Thanksgiving 2018! Is the Coast Clear?

Photo: P.Tonery, taken several years ago,on Red Rooster Farm.  I love this picture.

Yesterday, we celebrated Thanksgiving at the the farm, with 18 family members!  It's been fun having my adult children home for the holidays.  I am feeling particularly blessed this year. We had a great harvest. Our root cellar is full of many jars-- all lined up and ready to make something delicious on cold winter nights.  Ah, when we open those jars, we can smell and taste the best days of summer.  Have given a lot of our efforts away, and still  we have an abundance.

It literally took more than 10 weeks to do all the processing, which was right in sync with the Fall semester and grading, grading, grading. And on the eighth day, they rested . . . No such luck.

So it's onward.  Now we have a few quiet days before the real marathon begin. The end of the semester is always a wild whirlwind. I have many conferences scheduled for next week. Looking forward to talking to my many creative writers about their work, which should strike terror into many writers' hearts, because they are the new batch of competition.  I have some exceptional writers at both colleges.  All of my classes have been going well this semester.  I have 5 in total.  147 students. All writing. I grade approx. 294 papers per week.  I have a batch to do this weekend, and then the final portfolios. We only have  two weeks left of school, then finals, and once I cross the finish line: Jingle Bells!


Enjoy those leftovers!

Saturday, Gray Skies and Chilly

A gray morning.   Yesterday, full of rain.  In the late afternoon, I went to the market to buy milk, bread, Stacy naked pita chips.  Three women, who passed me walking at different times, said exactly the same line: “At least, it’s not snow.” Fat cold raindrops plopping on our heads. We’re all dreaming of Spring.  I’m so out of sync because of the winter hanging on.  I actually think there is time left in this semester.  But, in truth, time is moving quickly.

Last evening at twilight, a coyote came in and snagged some of our chickens. At this point we’re not sure how many were taken.  The chickens scatter in a panic, hiding in the dark.  We were hoping they went under the porch.  The dark came on fast and we couldn’t see anything. This morning I saw one Brahma walking along the garden’s wooden fence. This is the season of hunger.  The fox and coyote have birthed their litters, and are looking for the quick meal.

I never get used to this.

***

I hope the daily poetry prompts have trigger some new poems.  The act of writing daily can be very soothing, especially now when  there's so many deadlines. I've carved out time to do this, too.

 

 ***If you want to see all the prompts you have to click on older posts.

Monday Morning's Lake Effect: Six more inches of Snow

Photo: P. Tonery, Red Rooster Farm

Overnight, another six inches of snow.  How quiet it is this morning, still the soft sift of so many tiny snowflakes. 

Over coffee, I wandered through several seed catalogs.  Plump beefsteak tomatoes, bigger than a bread basket, perfectly shaped hassocks-- cradle with two hands pressed up against your chest. I can almost smell their fragrance of sun and wind and rain.  I can't believe I'm getting ready for another season of hard work.  I imagine, by the time the good weather arrives, I will be ready to spend time in the gardens.  Most often, it's a healing time.  A time to think quietly while planting all those delicate beginnings. 

On Friday, I renewed my library card in Hamlin, but had to go to Brockport to pick up what I wanted. Once there, I found Russell Banks's latest collection of short stories, A Permanent Member of the Family.  I scooped it up.  I have three weeks to read this sandwiched in between grading papers. I'm so looking forward to relishing each story.  He is such a gorgeous writer. When I saw him read in early December ( an incredible evening. Thank you SUNY Brockport Writers Forum!), I felt so inspired by the way he incorporated his writer's craft in his introductions of the stories he chose to read to us.  I love being read to, too.  Often I wish I could just follow an author, reading to reading, and hopefully hear the whole book.  It's never actually happened, but with a couple of writers in our area, I have heard a lot of their (novel, essay & short story collections). I love having their voices in my head when I'm reading on my own.