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Archive for the ‘Slice of Life’ Category

Spice of Life: Old-Fashioned Cards

Posted in Blogging, Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , on September 12, 2023| 8 Comments »

When was the last time you wrote a card or letter and put a stamp on it and raised the little metal flag on your mailbox? With emails and texts, it’s easy to send a quick message to a friend. But when someone is sick or going through a tough time, many (women for the most part) turn to the old-fashioned card in the mail. I have quite a collection of cards from my multiple health issues. And many of them came from my blogging community.

I recently got a notice from WordPress: Happy 14th Anniversary! I have been blogging for 14 years. When I started, I had no idea what I was getting into. A writer friend was doing it, mostly to review books. So I tried it out. Found Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Challenge and through that community found Poetry Friday. I coordinate the Spiritual Thursday group and This Photo Wants to be a Poem.

All along the way I thought I was self-serving, getting my writing out in the world, craving comments and recognition. But something entirely unexpected and beautiful happened. I built a community of friends. Friends who see me, know me, care about me, and send me cards when I’m sick.

Today I celebrate You! You are a buoy, a gift of friendship, and my circle. Thanks for the comforting words, the beautiful cards, and especially for the thoughts and prayers. I am healing and taking each day step by step. I believe my experience will help me be a better friend to my widest of circles.

Cards left to right, top to bottom, from Connie Castille, Dani Burtsfield, Michelle Kogan, Linda Mitchell, Laura Shovan, and golden plant butterfly from Jan Annino.

(Message from Jan)

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between “green thread”
and “broccoli” you find
that you have penciled “sunlight”

Tony Hoagland in How to Love the World

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Spice of Life: The Artists

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , on September 5, 2023| 17 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

I often find that when I read poetry, I am inspired to write poetry. Yesterday I read the poems in August 28, 2023 issue of the The New Yorker. I loved Major Jackson’s poem The Nature of Memory. In this poem, he describes a happy memory using the specific names of his children. His final line grabbed me: “I hope they love themselves loud as that day,/ light-drunk, kicking up sand. I opened my notebook and poured out the story of Sunday afternoon as I observed my grandchildren Leo (4.5) and Stella (2.5), and their friend Nils, side-by-side creating their own art under the watchful yet permissive eye of my daughter. Did I ever allow such free art in my own children? I hope so.

Love Themselves Loud

I watch the side-by-side
play of toddlers. Leo like a turtle
crouched on the table laser-focused
drawing a rocket heading to earth, a round
blue and green ball. Stella paints her hands
pressing layers of color into a star of hands.
She moves

to her feet making them pink
like her beach shoes. Nils beside
her paints his hands and feet green–
his body a canvas for a green monster.

Later they come together
in toddler madness jumping from the top bunk.
“Only jump onto the bean bag.”
No one is injured before the game changes
to Lego building and pizza.

I hope they love themselves loud
as this day painting a landscape,
making their mark.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Spice of Life: These Hands

Posted in Gratitude, Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on August 1, 2023| 9 Comments »

Inspired by Denise Krebs at “Dare to Care”, I am writing a quick post on my phone at a coffee shop near the beach. Denise’s poem begins with These hands.

Miramar Beach, Florida

These hands

are waving to the pelican above the waves

trying to stay hydrated in this heat

trying to love in a way that is welcomed

wise and whole

These hands have held hard

and gotten softer

with age and lavender lotion.

These hands reach out

for help and receive it in gratitude

knowing that grace is found

when gifts are held

precious in these hands.

Margaret Simon, draft

Bird of paradise, photo by Margaret Simon

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Spice (Slice) of Life: A Handmade Journal

Posted in Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on July 25, 2023| 8 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

I have made so many true and talented friends in this world of blogging. In 2014, I met up with our Slice of Life bloggers for a face to face dinner at NCTE. There I met Melanie Meehan who bought a copy of my first ever middle grade novel Blessen and read it on her plane ride home. She wrote an email inviting me to join her writing group, and the rest is history, as they say. But Melanie is not in our group any more. (She is an active contributor to Two Writing Teachers.) Even though the writing group has changed faces, our bonds are strong. One of those 2014 members was Julie Burchstead. Julie and I have never met face to face. She lived in Vermont and then retired to Oregon, but we keep in touch through Facebook.

I kept seeing posts from Julie of beautiful handmade journals. I sent her a Direct Message, and she offered to make me one. (I did pay her.) The book is lovely, made of soft leather with a handmade butterfly button closure. vintage paper, spring flower binding, and 3 signatures of 98 lb. multi-media paper. (Yes, she wrote it all out on a notecard.) The braided thread wraps around and tucks into the button with a variety of beads, among them a silver bee and butterfly. She wrote, “May this journal always call your muse.”

So far I haven’t brought myself to scratch out a rough draft poem inside, but I am collecting quotes.

Thank you, Julie, for giving me something to comfort and inspire me.

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Slice of Life: Good Neighbors

Posted in Gratitude, Slice of Life, tagged , , , on July 18, 2023| 12 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

When I was a little girl, I remember walking door to door to show my neighbors my skinned knee from a bike accident. You may have called me a “Boo Boo Queen.” I lived in Mississippi in the 70’s. We knew our neighbors. They all had kids around our ages. We played outside, ran through the water of the creek, chased fireflies, and rode our bikes from house to house putting on plays. Those were the days, or do they still exist?

These last few weeks I’ve been the ultimate Boo-Boo Queen following a major surgery, a hysterectomy. Recovery has been slower than I was led to believe, not because of anything more serious than basic body plumbing. It amazes me how all of that digestive stuff, gut health is so important to healing.

This recovery, however, has had some bright spots in it as I take a daily walk on my street. I feel closer than ever to my neighbors. I have come to understand that you have to let people help you. I know there will be a time when I will need to return the favor, so when next door Theresa asked if she could do anything, I sent her to the vet to pick up Charlie’s meds. Of course, when she returned, we got in a nice visit.

James picks up penny nails on the road. Later he counted more than 70 of them.

Yesterday I was walking and spotted a number of penny nails on the road. Perhaps some working crew had dropped them. I knew I couldn’t bend over for any length of time and pick them up, so I texted Jen and asked for one of her boys to come out with a ziplock bag. A simple act of citizenship turned into a math lesson for 9 year old James, a zine lesson for 5 year old Jerry (we wrote a story together), and an inspiring conversation with their young parents. God bless them. They are here from Indiana helping Jen’s mother cope with her father’s illness. Before my surgery, I took the three boys to a splash pad for some summer fun. After, they showed up at my door with fresh picked cucumber and a cake James made “by himself.”

Summer salad: Cucumber, watermelon, basil, mint, feta cheese.

With another cucumber from the neighbor’s garden, my husband suggested a watermelon and cucumber salad with dinner. I haven’t been eating much, but this idea made my mouth water. I texted another neighbor, Ric, to see if he had some basil and mint in his wife’s garden. In the late afternoon, I took another walk (figuring out that two walks a day are better than one for my recovery) and stopped at Ric’s. I came home with basil, mint, parsley, and some left over tabouli that another neighbor had made for Ric.

The list could go on. I am so blessed to live near friendly people who care about me, watch over me, and feed me. Do you have kind neighbors that sustain you?

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Spice of Life: Eulogy for a Uterus

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , on July 11, 2023| 11 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

The title is not a typo. I saw Wilson yesterday. He had figs to offer. No better summer treat than fresh figs. And he thanked me for writing a “Spice of Life” about him last week. So I decided to make Slice of Life into Spice of Life in honor of his good mistake.

Two weeks ago today I had a hysterectomy. I’ve been amazed by the kindness of my circle. I’ve received flowers, cards, cakes, food, figs, and numerous other ways people have shown gratitude to me. There’s this interesting twist of things when one who is a caretaker becomes the cared for. I’ve had to loosen some control and let people help. I called my neighbor to pick up my dog’s meds at the vet. I allowed my daughter’s father-in-law to sweep my kitchen floor. It’s a weird space to be in. Needy. Grateful. Humble.

Last week, on the day of the surgery, I got an email writing prompt from The Fishbowl. Children’s author Kelly Bennet sends a 7 minute quick write each week. You can see the prompt here.

In my 7 minute writing response, I wrote a eulogy for my uterus. Each stanza is homage to each of my three daughters’ births.

Betty, Wilson’s wife, says I need to breathe in green gratitude to replace my uterus. I’m honestly not there yet. My body is still quite angry about the whole thing. Maybe next week, Betty? But I did, after a few critiques, take out the slaughtered pig reference.

My uterus was a vibrant thing
after Lucille Clifton

was an egg in a nest
of brambles and moss holding
a suckling embryo

was a vase for spring flowers
bursting forth in April
shouting to the sky

was a silk blanket
wrapped around the soul
of the wrongs of the world

did not walk out on me,
was taken for its uselessness
a holy sacrifice

I groan for all it’s grown
and known–
blessed womb. 

Margaret Simon, June 27, 2023

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Slice of Life: Meet Wilson

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , on July 4, 2023| 9 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Wilson goes to my church, lives in my neighborhood, and is the father of my gynecologist. He’s a retired engineer from the sugarcane industry. A few years ago he gave me a bleeding heart plant that he had cultivated. I thought it had frozen this winter (sadly due to my neglect to bring it in for the freeze), but it is flourishing back. It seems to love the heat. Nevertheless, Wilson won my heart through this small gesture.

A few weeks ago, I was out on a morning walk, so I stopped by his house. He had promised to show me around his yard-nursery. I was immediately taking photos with my phone. Look at this gorgeous lotus blossom in a tiered fountain.

photo by Margaret Simon

On a tour of Wilson’s backyard, he showed me a spot where he plants cuttings and plant pups. His wife Betty says, “These are his babies.” Then he showed me a young fig tree. He said it could be mine. The best time to plant them is in the fall, so I will be back to pick it up when the air turns cool.

The photo to the right is a grassy plant that produces little seeds called Job’s tears. Wilson picks the seeds and takes out the center which leaves a perfect hole for making beaded bracelets. I was honored to receive one of his bracelets.

Wilson makes beaded bracelets from multi-colored Job’s tears.

Wilson and Betty have transformed a backyard shed into a “winery” where Wilson experiments with different fruits for making wine. Betty said the hardest part is the waiting.

Wilson shines a flashlight and says, “This one’s close. Look at this color.”

Wilson reminds me that we should do the things we love. Grow and cultivate plants, make bracelets, create a new wine. Wilson has to be careful because of a back injury, but not long after his surgery, I saw him biking in the neighborhood. Keep moving. Be like Wilson.

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Slice of Life: So Many Stories Touch Me

Posted in Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , on June 27, 2023| 12 Comments »

I’m joining a wonderful community of teacher-writers at The Two Writing Teachers Blog.

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
― Maya Angelou

A week ago, I “came out” on social media about my mother’s Alzheimer’s disease. I started a fundraiser for the Alzheimer’s Association. I’ve been overwhelmed by the response. With more than 40 donations, I have surpassed the goal of $1600 symbolizing the 16 hours of daylight on June 21st. Feeling helpless to do anything to stop the progression for my mother, the stories coming from others have touched me deeply and helped me to feel part of a loving community.

In Facebook messenger, when I finally figured out that J was a high school friend whom I haven’t seen in 44 years, I sent her a thank you message. She responded.

Hi Margaret, I was happy to make a contribution. Lewy Body Dementia stole my husband from me (18 months ago). Praying for a cure for any form of dementia. Blessings to you as you navigate this world with your mom.

J from Facebook Messenger

It took me a while to figure out the website, but donors are able to leave me a message. This one came from Linda Baie, a blogger whom I’ve never met face to face but have known online for years.

My husband died from Parkinson’s Disease but he, and I, also had the long journey of the secondary part, Parkinson’s with Lewy Body Dementia, so like Alzheimer’s. I’ve often thought of it as a long goodbye. Best wishes to you, Margaret, and to the family in your sad journey.

Linda Baie

The donations have come from far and wide, close family members to writing friends and even from a former student. When you reach out, come out with the truth, you never know that there are many people in the ocean with life vests to offer, stories of their own struggles connected to yours.

If you have an experience with Alzheimer’s or something similar, please leave a comment telling me your own story. You can also reach out by email or messenger. Our stories are important and connect us.

My Fundraising page can be found here: http://act.alz.org/goto/honordotgibson

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Slice of Life: New Tenants

Posted in Slice of Life, tagged , , , on May 30, 2023| 8 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Wikimedia Commons Black-bellied whistling duck

If you have read my blog through the years, you may already know that we raise wood ducks. Actually, we have a wood duck house that has a Ring doorbell camera inside. In February and March of this year we watched a mother wood duck dutifully attend to a dozen eggs and successfully hatch 8 of them. We missed actually witnessing Jump Day because it was a school day. I even missed watching the little ducklings climbing out on my phone video because I was out at recess.

In the past we have had two clutches, one in March and another in May or June. But this year the duck house remained empty for weeks after the first mother left with her eight little ducklings. We waited.

Once again we have a tenant duck, but not a wood duck. It’s a Mexican squealer or black-bellied whistling duck. At first we were disappointed, but as the weeks have gone back, this weird orange-billed duck has won over our hearts. We’ve had to learn about this breed.

The first thing we noticed in the description were the not-so-favorable adjectives, words like “boisterous” and “gaudy”.

Fun Facts about Black-Bellied Whistling Ducks

  • Known as tree ducks because they hang out in trees.
  • “Sexual dimorphism”: both male and female look alike.
  • They form lifelong pair bonds. Both male and female tend to the hatchlings.
  • There are plenty of them, low-conservation concern.

Egg incubation is 25-30 days. I marked that the first night of sitting was on May 5th, so we should see hatching in the next week or so. The babies are colored like bumblebees, yellow and black feathering. Whether wood ducks or whistlers, our nest box continues to entertain us.

Inside the nest box, the whistling duck is taller than a wood duck and can look out the window.

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Slice of Life: Swallowtail Release

Posted in Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , on May 9, 2023| 6 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

On Sunday morning, I noticed the chrysalis on my back porch that I had nurtured was turning black. This could be a good sign or a bad sign. I found the swallowtail caterpillar in my friend’s garden when she was offering me two dill plants for my student’s butterfly garden project. I took the cactus it was hanging out on as well as some dill for feeding it.

When the little puffed up caterpillar made its chrysalis, he did it on the dill. Yikes, I knew the dill would die eventually because it was just in water. What actually happened was the dill stem bent down. No! The chrysalis must stay in the position it was made in.

Swallowtail chrysalis usually takes on the color of its environment. It can be green or brown.

I found a stick in my yard, placed it next to the dill stem with the chrysalis and tied then together with dental floss. I wasn’t sure it would work. This chrysalis traveled home in my car and sat on my back porch for another week. Until Sunday.

There he was, like a miracle, fully formed and on the just right day before the school week started again. I was able to take him to school, show him off to students in the hallway and with the gentle help of Avalyn, we released him into the wild.

My friend Mary who originally gave me the caterpillar is out of town tending to her brother Carlos. I named the butterfly Carlos and now he is roaming free somewhere in Coteau. We hope our newly planted butterfly garden nurtures him, but as with all wild things, we will never know.

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