fiction · Writing

Mr. Barleigh

Mr. Barleigh kept the floors clean at the primary school. He swept. He mopped. He picked up trash.

Mr. Barleigh moved at one pace. It wasn’t slow, really. It wasn’t fast, certainly. It was an amble.

Mr. Barleigh was tall and thin. He had minimal hair, peppery-grayish. His uniform shirt was loose, as were his pants, but his suspenders kept everything in order. He had suspenders in a variety of colors and patterns. The children were always interested to see which suspenders he had on.

Mr. Barleigh knew every student’s name and greeted them by name every day.

Mr. Barleigh carved turtles out of little bits of wood and he gave one to each student. “We can learn a lot from turtles,” he would say, “but the two most important things are ‘Move at your own pace’ and ‘Be comfortable in your own shell.'”

Mr. Barleigh smiled when one of the 2nd grade teachers used his turtle sayings for a bulletin board. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but there’s so much wisdom in those words!”

Mr. Barleigh always ate his lunch in the cafeteria, sitting with a different group of children every day.

One day, Mr. Barleigh didn’t come to work. Teachers and students alike were concerned. The police officer who went to his house found that he had died in his sleep. He also found that every bit of wallspace in his house was covered with school photos and drawings from children.


This is my submission to the Unicorn Challenge. The rules for the challenge are simple — no more than 250 words and use the photo as a prompt.

poetry

Longing for the window seat

From the window seat on the plane, plain
Stretches out. And sometimes I see sea.
Sometimes it is a sandy beach. Beech
Trees with maple, birch, hemlock wood would
Populate my view. Back row aisle, I’ll
Say that my view is, of course, coarse
Economy class — deaf to my pleas: Please,
I need the window but I know no
One cares! [sigh] Be there in a few. Phew!


This is my submission to the W3 Challenge. This week we are challenged to write an “Echo Verse” which means the last syllable is repeated at the end of each line. It was a fun challenge.

When I fly, which isn’t often, I truly am a window seat person all the way.

Life · poetry

Some things on my “to-do list” that never gets done

Some things on my “to-do list” that never get done
Sleep all night
Lose 10 pounds
Go out for a run

Other stuff on my “to-do list” that I keep passing by
Clean the house
Clean out the barn
Weed the garden — beautify!

What I want on my to-do list instead of all that stuff
Daydream
Moodle
Sketch
or doodle
Make some art with pasta noodles
Play the flute
Or trombone
Spend two weeks without my phone
Call old friends
To just say “Hi!
I’m thinking of you! Okay, bye!”

To-do lists are a tool, that’s all
Whether long or whether small
Crossing items off feels good
Instead of focusing on “should”


The title of this post was a prompt that showed up in Jetpack.

poetry

Writer’s Dice: Nature Poem

Snowy prints
Down the ramp
Whose are they?
Some wild scamp

Perhaps fox
Or wild cat —
Which of you
Would do that?

‘Cross the street
Off you’d go
River-ward
Through the snow

While I slept
There you trod
All unseen
But by God

But, by God,
Prints reveal
You exist
You are real

You are close
You are bold
I must ask
Aren’t you cold?


Today’s roll of the dice: JOYFUL, POEM, NATURE, STRANGER

I decided to write a Cethramtu Rannaigechta Moire, an Irish poetic form that requires 3 syllable lines in quatrains. The second and fourth lines rhyme.

Also, I decided to look back at the photos on my phone for the first nature photo that wasn’t the moon and use that as additional inspiration.

I am perpetually cold this time of year. It was -7 when I first looked at the temp this morning. Hence the last line.

gratitude · Life

TToT – February 1

I’ve woven my Ten Things of Thankful into a recap of my week.

This week I’ve been 1Riding the Robbie Burns wave. The event last week was such a rousing success that I’ve had people all week stopping in to say thanks and to offer suggestions for next year. “Next year let’s have scones, too.” “Next year, let’s put out some Robert Burns poems in case other people want to read one.” “Next year, I want to be sure to invite so-and-so.” For me, that response has been a continual encouragement.

This week we had a presentation from the 2New York State Police K9 training facility just outside our town. It was fascinating. The dog he brought with him was a Belgian Malinois. I was surprised at the size (small) and the energy level (huge).

On Wednesday, I had a rough appointment regarding a difficult thing I’m working through. As chance would have it, that same day I had an appointment with 3Rachel, my counselor. I know I’ve mentioned her before, but I can’t say enough about having someone safe and wise to talk things through with.

I also had a local friend reach out to me — 4Jan — which meant a lot. Very grateful for her.

My hip has been bothering me more and more. I don’t really like this aspect of growing old. However, 5swimming can hold the pain at bay a little bit, and I made it in the pool three times this week. Also I finally, reached out to an 6orthopedic surgeon to discuss what comes next. That appointment isn’t until March — but still, I made the appointment which is something I’ve been procrastinating. I’m thankful for both of those things.

Today, however, after I swam, I went back to my locker and my 7necklace wasn’t there. This necklace is so special to me. I wear it ALL the time. It has three discs: one with a tree to symbolize family and the other two have my children’s name along the edge. I am incredibly thankful that it was at home. I must have taken it off there before heading to the pool.

Our town’s 8Winter Carnival is this weekend. I went on a trip down Memory Lane with some photographs, trying to remember what year was MY first winter carnival. I think these are from 1968. They had the snow sculptures right on Main Street! I’m not even sure they do them anymore.

Stewart, Peter, and Sally
Sally (off to the left) and Stewart

This weekend is also the opening of the Quilt Show at the local art association. My youngest brother has taken up quilting, so someone asked if he had any quilts in the show. I don’t think he does, but I have one on my bed that I absolutely love. He gave 9this quilt to me this fall, telling me that the colors are Mom’s colors (true) but that it made him think of me. I LOVE my quilt.

To give you a sense of the colors

Today I received 10my Rabbit Room mug in the mail. Since my father died, I’ve been less involved with this organization, but I am still so thankful for the work they do and the encouragement they have been to me. Plus I always drink my coffee from a Rabbit Room mug. I have quite a collection of them.

fiction

European Vacation

“Just look!” she said. “Isn’t this amazing?”

He was studying his phone. “I can’t get a signal, Mom. This is stupid.”

She hadn’t told him that she put a temporary hold on his phone plan while they travelled. God only knew how much he would run up in charges.

“C’mon, look,” she said again. “It’s so beautiful. You’ll never see anything like this in Binghamton.”

Binghamton, New York. A city well past its glory days. Gone was the IBM plant. Gone were the shoe factories. Gone were all the manufacturing jobs that had drawn people there a century before.

Gone, too, were many of the historic old buildings. The upkeep and repair was too much. Gone.

Now they were on a European tour. She hoped it would open his eyes.

“Put your phone away,” she said. “Look.”

He slid his phone into his back pocket and looked. “The streets are too narrow, Mom. I don’t like it.”

“But it’s so –” she started to say.

“It’s claustrophobic, Mom,” he interrupted. “And I haven’t seen a single pickup truck. Just those stupid clown cars that are too tiny. I’m amazed people can fold themselves small enough to fit inside.”

She sighed. Pickup trucks and beer, she thought and shook her head.

He sighed too, and thought, Pickup trucks, beer, and weed. What I wouldn’t give for a little right now.

“Let’s walk down this street,” she said.

He pulled out his phone and looked at it. “I still don’t have a signal.”


This is my submission to the Unicorn Challenge. It’s a simple challenge — no more than 250 words and use the photo for a prompt.

Thankfully, this was NOT my experience when I traveled (pre-COVID) with my children. I do think that travel is the best way to open people’s eyes.

poetry

Introvert

In the shadow of the forest
In the shadow of this wood
In the shadow of one maple
In the shadow there I stood
In the shadow am I hiding?
In the shadow I’m abiding
In the shadow, in the shadow – all is good


The W3 prompt for this week is as follows:

  • THEME: Explore the contrast between light and darkness;
    • Use metaphor to reveal hidden truths or surprising insights;
  • FORM: Each line must begin with the phrase “In the shadow of…”
  • LENGTH: Exactly 7 lines;
  • TONE/IMAGERY: Create vivid imagery that evokes a sense of mystery or revelation;
    • Aim for a narrative arc that transitions or oscillates between themes of obscurity and clarity.

I got the 7-line part right, so I should get partial credit for that — but no metaphors or vivid imagery. Sorry. Just the thoughts of an introvert who has had a rough week.

Can I go hide somewhere now? In the shadow?

Life

Courage

I just started reading Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s book Night Flight. I kind of love his definition of courage in the forward.

It’s a concoction of feelings that are not so very admirable. A touch of anger, a spice of vanity, a lot of obstinacy, and a tawdry ‘sporting’ thrill.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

My sister recently said to me, “I’ve always admired your courage.” Did she mean my touch of anger, spice of vanity, and my obstinacy? I’ve always thought of what I do as not courage, but jumping into things with both feet without weighing all the consequences. I think that may qualify as foolishness.

But just to get YOU thinking, here are a few more thoughts on courage, bravery, and cowardice:

Courage is knowing when not to fear.

Plato — or maybe Aristotle

Courage is grace under pressure.

Ernest Hemingway

It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.

J. K. Rowling

Brave men hide their deeds as decent folk their alms. They disguise them or make excuses for them.

Quentin Crisp, The Naked Civil Servant (quoted in the forward to Night Flight)

To see the right and not to do it is cowardice.

Confucius

Happy are those who dare courageously to defend what they love.

Ovid

How about you? What are your thoughts on courage?