Celebrating National Poetry Month: #9

Neighbors

The live alone
together,

she with her wide hind
and bird face,
he with his hung belly
and crewcut.

They never talk
but keep busy.

Today they are
washing windows
(each window together)
she on the inside,
he on the outside.
He squirts Windex
at her face,
she squirts Windex
at his face.

Now they are waving
to each other
with rags,

not smiling.

David Allen Evans

Propagation: Notes From a Country Garden

We learned about five years ago how to propagate plants. I had always known how to put starts in water to root them. That works well with wandering jew, ivy, and coleus. Then we tried stem cuttings. This has been very successful with geraniums. Last Sunday was propagating day in the greenhouse. This year we also tried it with fuchsias and begonias.

Find a healthy stem cutting off the plant.

Dip the end of the stem in root hormone powder (found in any garden department of a store).

Place it in a small pot with potting mix added.

You can place a little plastic tent over it to create a little greenhouse. In the spring we don't find this necessary. We placed each plant in a sunny window.

Watch it and keep the water moist.

When it forms roots, move it to a bigger pot.

I especially like to do propagating of variegated varieties of geraniums that I enjoyed the season before. I also have success with scented geraniums.

A good resource book I find helpful is Seeds and Propagation by Susan McClure, from the Hands-On Gardener series by Smith and Hawkin.

Lily followed me around the greenhouse Sunday afternoon and was my little helper.

Celebrating National Poetry Month: #8

When I Am Asked

When I am asked
how I began writing poems,
I talk about the indifference of nature.

It was soon after my mother died,
a brilliant June day,
everything blooming.

I sat on a gray stone bench
in a lovingly planted garden,
but the day lilies were as deaf
as the ears of drunken sleepers
and the roses curved inward.
Nothing was black or broken
and not a leaf fell
and the sun blared endless commercials
for summer holidays.

I sat on a gray stone bench
ringed with the ingenue faces
of pink and white impatiens
and placed my grief
in the mouth of language,
the only thing that would grieve with me.

Lisel Mueller, “When I Am Asked” from Alive Together. Copyright © 1996 by Lisel Mueller.

Celebrating National Poetry Month: #7

I have spotted green in my yard!

The First Green of Spring

Out walking in the swamp picking cowslip, march marigold,

this sweet first green of spring. Now sauteed in a pan melting

to a deeper green than ever they were alive, this green, this life,

harbinger of things to come. Now we sit at the table munching

on this message from the dawn which says we and the world

are alive again today, and this is the world's birthday. And

even though we know we are growing old, we are dying, we

will never be young again, we also know we're still right here

now, today, and, my oh my! don't these greens taste good.

David Budbill

I've Been Tagged by Firefly Nights!

Firefly Nights tagged me last week to post 10 weird, random facts, or habits about myself. Since I just returned from camping I decided to list 10 habits of mine when I travel.

1. I always study maps. I am obsessed with routes, roads, and mileage. I never just "take a route on a whim." I have to know where I am going and how long it will take.

2. I panic mildly each time JEJ lifts up the hood of the truck. I try to take The Worse Case Scenario out of my head hoping it is only an oil check or low windshield wiper fluid (in this case it had to do with shorted wires and blinkers and back-up lights).

3. I take more pictures that I could ever need or want, even before I went digital. This goes for a ten-mile road trip around home or a journey to another state.

4. I have not learned the concept of taking small amounts of ingredients for meals when we camp. If I am making something that calls for a teaspoon of mustard, I bring a whole bottle.

5. I am always afraid the Campground Rule Police are going to jump out from behind a tree when as we set up camp and that I need to fill in my form, pay, keep the dogs leashed, and begin quiet hours before we go to the restroom.

6. I love to read all information when we arrive at the campground. I read that board that tells about boating rules (even though I've never owned a boat), camp hosts, summer programs, trails, bear warnings, courgar sightings, and whatever else might be posted.

7. I always want a campfire when we camp. If it is 90 degrees in the shade I really think we need a campfire at night. What is camping without a campfire? JEJ claps his hands when fire restrictions start.

8. I can never decide what book I want to read on a trip so I take five or six.

9. The car cannot move forward more than forty miles without having a good coffee drink in the cupholder.

10. When we arrive home from a trip and I put away the food we didn't need, the books I didn't read, the bedding that wasn't used, the CDs I didn't play, and the maps we didn't open I forget all this when I plan the next excursion. Oh well.... I sure love to plan and pack for a trip.

If you have ten weird, random facts or habits you want to share, please do this meme. It is always fun to learn new things about our blog friends.

Sibling Assignment # 59 and Celebrating National Poetry Month: Poem #6

This week's sibling assignment came from Raymond Pert: It's National Poetry Month. Post an entry focused on one poem that is currently important to you.

You will find RP's here soon and SVG's post about Primary Wonder here.

I have been reading ,rereading, studying, and enjoying poetry as we begin to move through National Poetry Month and I prepare to share some selections with my students as we return to school tomorrow. I found some new and old poems that I enjoyed this week-end. I kept coming across the term prose poem. Oftentimes poetry does lose the sound or theme because the form takes over. I found prose poems exciting. Here was one that struck a chord with me. I will explain why it is currently important to me.

Afternoon Nap
It is like finding a hole in the universe. A door nobody else knows about. You swing it open and crawl through into the streets of a small town. You pass the barbershop. The pharmacy. The bank. The grocery. Maybe a row of grain elevators on the edge of town. All the houses are white. People are sitting out on their porches as if they've been expecting you. They wave and say a few words. Some ask you to come up and visit for a time. They want to know what you were doing before you fell asleep and what you plan on doing when you wake up. They're fascinated by it all. Sleep is the sole religion of this town. Icons of their reclining saints are everywhere. On Sundays even the infirm gather their pillows and blankets and walk to church to lie down on the pews and worship their great and slumbering god. It's such a pleasant place, you almost hate to leave.

David Shumate

When I get overwhelmed I am drawn to the warm, comfortable bed for an afternoon nap. I am not much of a "watch television and nap in the chair" person and hammocks don't appeal to me. I like the darkness and comfort of my own room, often with the dogs or JEJ as nap companions. I have felt overwhelmed with events in life recently and this poem made me pause yesterday and picture that "happy place" I often want to go. A place where sleep rules!


A friend has been dealing with chemotherapy, another neighbor and friend died last night of cancer, a student wrote about being taken from her mother because of meth, a blog friend wrote a moving, but sad post about the loss of her dog, church members are struggling with how to help our pastor, and every day signs of poverty, foreclosures, political bickering, and war remind me that our world is not always that happy place. Those are the times I want to find that hole in the universe. Sometimes I do take an afternoon nap. Other times I focus on what is positive around me. Taking a walk or sitting in the greenhouse can help.

This morning the following scripture was a comfort and stayed with me long after I left church:
" Whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy- meditate on these things." Philippians 4:8

I can't always take an afternoon nap, but I can often meditate on these things.

the photo was by gwen akin @graphistock image