A friend of mine has just published a huge book of quotes, jokes, puns, and interesting facts that will prove a terrific resource for public speakers of all genres. Called simply SPEAKER’S GOLDMINE, the 436-page book has a lot to offer — so much so, in fact, that rather than trying to type out an ad for it myself, I’m posting the book trailer so you can get a close-up look at what it’s all about. I hope it can serve as a help to some of you podcasters, educators, ministers, and motivational and inspirational speakers.
I share more personal stories about drinking coffee, from half a cup, thick with milk and sugar, allowed in childhood, to large cups, hot and black, once old enough to make my own choices. This episode includes the story of my father’s tornado experience and his insistence on building a storm cellar as a result. And, naturally, after a night in a storm cellar, nothing but coffee can get things back to normal. I round out the episode with one of my coffee poems.
April is National Poetry Writing Month, and although several years I’ve celebrated it by trying to write a poem every day — and almost succeeding some of those years — I knew I couldn’t work at that pace this time around. In fact, I accidentally let April slip in without one rhyme. But today I decided I need to at least make the effort to contribute to the world’s collection of poetry by writing a few new poems during April. So I’m making a start right now.
WHERE IS SPRING?
Spring is trying hard to get a start this year. March did come in with lion winds on cue. But other elements just cannot get in gear, The weather’s gray and cold, and that won’t do.
Daffodils did bloom and lift their yellow heads, Only to be beaten down by storms and rain. They lay forlorn and helpless, flat upon their beds, And now its wet and gray and cold again.
I just don’t know what’s happened to our happy spring. When scents of flowers and grasses fill the air. When golden sun and bluest skies cause birds to sing. And folks can catch ‘spring fever’ everywhere.
Maybe it will change and warm up in no time. I surely hope that’s true, ’cause here’s the thing: To end this poem I need to have a word that rhymes, And I can’t think of anything but Spring!
WAIT A MINUTE. Roses come in scores of colors. And violets are … well … violet — not blue. In fact, both flowers come in a variety of colors. So what’s my point?
I’m not really complaining about the color of any one flower. I just got to thinking about that particularly well-known bit of verse, and about how we as poets really do feel we have our own kind of literary license. What is it about poets that makes them think they can write just anything they want to write as long as it rhymes and keeps the meter smooth and uninterrupted? Well, I’ll tell you what it is about us:
We love words — the sounds of words — the rhythm of words — the music of words. And we love playing around with lots of different numbers of syllables. We love to hear consonants repeated, vowels repeated, digraphs repeated. And if we need to turn a sentence around backwards to get the right rhythm — or leave out a couple letters replaced by an apostrophe — or go beyond the norm with hyperbole — well, it’s all part of what we see as our job —— and to be honest —— it’s part of the FUN of writing poetry.
True poets follow rules of meter and rhyme and correct use of figurative language. But we also follow rules of emotion, yearning, and imagination. So, yes, we do believe that it’s okay if we altar reality a bit here and there or say things backwards. If it helps make the poem touch a heart, grab the imagination, take the reader to another realm, or tickle his funny-bone, we figure we’ve done our job well.
And, personally, I think that’s why a poem can speak to readers in such unique ways. People don’t always realize it when they are reading a poem, but it’s those quirky kinds of things — those little excursions away from what is generally the “accepted” pattern — that has caused many a poem to grab a place in the reader’s mind and heart and stay there.
So okay. I decided to have a little fun with this subject and can now offer you a choice of poems that get to the real truth. I’ll post both of there here, and you can take your pick:
UNTRUSTWORTHY POETS
Roses are red? Violets are blue? I beg to differ; It just isn’t true:
Roses are found in any color we choose. I’ve seen them in yellows and oranges and blues. Why, I’ve even seen them in ugly chartreuse! And violets, I’ve learned, also vary in hue: Yellow and pink, even white; it’s quite true. So never trust a poet to tell you the truth. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PURPOSE IN POEMS
Roses are red; Violets are blue; We don’t always stick With only what’s true. We’re looking for words With meter and rhyme, And if we can’t find them, We might tend to whine. So cut us some slack; We’re doing our best. If a poem gives you pleasure, It passes the test.
Almost all of my friends and family are sane people who wear their shoes inside their houses as well as outside. Unless, of course, their feet hurt; then that’s a different story. But there are those humans out there who have this absurd notion that people should remove their shoes as soon as they enter a building and go barefoot — or possibly sock-footed — while inside. A few switch to special shoes that are reserved only for “in-house” wear, and several even offer said shoes to visitors. (Although it’s beyond me why they think visitors would want to wear shoes worn by any number of other people they don’t even know.)
I really don’t know if these weird people are worried about getting their floors dirty or if they have some religious scruples — like being afraid of offending the god of flooring or something. But doesn’t it ever bother them when they use the bathroom (especially in homes with boys or men who often are not careful where they aim)? I mean, when they feel something wet on their socks or bare feet, do they not even wonder what that is???
Well, either way, suffice it to say that those people never have to worry about a visit from me. I just happened to be sitting quietly and thinking about this subject recently and decided to express myself poetically.
VISITING FEET
Remove my shoes? I don’t think so. I go no place unshod. When entering homes, I wipe my soles Of dirt through which I’ve trod.
But if my host requires that I Remove my own footwear, I must reply, being stern but kind, I won’t be visiting there.
Some will supply soft slippers worn For walking through their home, But why would I desire shoes worn By others, some unknown?
So overall, it’s best to say, When invitations come, If I’m required to bare my toes, I’ll choose to stay at home.
I realize I’m lagging in moving forward with this new coffee series. I’ve had tons of stuff going on over the past couple months, and just never could find enough time, energy, and creativity all at the same time to get back to blogging with any regularity. But I’m on it again today. Hopefully, I can stick with it a little better over the next couple weeks at least. Anyway, let’s focus on some coffee now.
I thought today I’d talk to you about dunking. It probably isn’t considered good manners in any culture to take a piece of food in your hand and stick it into your cup of coffee until it gets soggy — and then slurp it into your mouth — possibly even dripping some coffee down your chin at the same time. 🙂 But I’ve done it since I was a kid, and I love it. (Well, not the part about the coffee dripping down my chin.)
Some of my favorite memories from childhood involve times when my grandmother, my mom, my sister and I went to another town very early on several Saturday mornings to visit my mom’s sister and her four kids. Grandma always bought a big box of doughnuts, and my aunt brewed a pot of coffee. We all sat around the table with cups of coffee, ready for dunking. Now, of course, we kids all had cups half full of a brew that was made up of about one half coffee and one half milk and sugar.
But those were such special times. And every once in a while, when I’m missing my family, I think back to those Saturday mornings. And sometimes I go out and buy myself some doughnuts just to sit and dunk them in my coffee while I sit and remember how happy we all were to be together enjoying that treat.
Of course, my coffee today is a little different from what it was back then. I stopped using sugar in my coffee about the time I got out of college, but I still used milk until one day when I was teaching high school and got really nauseous. I knew I had to get something to settle my stomach quickly, so during the 3 minute break between classes, I rushed down to the cafeteria to see what might be available. The lady in charge had just brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and it smelled so good. Suddenly I felt that if I sipped a little hot coffee with nothing else in it, that would help my stomach. And to my surprise, it did the trick. Just a few sips of the black coffee totally settled my stomach, and I have never added milk or anything else to my coffee since then.
Once in a great while, I will try some specialty coffee that has a lot of flavored cream or syrup — just to have a different experience — but those times are rare, and I usually end up disappointed in how it tastes after all.
But now back to dunking: I have never outgrown the desire to dunk things in my coffee. Cookies, of course, top the list of dunkables, along with doughnuts. But I also like to dunk my toast in my coffee as well. Occasionally, I dunk crackers, and I remember a time or two when I dunked my chocolate fudge in my coffee. Mmmmmmm!!!. When my mom was alive and we could be together on Christmas Eve, she and I made it a habit to have some of her homemade fudge and coffee for breakfast every Christmas Eve. What fun.
And, of course, it’s so many of those special family memories that make coffee a comfort food for me. I’m sure that’s a good part of the reason I love coffee so much and want to drink it every day. And I’m grateful that I can drink it without any negative effects. I can even drink it right before going to bed. In fact, some nights when I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, I can drink a cup of coffee and get all relaxed and settled enough to get to sleep again. And, of course, if I’m really wide awake, grabbing a couple chocolate chip cookies and dunking them rounds off those midnight snacks perfectly.
I hope everyone reading this article has had the joy of dunking goodies in their coffee. But if you have not, be sure you try it before the day’s over. You won’t be sorry. But be sure and keep a napkin handy for your chin. 🙂
If I were to write my autobiography, my opening sentence would have to be the following:
“I have always been a rebel at heart.”
Now, I know that sounds as though I have been a trouble-maker all my life. I haven’t been — honestly. And basically, I tend to follow rules of orderly and peaceful living. But I have always had a serious problem following any rules that don’t make sense — or that are unfair. I realize that judging whether something makes sense or is fair can be a very subjective act. And personal opinion can play a part. But when I come face-to-face with any rules that cause me to back up or bristle a little, I stop and carefully consider them. I honestly try to see them from various angles and points of view. But if, after that consideration, the rules still seem to be senseless — or even stupid — or they seem to take advantage of certain people or put them in an awkward or extremely difficult position — I balk at obeying those rules.
I have been known to fight huge companies — sometimes for months — over rules and regulations that are unjust or that cause customers or clients to have to go our to their way and do extra work in order to use those companies’ services. Phone companies, grocery store chains, and department store chains are a few of the types of organizations I have taken on. I do the same with civic organizations that take unfair advantage of local citizens or mistreat them in some way.
Unfortunately, as I get older, I desire less and less confrontation. There was a time when I gladly made my stand against all rules and regulations that I felt were wrong, but over the past decade, I find that I tend to wait a bit and think things over before I jump into the fray. I guess I’m learning to choose my battles a little more than I did in my younger years. Sometimes now I just sigh and comply — but only sometimes. I do still stand up and fight for things that are really crucial or that can affect a very large number of people. And, even when I don’t take up the fight, I am still rebelling in my heart. So — yes — I think one of the most accurate ways I could begin my autobiography would be acknowledging that I have always been a rebel.
But that’s all the details I’m going to cover. I think I’ll save all the rest of them for that autobiography — you know — the one that prompted this article — the one I will most likely never sit down and write. 🙂 🙂 🙂
I could probably list 30 things and then make sub-categories under each one. But I’ll try to stay within the limits of the assignment. Okay, here goes:
Knowing Jesus Christ
Teaching God’s Word
Praying with and for others and helping them receive from the Lord
Writing – fiction, non-fiction, & poetry
Creating Book Covers
Drinking Coffee
Visiting with friends — especially when we drink coffee at the same time. 🙂
Eating chocolate
Eating bacon
Eating mashed potatoes
Christmas — decorating, gift buying, family get-to-gethers — everything
Sunrises
Sunsets
Spending time at the ocean
Spending time in the Smoky Mountains
Painting & Sketching — watercolor, acrylics, ink
Painting birds in particular — my imaginative versions of birds
The stars when they seem bright & close
Playing music – mainly keyboard
Teaching writing
Teaching people how to use and be comfortable with computers & the Internet
Reading Miss Read books
Reading A Redbird Christmas — over and over
Reading The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency Series
Reading a Good Cozy Mystery
Playing with dogs
Singing — mostly privately as worship
Dancing
Autumn — especially the whole month of October
Remembering all the blessed times I’ve had with loved ones
This exercise has been fun. It really refreshes the soul to sit and think about things that make us happy. I probably need to do this at least once a week.
Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve had an opportunity to participate in Trent’s Weekly Smileposts, but I really did want to get back to it. The truth is that I haven’t been posting regularly at all during the past year and a half. Like most people, my whole life — work, social functions, even ministry functions — have been totally messed up with all the covid junk. (I refuse to capitalize that word; it doesn’t deserve to be capitalized.) There have been a number of things that kept me from smiling. My sister had a battle with cancer during that time, and she passed away in the latter half of 2021. So smiles have been a little hard to come by.
She was the only really close family I had left, although I do try to stay connected with her two sons and their families. This year at Christmas, we felt the need to be connected even more strongly, but on Christmas Eve, one of my nephews and his wife had to be tested for covid, and they couldn’t get the results back in time for us to be together at Christmas. They didn’t have covid (and that in itself is worth a smile), but our window of opportunity for that holiday was past. But not to be defeated, we finally worked out a plan to get together at a later time, so that we could all eat together and open gifts and just have another “family” Christmas.
Now, I come to the ‘SMILE’ part of my story. One of my nephews had bought the newest Oculus Quest for his brother’s kids. Now, I has seen these gizmos and had watched a couple kids having fun with them, but I never even thought about trying one out. But, lo and behold, my nephew who had purchased the Oculus decided his 73-year-old aunt needed to get into the 21st century a little better, so he insisted that I put on the headset and let him instruct me in how to use it.
I’m not sure how many of you readers out there have tried out the Oculus Quest, so some of you probably know a lot more about it than I do even now, but I can say it was truly an experience I hadn’t even imagined. I’ve seen sci-fi movies in which characters experienced some things like I experienced with the Oculus, but I just never really thought about doing so myself.
It was truly like entering an entirely different world. In fact the scene that came up immediately made me feel that I was standing on a strange planet, and if I hadn’t felt the good old Earth beneath my feet, I would have been a little nervous. I have to say the fact that my nephew and his son made an issue of making sure I had plenty of empty space all around me before I put the headset on was a little unnerving to begin with. My thought was, What am I going to be doing in all this space? But I realized that it was just precautionary since I couldn’t see the real word around me at all once the headset was on.
The options for activities and games that are literally “at your fingertips” is amazing. Just learning how to maneuver the hand sets was an experience. But as strange as it was, it was also delightful. I definitely smiled a lot. And even though it’s been a little more than a week since that experience, I am still smiling every time I remember it. So I figured why not make that the smile I share for this week.
The takeaway from all this experience is two-fold: Remembering it and the comradery with my nephews still makes me smile — and the whole experience has triggered a couple new ideas for brand new stories. And new story ideas always make me smile. So if any of you writers out there haven’t tried out the Oculus Quest yet, you might want to put it on your list of things to do in this New Year.
Please excuse the shadows around the edges. I cut these out of my sketchbook. The eggs are numbered because I used them for a contest on my Facebook page. But I left the numbers on there in case you’d like to drop down to the comment window and let me know which one you like best.
It just came to my attention today that I have done 43 separate posts on the subject of coffee — not counting a story or two set in a coffee shop , posts about my favorite foods, or my “weekend coffee share” posts. Wow. I guess I appreciate coffee. But then, that makes sense. Coffee is soothing, satisfying, comforting, energizing, and beneficial to health (according to some medical research I’ve read about.)
So, have a cup on me today — and make it a great day!
P. S. If you’re interested in reading the coffee posts, you’ll find them by clicking on the two ‘coffee’ categories in the navigation bar right below the header photo.
It’s hot as blazes here where I live — heat index of 108 even at night — so, naturally, my thoughts turn toward Christmas. Well, to be honest, I think about Christmas a lot anyway. It’s my favorite holiday, and because my family always celebrated in a big way, we have lots and lots of wonderful memories and traditions that we still enjoy. I always smile when I think about any of them. I always smile just thinking about Christmas. I listen to Christmas music and watch Christmas movies all year long, and I have a website devoted exclusively to that holiday. If you’d like to visit, here’s the link: “Merry Christmas, World!”
Anyway, one thing that made me smile this week was this picture I took of this gingerbread house. I didn’t construct it. A friend of mine did: a man who had always wanted to make a gingerbread house, but never had the opportunity as a child and evidently didn’t feel it was a seemly thing to an adult man to do. But a few years ago, at the age of 54, he decided to purchase a kit and build himself a gingerbread house. I was so happy that he took that plunge. He enjoyed it immensely, and when it came time to deconstruct (i. e. eat) it, he made sure I was there and shared it with me. The photo still makes me smile.
The Happy Wordcrafter 