canine companion
consummate conspirator
can’t confess in court
#AtoZChallenge: 26 posts in April, topics to proceed alphabetically. Creating a theme for one’s blog challenge is optional. My theme for 2021: a three line alliteration each day (5-7-5, haiku-ish) with the first letter of each line the same as the letter of the day.
big bullies, beware!
burgeoning bodybuilder
bares baby biceps
#AtoZChallenge: 26 posts in April, topics to proceed alphabetically. Creating a theme for one’s blog challenge is optional. My theme for 2021: a three line alliteration each day (5-7-5, haiku-ish) with the first letter of each line the same as the letter of the day.
apples are adept
at alighting alongside
anchored ancestors
#AtoZChallenge: 26 posts in April, topics to proceed alphabetically. Creating a theme for one’s blog challenge is optional. My theme for 2021: a three line alliteration each day (5-7-5, but not necessarily a haiku) with the first letter of each line the same as the letter of the day.
They are blooming now, the cherry blossoms. I see them on FaceBook and Istagram. I know they are across the river in city parks, and up the road six or seven miles in the neighborhood where I used to live.
But here in COVID times, I do not find myself across the river or up the road much. Not to worry, though. In my own back yard, however briefly they can withstand the March rains and wind, my flowering quince regale me with their fleeting blossoms.
Don’t blink! They fade fast.
yesterday’s blossoms become
today’s confetti
April is always a challenging month on this blog. I am of course referring to the blogging/poetry challenges that take place this time of year.
For 2021, I’m participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge, where one commits to 26 posts in April (every day except Sundays) with daily topics A to Z as the month progresses. Specific theme optional.
I participated in this challenge in 2016 and 2017, then skipped three years to do the NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) challenge. But I’m back!
My theme: as I did in 2017, I will post a 5-7-5 alliterative poem each day (a poem in the form of three lines with corresponding syllables per line of 5, 7 and 5). Not a bona fide haiku, just a similar syllabic sentiment.
I will be the angel of alliteration, the beacon of brevity, the clutterer of clarity, the de– … well, you get the idea. If you want to see how that played out in 2017 you can read those posts beginning here.
Anybody can participate in this challenge. How about you? Are you game?
The self-proclaimed matriarch deigned to hold sway
though the mothers before her had not yet passed away.
A whitewater rapid propelled toward the sea,
A true force of nature, one might (quietly) say.
The matriarch’s offspring like eddies were spun.
In fast-swirling waters to slick boulders they clung.
Two generations deeper the river was carved.
“A true tour de force!” might have (loudly) been sung.
The matriarch lived a great-grandchild to see.
Still white-capped, less rapid, still bound for the sea.
A force to be reckoned with up to her last breath,
then the matriarch’s mantle was passed down to me.
My waters run smoother, though the currents run strong,
and the offspring of offspring with my blessings flow on.
As to my own reckoning, may I kindly be seen
as a force (mostly) for good, when the mantle moves on.
where have they gone?
why were they here?
when did they leave, or
do they linger near?
what were they seeking,
or did they come to show?
who did they encounter
before they had to go?
I search heavenward, perhaps
some day to know.
I was looking back on previous posts on this site, and came across the horrendous photos I’d shared a few years ago of my rotting deck. Well, the photos weren’t really horrendous, I guess; the deck was.
I had written about how I could drive a pitchfork through the deck boards, how I wanted to coax another season out of the rotting boards by removing the most dangerous ones, and repainting the remainder with the decade-old sealer that I had stored from the last time I had done any work on the deck. And then the sealer had mostly washed away in an unexpected rain squall that came through just minutes after completing the paint job.
Well, I’m happy to report that this past summer, I actually replaced the deck!
Ripping up the old deck was every bit as fulfilling as I had expected. Demolition is fun when it’s intentional! The deck boards had been nailed to humongous creosote-soaked beams 12 feet long and with a diameter of 36 inches. Seven of them. Six and a half, actually, since I had already removed half of one beam that had rotted clear through.
The hardest part was moving those beams out of the way, which I managed a few tedious inches at a time with a shovel and some boards to slide them on. Then I set about constructing my new deck.
The new deck is half the size of the old one. I built it using a plan I found online. It’s nothing fancy, just a 12’ x 12’ square. This spring or summer I will seal it (with new sealer, not something that’s been sitting around for years – gotta protect my investment).
I can’t wait to spend time on my new deck once the weather moderates. And I can’t describe how immensely satisfying it is to look out my window and see my own handiwork rather than the dilapidated structure it replaces. Simple pleasures, I guess.
I’m still working out what to do with the old beams. I might use them to replace other creosote-laden railroad ties that were used around the property as retaining walls. My next big project, perhaps. A few inches at a time.
