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Slice of Life Challenge Day 29: This Photo

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Progressive poem, Slice of Life, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , on March 29, 2023| 26 Comments »

Rainbow Promise

On wooded trails,
under the wild strawberry
a fresh fern unfurls,
new leaves replace old
heartshapes of gold,
a forest in rebirth.

Margaret Simon, draft
Rainbow collage collection, Lake Fausse Pointe trail photo by Margaret Simon

On a recent yoga Women’s Wellness Retreat, I collected things as I walked a forest trail. The instructor suggested collecting a rainbow. My collection includes an unripe blackberry, a piece of dead wood, a fiddlehead fern, a few wildflowers and leaves. When we stopped for a short break, I arranged them into something that pleased me and took this photo. I left most of it in the forest where I found it. I kept the heart-shaped leaf, fern fiddlehead, and the purple wildflower to press and tape into my notebook. We poets are pretty good at assigning symbolism to things. If this collage arrangement speaks to you in some way, write a small poem in the comments. Be sure to support other writers with comments as well.

I am planning a National Poetry Month project, but This Photo Wants to be a Poem will continue to be part of it. Consider adding this practice to your own NPM project. Follow my blog to get updates in your inbox. If you teach, you can use this prompt with students. Please share students’ poems as well.

I will also be posting links each day to the Kidlit Progressive Poem. I’m excited for April, my favorite month of the year.

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Slice of Life Challenge Day 28: Country Road

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , on March 28, 2023| 7 Comments »

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

Most days I take the slow, country road route from one school to the other rather than getting on the mad highway. I pass the underpass round-about that has been in some stage of construction all year long. Drive beyond the road where I need to turn because due to said construction, it’s been blocked. Make a u-turn and swing by the corner gas station (sometimes I stop for a Subway salad), and turn right into a grove of trees that transports me to a peaceful country road.

Yesterday there was no one on the road, no one following me, so I stopped at each icon to take a picture. Take a deep breath. Let it out slowly and enjoy the slow ride.

The white cows have been birthing babies. I’ve watched as their herd has grown, how the mothers all tend to the little ones, and how they cluster together like kids out at recess.

The old red barn stands a little crooked, but someone cuts the grass. I secretly wish they would let the wild flowers grow. She seems lonely and old, yet independent and wise. I look her way and smile, resisting the urge to give her a name and throw my hand out of the window and wave.

The horses run and frolic in the fresh spring air. They are frisky and shy, moving quickly away from my presence.

Take a right at the white church. Saint’s truck has been there for weeks doing repairs. I honk and wave to him. He recognizes my car. I hear his familiar laugh as I drive away. This old church is our safe spot for our school’s evacuation. We’ve never had to walk here along the fields of sugarcane, but they will be ready for us if there ever is a need. Praying there is never a need.

Today as I drive this road again, I will be mourning the loss of another school shooting, saying to God “Why?”

My life is a blessing. All lives are precious and should be adored. Prayers help me, the supplicator, but until there is real change, gun control action, my prayers will be futile. When will this madness ever end?

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Slice of Life: Some Days are Like That…

Posted in Slice of Life, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged , , , on March 27, 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.

“Some days are like that…even in Australia” were the wise words of the mother to Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. It’s good advice. This mother empathizes and reassures Alexander that life will go on and tomorrow will be better.

This message in my inbox this morning:

Type Four EnneaThought®

What would happen if you stopped trying to understand yourself today? Would your world fall apart? 

This morning is a new day, and I’m not feeling as sad or overwhelmed. I won’t chew on my heartstrings all day today. I have children to teach. This is what I am telling myself anyway.

Grief is a weird thing. We all have it in our backpacks that we carry through our lives. Sometimes, it stays back there, weighing little to nothing. You think you’ll be fine. Hey, look what I am carrying with little or no effort. Aren’t I the strong one?

Then someone hugs you, touches your shoulder, gives you that look of empathy, and you crumble. Yesterday our choir master was back at church after a few months away. His mother had been diagnosed with end stage cancer and after she died, his father willed himself to follow her. They had been married over 70 years. This is not my story to tell, but it may give some context for why my own grief hit me hard yesterday. I was overjoyed to see him, but as soon as I hugged him, the tears welled up.

I wanted to understand these feelings. It was Sunday and all the while I did my Sunday chores, yard work, laundry, and so on, I wanted to understand and the more I tried to understand, the more I cried.

Today is a new day. I am breathing. I have a plate full of things to do. I will be OK.

Without even knowing what was going on with me, my friend texted me this affirmation:

I offered my best self today.
It doesn’t matter if I did everything perfectly.
The day is now past and I will let it be.
I am looking forward to the morning.
I have the power to make tomorrow a great day.
I will feed my strength with sleep.
Tomorrow I will grow further.

Source unknown

Today is a new day, a new week, and I don’t have to understand myself.

My hand gathering strength from a tree, Women’s Wellness Retreat, Lake Fausse Pointe

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Slice of Life Challenge Day 26: Women’s Wellness Retreat

Posted in Gratitude, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged , , , , , on March 26, 2023| 16 Comments »

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

On my list of priorities, self-care often takes a backseat to family care. When the opportunity came up to attend a weekend at a nearby campground for an all women’s wellness retreat led by yoga instructors, I didn’t grab the opportunity. I texted Susan on the final call and signed up just for Saturday and only if I could find a friend to ride with. Then last week when my daughter told me she was taking her kids to the zoo in New Orleans “Surely you don’t want to miss a day with your grandchildren!” I sent another text. “Something has come up with my family. Can you find a replacement?” I was, as they say around here “Crawfishing my way out.”

On Thursday when I stayed home with some vertigo symptoms and took a Covid test convinced I would have a medical excuse to do none of it, I tested negative and my husband urged me to go on the retreat. “You deserve this.”

Here is a photo walk through the woods with 20 women tuning ourselves to the sounds and peace of nature. Mother earth was speaking, “Come home. Come home.”

Rewild Yourself

Inhale
Exhale
Tree hold me
balanced
calm
restored
to my
purpose

Margaret Simon

After a yoga flow session we headed into the forest for a “forest bath”. The instructor Tiffanie encouraged us to find a rainbow in nature. Green was all around. Not to mention poison ivy and signs warning of cottonmouth snakes. I powered through. I chose my colors from fiddle head fern to an unripe red blackberry. My favorite find was the orange heart-shaped leaf which I have pressed into my journal to remind me to love myself.

Nature struggles
each day–
a yellow leaf
dies
falls
feeds
the earth
into rebirth.
I find myself
behind all the others
holding on
to this solace
this song.

Margaret Simon

Our lunch was all vegan with a detox salad, sweet potatoes, and a lentil and rice dish I forgot the name of. Susan had soaked chia seeds in oat milk for a pudding-like dessert. We were all asking for recipes. I relaxed and rested and made new friends. At the end of the day, Susan washed us in a sound bath. I held one of her singing bowls. It felt heavy at first, but as I relaxed and let go, the bowl became lighter and part of me. I realized that burdens may seem heavy for a while, but they eventually become easier to hold and part of the well-loved person we are.

*For information on Susan and her sound bath therapy, go to Bayou Lotus Studio.

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Slice of Life Challenge+Poetry Friday: Piles and Trees of Good Things and One Pile of Peeves

Posted in Digital Learning, Gifted Education, Poetry Friday, Progressive poem, Writing, tagged , , on March 24, 2023| 29 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Rose Cappelli has the round up today at Imagine the Possibilities

Earlier this week I posted my Pile of Good Things Poem prompted by Stefanie Boutelier at Ethical ELA. Stef encouraged us to use technology and shared a design she made in Canva. I shared the prompt with my students on Monday. My little ones in 1st and 2nd could put together this idea for a poem. I am amazed at how easily they use technology at such an early age. Second grader James turned his pile into the shape of a tree.

I’ve been thinking about my pile of not so good things lately. You might say it’s a gripe poem, a pile of pet peeves.

My Pile of Peeves

Scent of cat pee
Anxiety at 3 AM
Morning cafeteria duty
When I’ve lost something
Hitting Send before proofing
A colleague diagnosed with cancer
An unconsolable child weeping over a mistake
The sound of my alarm when I’m actually sleeping
In carpool line, putting a student back into a toxic environment
The big white truck with extra tires passing me to make a right turn from the left lane.

Margaret Simon, ongoing draft depends upon the day

The Kidlit Progressive Poem schedule for April is full. You can copy and paste the code found on this post. Contact me by email if you have any questions.

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Slice of Life Challenge Day 23: The Chip of an Idiom

Posted in Writing on March 23, 2023| 5 Comments »

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

At Ethical ELA this week I wrote poems alongside other teacher-writers in the monthly Open Write. Yesterday the prompt came from Denise Hill. She asked us to use an idiom or metaphor in a mixed up way.

My cousin was in town last week participating in a Plein Air (Art) competition. His picture did not get into our local paper, so I texted him, “Sorry, you are not famous…yet!” And he responded, “Best to keep that chip on my shoulder.” So that is what drove my poem.

Chips

There are good chips
and bad chips,
chips that crunch or
chips that splinter your shoulder
making sure
you don’t
get a big head
and fall over.
Keep that chip steady and balanced.
A moment of fame
won’t feed the flame
that drives you forward.

Margaret Simon, draft
Daily Iberian

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Slice of Life Challenge Day 19: A Pile of Good Things

Posted in being mamére, Creativity, Gratitude, Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , , on March 19, 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.
Art by Leo, left, and Stella, right from “Let’s Make Art” activity at the Hilliard Museum.

On the campus of ULL (University of Louisiana at Lafayette) there is a beautiful museum, The Hilliard. Saturday they held a drop in art activity for kids 4 and up. I showed up with Leo, 4, and Stella, 2, and they were the only children there. They had the full attention of the artist instructor.

I was amazed by the focus of both kids on this activity. From the flyers on the table, I realized it was meant to be a quilting activity. There were shapes cut out of various papers. However, Leo immediately grabbed the scissors and started cutting the shapes to his liking and building a 3 dimensional motorcycle. I glued it down for him on the white “quilt piece,” and he continued to add to it a winner’s banner and a man riding (notice the skinny yellow strip sitting on the motorcycle.)

Stella was happy enough to glue and glue and glue. The artist taught her how to put the glue on the back and turn the paper over and press it down. We were also able to freely roam the current art exhibits. It was a great way to spend a rainy cold Saturday morning.

Today, at Ethical ELA Open Write, Stefanie Boutelier is teaching us how to use technology in poetry with a wonderful prompt and model poem “A Pile of Good Things”. You should follow the link and see what it’s all about. Here is my pile:

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Proud Fisherman

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Slice of Life, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , on March 15, 2023| 33 Comments »

Delcambre (pronounced Del-comb) is about 20 minutes south of New Iberia. On Sunday evening, we attended a fundraising dinner for the seafood market. I even ate a piece of fried alligator which tasted a lot like fried chicken. We were there to support my cousin Andrew as he participates in a plein air (painting outside) competition. There will be more posts about this later.

Today I want to introduce you to Markavian. I don’t know him, and I’m not sure that’s how to spell his name, but when I took his picture, he proudly told me what his name was. He was beaming from having caught a huge catfish right off the dock. I asked permission to take his picture. There is so much that I love about this picture. His smile. The largest catfish I’ve ever seen. And how it captures the attitude of a fisherman. My husband says that our newspaper’s sports section is usually just men holding fish. It’s true fishing is a big time sport around here. Perhaps Markavian was competing with his brothers. There seemed to be a family in the background, and I caught him just as he was about to go show off his catch of the day.

Catch of the Day, photo by Margaret Simon

Yesterday was Pi Day, so my students and I wrote Pi-Ku, which is a small poem based on the number 3.14. Please leave your own small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your responses.

Catch of the Day

Boy’s pride smile
caught
largest catfish

Margaret Simon, pi-ku draft
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

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Slice of Life Challenge Day 12: Handprint Painting

Posted in Creativity, Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , , on March 12, 2023| 5 Comments »

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

I read Beautiful Hands to my youngest students, 1st-3rd grade. The question “What will your beautiful hands do today?” is the theme of this short and inspiring book by Kathryn Otoshi and Bret Baumgarten.

The story of this book is both sad and joyful. From a Bookology article by Nancy Bo Flood:

Beautiful Hands was done for Bret Baumgarten, who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. When we found out, it was at stage 4. It was heartbreaking. He and I both wanted to do a book for his children, Noah and Sofie. I found out every day he would hold his kids’ hands in his and ask them, “What will your beautiful hands do today?”

I wanted everyone whom Bret loved to be in this book. We arranged for his family and friends (mine too!) to make handprints as part of the illustrations in the book, so that they could participate and be a part of this narrative. Over 100 people’s handprints are in the rainbow at the end of the story. So many people loved Bret, we didn’t know where to put our grief. The book became a positive way to remember the message he wanted to impart most: love, creativity, compassion, and our connection with one another.

Kathryn Otoshi

With my youngest students, we practiced using acrylic paints.

1. You must put on a t-shirt to avoid stains on your clothes. (I provide old t-shirts.)

2. Mrs. Simon will squirt the paint. It comes out fast and can splatter.

3. We only have primary colors, so how do we make other colors?

4. Which illustration do you want to make?

5. You can only use hands, no paintbrushes. We used the paintbrushes to apply the paint to their hands.

Here are some samples of final works of art.

Butterfly, lily pad, and rose by James, 2nd grade
Sunflower by Carson, 1st grade

My Painting

by Carson

Sunflowers bloom.
My heart booms!

Clouds float in the air.
My hands show that I care. 

Carson is brand new to poetry writing. He gets very nervous about it, so we have to use some breathing techniques while I prompt him with sentence stems. We worked on making lists of rhyming words. He wrote “Clouds float in the air” with little prompting. And selected the word care from our list of rhyming words. All I said was, “Look at your hands in your painting. My hands…?”

“Show that I care!” shouted Carson. We celebrated with a high five and a glowing smile. When I typed it and let him tape it to his artwork, he was as proud as Vashti from Peter Reynold’s book, The Dot. ( If you don’t know about Vashti yet, you must go Google The Dot right now.)

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Slice of Life Challenge Day 11: Can you spell Onomatopoeia?

Posted in Writing on March 11, 2023| 15 Comments »

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

Who knows how to spell onomatopoeia?

This started an impromptu game of hang man. Poetry Friday is a staple of my classroom. This week, Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s Poems are Teachers helped with my lesson. As I read the model poem by Kate Coombs “Garbage Truck”, the students listened for the onomatopoeia. I think we found 17 onomatopoetic words. (I secretly fell in love with the word onomatopoetic.)

Poetry Friday is usually a fun day, but Ben crumpled when he couldn’t identify the t-sound during hangman. He insisted it was an N. And Elizabeth was crying because she didn’t get a chocolate cupcake at recess. All that was left were vanilla ones. Alice chose to write behind a curtain in a cubby hole in the back of the room. Hiding helps her focus. So even though they all eventually recovered, my classroom is like everyone’s classroom, filled with complicated kids.

Once we got over the Can-you-spell-onomatopoeia hurdle, some poems were written. Joy is found in poetry.

Onomatopoeia

Onomatopoeia you say,

the cars buzzing,

the chirping, 

the beeping

the boom,

the flock.

The warning

that I haven’t closed 

my fridge,

my alarm in 

the 

morning.

Avalyn, 3rd grade
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Bernard the frog came to visit and rested in a nest while we wrote poems.


My Classroom

The singing of Sadie, “La La Laaaa!”
Mrs. Simon sneezing who knows how many times, “Achoo, achoo, achoo, achoo!”
The sounds of kids playing, “Ahh! Haha!”
The sound of a pen, “Ch, ch, ch”
Water and zen, “Slish, slosh”
Doors opening and slamming shut, “Badumph!”
And the sound of new poems being made, “Scribble scribble”
Nothing is more calming than sitting in a cubby and writing all my thoughts and dreams!


Adelyn, 4th grade
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