Merely Day By Day

The internet has made me a collector of quotes.  It seemed a waste for quotes to just sit on my Pinterest board.  I thought perhaps I'd start sharing a few on Wednesdays.   Inspiration, quote, and image via  http://www.dayjobsanddreams.com/blog/monday-mantra-pt-23

The internet has made me a collector of quotes.  It seemed a waste for quotes to just sit on my Pinterest board.  I thought perhaps I'd start sharing a few on Wednesdays.  

In February we will be ready for it to end. We will tire of the bitter cold, the slippery streets, the colorless days. Tonight, however, we marvel at glistening white. The first snows dress the world in glittering gowns of white. Billowy flakes float delicately in a dance to the earth. Snow cloaks branches, blanketing endless brown; brightening earth's masterpiece. In a few months, we will wish for green, yellow, and pink. But tonight as the full moon illuminates the splendor. Tonight, we marvel in the majestic silence of a first white night. © Cathy L. Mere, 2016

this space has been quiet  for some time. waiting. for words to return. for time to slow. there are the usual excuses. of days lost. of great demands. of busy days,  tired nights. in truth, time spent  in ways unproductive. a friend reminds, with the understanding  of another  who has fought  the same fight, wrestled  the same demon, "You need to get back to the page."  another inquires, "What are you writing?" interest genuine. my silence speaks. she knows  the struggle. this knowing rests between us. their words spin in my mind. for days. weeks. my fingers grow restless. tired of stillness. still i wait for time to slow for words to return. of course this doesn't happen until in the quiet i return to this space. to try yet again.    © Cathy L. Mere, 2016  It's Tuesday.  Today I'm joining the Slice of Life Challenge ho...

It's poetry Friday!  Today's poem was literally found.  During our last day with the Columbus Area Writing Project we were asked to take a piece of writing from our time together and use it to find a poem.  We were asked to carve it down to its most essential words.  I found this poem hiding in a blog post I wrote titled:   Why Digital Writing .    Lifting Voices  quiet. wandering. surveying collections: childhood reports, paper books made by tiny fingers, journals filled with wondrous words, handwritten poems. words surround. gifts tucked safely away, in closets and drawers. stories should reach; connect to communities. writing for something - for someone. finding space. reaching out. letting words spill. writing lifts silenced voices. © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by The Opposite of Indifference where Tabatha Yeatts hosts today's parade of wondrous words.

"We certainly bring the average age up in this room," I comment to my friend, Julie, chuckling as we enter the classroom.  It's the first day of our summer teacher leadership class at OSU.  We thought it might be fun to take a few classes.  We're kind of crazy like that.  Everyone in this class appears young and quite driven.  It's going to keep me on my toes I think as I assess the situation and look for a place to sit down. She laughs as we find seats in the crowded room.  I put down my bags which have grown quite heavy with my computer, books, and other items needed for a full day on campus.  Opening my computer I realize I cannot get into the campus secure Wifi or my OSU account.  "What was that password?" I wonder aloud as I check my phone to see if I was smart enough to put it in my notes.  It's not there.  I try password after password with no success. I lean over to see how Julie is doing getting logged in while I find...

They carried your stories away today damaged and broken: the violin that played the music, of your childhood the books that rested in your hands, the Old Maid we slid around the table, the piece we made  standing side by side in your workshop as I listened to your words weave your lessons into my life. I held each in my hand as we said goodbye trying to reach back in time for the story. Years have passed. Your voice fading, the memories now black and white: your music playing in the back room as Grandma and I washed dishes, the day's crossword puzzle  in your tired hands, all distant. They carried your stories away today: the books that shaped your life, the projector that helped me to see the world through your eyes. These pieces  of your history that have guided my journey. How will I remember  without holding them in my hand? © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by Random Noodli...

My World  Racing out the door I bark again and again trying to sound bigger than I am. My eyes do not see like they once did. My ears no longer hear the danger that surrounds me. Moving around my favorite spaces to circle the tree, to smell grass, I bark louder. My world is smaller now than it once was. I no longer see the deer taunting me, the rabbits wanting to play. I no longer hear the birds in the trees or my family calling me to come back in. So I will bark long and loud, to protect the space that remains in my world. © Cathy L. Mere, 2016

Country Living When I moved to this country home I knew I did just the right thing. Yes, I miss the power lines, the ability to skitter from tree to tree along city streets. Yes, I miss my cousins who nested in the trees near my old home and would stop by to visit. But it was noisy there in the city, and the cars were too frequent.   When I arrived  at my country home I knew this would be the place I'd live forever. Yes, I have to watch for the dog  that races out of the house from time to time wanting to play chase. Yes, I have to watch for the coyote who saunters through the fields every now and then looking for his next meal.   But, there are no squirrels that live nearby, when oak drops her acorns they are all mine. Cars are rarely seen  near my new home, and the quiet is something I have learned to love. Today I found the best treasure: stuffing for my new nest. It's fluffy wh...

The Poet I wonder where she finds the words that flow from her pen into her leather bound notebook where pages once blank bounce with lilting lines. She wanders the world with eyes wide open searching for something the rest of us do not yet see. Though poems try to escape her she captures them, piece by piece, in tiny details, in words sculpted with care. Like the photographer she sees with different eyes, holds the image still, for others to see, just as she sees it. Like the musician she finds a rhythm, speaks the truth, in ways we do not understand. Like the artist she captures color, creates mood; helping others to know the beauty overlooked. I want to walk beside her as she spends her day pursuing her poem, words wandering through her world, arranging and rearranging themselves. It must be some kind of magic as she waves her wand pen, turning the ordinary into something never seen before. © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 The Idea To...

I don't know how many sunrises I have seen pinks, purples, and white-yellows blending in the morning sky; the day calling with possibility. I don't know how many times I have looked up at the afternoon sky, bright blue with clouds dancing, settling into the rhythm of the day. I don't know how many sunsets have painted the earth the sun resting on the horizon hues of red, purple, and orange; as the day begins to close. I don't know how many times I've looked up at the ebony sky at night, constellations dot the canvas; as dreams replace reality. I don't know how many skies I have seen in this wonderful lifetime or how many more will follow in moments yet to come. I only know I am grateful for each. © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by  The Poem Farm  where Amy VanDerwater hosts today's parade of wondrous words.                        ...

"One learns by thinking and writing, and by talking about writing - but primarily through writing."       ---Mary Oliver, A Poetry Handbook (p. 17) Today one door closes another one opens, as today I step from the month long Slice of Life Writing Challenge with Two Writing Teachers into a month of writing poetry for April's National Poetry Month celebration.  I'm looking forward to spending some time writing poetry.  This is my third year to join poetry bloggers in a month of writing (thanks, Mary Lee , for the nudge and inspiration). Many moons ago I was talking about poetry with a friend and poet.  We were discussing poetry and I was lamenting that poets seemed to have a style.  I'm always trying to figure out my style.  Do I write for children or adults?  Do I write about small things or moments?  What type of poetry feels right when I sit down to put words on paper?  Without skipping a beat, my friend commented, "...

Yesterday I met with our Slice of Life group , a mix of first through fifth graders, for our last meeting before the challenge ends.  The students gathered around the carpet as we talked about what we've loved about the challenge.  One student shared that she has written every day for two years of the challenge.  "I'm not sure what I will do next year when I'm in the sixth grade building," she bemoaned. "No worries," I assured her, "you just track me down.  I'll help you figure it out." The group started to rumble as they considered the end of our challenge.  Our conversation turned to what they'd learned in their month of writing.  Several students had written every day, or nearly every day, since the challenge began.  Others had maintained some consistency in posting for the month.  Everyone had learned lessons of one kind or another.  We started a Padlet for students to share what they had learned with the group (you can view t...

"I keep going back to your blog, but I haven't seen any new posts in awhile," my mom comments nonchalantly one evening as we chat on the phone. I chuckle.  Saying you haven't seen any posts in "awhile" was a huge understatement.  I knew it had been weeks since my last post.  Actually, it was quite likely, the time could be measured in months.  "You know how I am.  When life gets busy, the blog seems to be the first thing to go," I reply. I had to smile.  My mom is probably the only person in the world that has noticed I haven't posted from my blog in awhile.  My mom constantly stops by to check out what I have been writing, and always leaves a comment. It makes me smile.  It's one thing to be in first grade and have your work hung on the refrigerator, but it's quite another to be as old as I am and still have a mom who is rooting for your every move. In life moms come in many packages, but I lucked out for sure.  When life get...

A little over a week ago the rains came down for hours and hours.  The water swelled in the backyard forming a temporary pond to fool the ducks.  The skies stayed gray and our sump pump worked and worked.  My husband headed downstairs the next morning to put salt in our water softener to find water rising just above the first step of our basement. Since that day, we've been working through the process of getting the basement back together.  I find the task overwhelming.  Where do we begin?  Do we get a dumpster?  Do we haul out everything?  What can stay?  Thankfully, I handle most of our day to day jobs, but my husband is the king in crisis.  He's ready to dig in and get it done.  He's just waiting on the green light to toss all of the items that rest below our first floor. To get the ball rolling all I really need to do is walk downstairs and inventory.  What can be saved?  There are so many items of memory downsta...

Songs of Joy Today the earth celebrates: birds of all colors sing songs of joy, buds ready to burst rest on branches, the sun rises to warm the land, the sky the bluest of blues, the daffodil dances, the grass, once brown now the deepest of green, abundant in the newness of life. Rejoice! © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 For the month of March I will be participating in the  March Slice of Life Challenge  hosted at  Two Writing Teachers .  It will be a busy month of writing, commenting, and learning with this community.   Stop by  today's link up  to join the conversation or find some great reading.

What's New? I'm a device gal.  Technology and gadgets are my thing so it doesn't really surprise people when I tell them I prefer to read on a device.  Despite what the research says, it doesn't keep me up at night.  I also question research that talks about retaining what we read if we're reading on a device.  It seems to me the secret might be knowing how to highlight, note, and actively engage in a digital text.  There are so many advantages to reading on a device: It's easy to carry a collection of books with you at all times. I'm ready for any reading emergency. Selection.  Selection.  Selection.  I have a record of the all the books I've read (very helpful when I forget a title --- which is all of the time). I can adjust the font side. I can refer back to lines or information read in just a few clicks on the screen. How far it is to the end of the book never stresses me out (it did in a regular book). There's no need to find sp...

Oh, night writer, how I envy thee; with your ability to find words as the stars illuminate the sky. You've spent your day collecting: stories, phrases, moments. Wrapping them in the pages of your notebook as your day settles.       I'm a morning writing.       Though I try,       my words       don't rise with the moon.       It seems I must carry them       into my dreams, where they       toss,       grow,       multiply.       My song plays       as the sun rises.       Words find their way       to the paper       as the world awakens:       the chickadee chirps,       the robin sings,       the finch flits about,       as I tap away       composing stories   ...

It's late.  I'm tired.  I had class tonight and just finished getting together all the information I need to have my taxes done tomorrow.  Ugh.  Taxes.  So I'm going to end this day with a short piece....five things that were great about today. Lunch with my aunt and uncle who are visiting from South Carolina.  It's always great to catch up with them.  I had a little time between lunch and my class so I headed over to the bookstore.   Before class I spent some time at Starbucks with a cup of coffee and some poetry.   I started planning for April's poetry month events.  I've wavered between not participating, to not tying myself down to a plan, to maybe a plan would be nice.  More to come on this... Tax information is in an envelop and ready for my tax appointment.  Yep, for those of you that know me best, I'm getting my taxes done "early" this year.   For the month of March I will be participating in the...

We Choose We can invest in worry about safety, about health, about others. We can invest  in fear of those with differences, of tomorrows, of ourselves. We can invest in waiting for a moment, for a miracle, for something to happen. or We can invest in being, in reaching, in changing, in doing, in making a difference. The choice is ours. © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 For the month of March I will be participating in the  March Slice of Life Challenge  hosted at  Two Writing Teachers .  It will be a busy month of writing, commenting, and learning with this community.   Stop by  today's link up  to join the conversation or find some great reading.

Where the mountains touch the sky. Where the water  shimmers of sapphire. Where spring  comes earlier. Where flowers  color the earth. Where brown  has long since gone. Where everywhere the world is green.   Where games  are required. Where winning is not. Where dessert comes first.  Where laughter reigns. Where no matter how old you think you might you be, you will cared for, and reminded  there's no better place than a trip to mom's.  © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 For the month of March I will be participating in the  March Slice of Life Challenge  hosted at  Two Writing Teachers .  It will be a busy month of writing, commenting, and learning with this community.   Stop by  today's link up  to join the conversation or find some great reading.