it comes to sharing the words on a page.  Today, for example, this post is part of the collaborative work of the ...

Happy Poetry Friday.  It seems the perfect day to celebrate poetry and portrait together.  Each season, Carol Varsalona , creates a gallery of poetry and images for her readers.  The idea of a virtual gallery is interesting to me.  Carol is always thinking of smart ways to collect, collaborate, and curate digitally.  Thankfully, she is also good at reminders.  Here is my offering for her Spring Symphony gallery.  I can't wait to take a walk through the collection. Today's poem was created using PicCollage and Phonto.  I worked with a few picture art apps, but felt spring was just too beautiful to change the images --- Mother Nature paints glorious pictures.  It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by  Jama's Alphabet Soup  for today's parade of wondrous words.

I'm tired of being cold --- and, yes, I wrote this in June! This morning I am sitting on my couch curled up in the corner seat wrapped in a fleece jacket.  Yes, it's June in Ohio, but I'm cold.  I started on the patio because it was warmer outside than inside, but it started to rain so I had to come back into the house. I'm considering disconnecting the air conditioning.  Do you think my family would notice? When you live in Ohio, you are cold from November until late March.  You learn to live with it.  You build fires in the fireplace, drink hot coffee, and make lots of soup.  During these months, I tire of putting on coats, boots, scarves and mittens.  I tire of sweaters and leggings under my dress pants.  I tire of cold winds and icy conditions.  Cold just becomes a way of life.  My car doesn't like the cold either.  It has a warning light when the temperature gets to 37 degrees fahrenheit.  This always makes me laug...

Today was the first day I could really take a minute to sit back and relax.  It was beautiful here so I headed out to spend the day on my patio.  The wind whistled through the trees as the birds sang songs of summer.  The breeze continually carried white fluffy seeds (I think milkweed seeds) through the sky.  I thought I'd try to write a poem to capture the image. Milkweed Seed the milkweed seed floats in warm air. fluffy puffs, cottony white , gliding,      dancing, sailing,      drifting, gently to the ground. covering the grass in summer snow. Cathy L. Mere, 2015 ...or a haiku It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by Buffy's Blog  for today's parade of wondrous words.