Rainy Writing

It’s April.

It should be sunny in California.  There should be puffy clouds, puppies, bunnies, and ducklings floating in the blue.  There should be smells of fresh grass. There should be a gentle breeze bringing the hope of spring.

Instead, it’s raining – a steady rain soaking the world and forcing kitties indoors.

The reality of being stuck at home is taking its toll.  We’re starting to see what happens in a global crisis – some unite in common purpose, some become selfish, and some try to deny reality.

What’s a poet to do? Pick a side and join their chorus?  What side is compassion on?

Perhaps I just think too much.  Maybe if it were sunny I could build another planter box, and my busy hands would keep my mind silent.


April is also National Poetry Month.  Many bloggers are participating in NaPoWriMo – National Poetry Writing Month.

Last year I thought about participating, but dismissed it as not the way I work.  I tend to think about a single poem for a long time before I actually write it down.  NaPoWriMo asks you to write a poem a day.  I’ve tried doing that at a couple of writing conferences.  It’s not easy for me and the resulting poems weren’t exactly what I wanted, but they weren’t horrible.

So this year I’m thinking of trying.  I am stuck at home and sometimes breaking old creative habits can surface new ones.

I should have started on Wednesday, but … well life and indecision.

Well, today I decided to start.  Fragments of poems have been popping into my head, so of the five poems I should have written – I’ve completed three.

Many people who do this share their poems with daily posts.  I haven’t decided if I’ll do that, I might.

But right now the rain is easing and hope that the sun will break through.

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Friday Wisdom – Cost of Living

Living on Earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around the sun.


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Wednesday Gardening – Potato in Containers

We’ve been officially notified that we’re to shelter in place for another month.

Month.  The garden has been our main outdoor activity.  Heather planted some potatoes in containers last month and they are exploding:

Potatoes in two large plastic tubs.

We’ve also prepared another veggie planting area in our caged garden.  A few things here, but soon we’ll add peppers, tomatoes and some beans.

The caged garden to keep our local raccoons out of the veggies.

Heather also planted a row of corn in the driveway planter bed.

Stay safe everyone.


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There is no way to write what is really in my mind tonight.  I’ve tried – two deleted essays and a poem that won’t finish.

Poems have a life of their own.  They only come out when they are ready.  You can’t force them, just like you can’t force the expression feelings.  Sometimes they come when called and sometimes unexpectedly.

I sit in my house watching a tectonic shift taking place in the world.  Fear grips many, some see hope emerging, and some sew face masks.  Heather sent 20 to the hospital today.

The question and the answer I want to give is elusive.  It’s like a fly in the garden, there one moment and gone the next.

At my marquetry bench I slowly cut flowers into the background of a clock.

At the keyboard I wrestle with words.

In the kitchen I miss that there are mushrooms for the pizza.

Part of surviving these times is just doing as many normal things as possible.

Part of these times is how you face the world and the unknown.

I’d like to think I can face it with grace and courage.

Sadly, I often fall short and the poem remains a tangled mass of thread.

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