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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
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Happy Poetry Friday! Please visit Margaret at Reflections on the Teche for this week's roundup!
So … this is embarrassing, but I feel like I can trust you people.
Sigh.
A few days ago, we were in a frantic dash to pack for an RV trip. The night before we left, I was at the grocery store at 9 PM, manically grabbing tomatoes, seltzer, and cashews (cuz what sane person would even try to camp without tomatoes, seltzer, and cashews?!). I veered my cart wildly through the empty aisles, occasionally glancing at my fistful of hand-scrawled lists that included:
- Grocery List,
- Packing List, and
- To Do List.
I skidded up to self-checkout and started flashing items in front of the scanner and tossing them into the bagging area. I had too much in my hands, so I set down my pile of lists on the shelf to the left of the register (along with my favorite mechanical pencil). I paid, loaded up my purchases, and dashed to the car. You probably see where this is headed.
I drove home, unloaded the groceries, and looked around for my stack of lists. Ut-oh. Not my favorite pencil too! Sigh. I called the grocery store, “Hey, sorry to bother you, but did you guys happen to notice a pile of papers and a pencil by one of the self-checkout registers?”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh, you’re the lady who wrote the rat poem?”
“I … uh … what?
Oh.
Yeah.” Dread swept over me.
Back up a couple years … when I had just started writing children’s poems for fun, I liked to print out my poems to edit them. At the time, I knew precious little about rhyme, meter, or poetry in general. Since that time, I have been using those old poems as scrap paper. I knew exactly which poem had ended up on the back of my grocery list. Ugh.
“So … you have my stuff?”
“Yup! We all thought it was interesting!”
Heavens to mergatroid! They all read it? It was on the back of a piece of paper … in a stack of papers! Nosy-bodies!!
“Ok, I will be back to get it. Where should I go?”
“It will be at the customer service desk.”
My husband walked into the kitchen unsuspectingly. He graciously offered to drive to the grocery store for me and get my belongings while I tried to piece together my packing list in my clearly subpar memory.
About a half hour later, he was back. He led with, “Do you know … at the grocery store, you are known as ‘The Rat Poem Lady’?”
“Yes, apparently.”
So, because you, dear reader, have stayed with me on this journey, I feel that I owe it you to share the rat poem that I thought would never be seen by another human being. Ahem:
Victoria Pratz
Victoria Pratz
gave birth in Big Flats
to thirteen ginormous, omnivorous rats.
She doted, indulged,
and protected from cats,
what turned out to be thirteen menacing brats.
Perhaps I should mention,
Victoria Pratz and her husband Bofratz,
are also rats.
There you have it. Yes, I know the meter is wonky and the whole poem is a just plain weird, yet somehow this is the poem that has gained me notoriety about town.
Feel free to call me by my new name, “The Rat Poem Lady,” or if you prefer my son’s variation, “Rat Queen.”
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- Written by: Tracey Kiff-Judson
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Oh, how we love our pets! This weekend, we are attending a wedding where the bride and groom have arranged for their canine fur-babies to participate in their wedding ceremony. I am so excited to be present for this joyful celebration!
We would do anything for our special animals. We whisper sweet nothings in their ears. We lavish them with toys and treats. Sometimes we may even write a poem about their antics. Whether it be compassion for canines, caring for kitties, or adoration of alpacas, we all share a some sense of connection with the animal world.
For all of you animal lovers, I am happy to have the opportunity to share some snippets from Bless Our Pets, a beautiful poetry anthology that will be released from Eerdmans Books for Young Readers in April.
The late Lee Bennett Hopkins, who edited this lovely anthology before his passing, selected a collection of heartwarming poems that pay tribute to some of our dearest animal friends.
Bless Our Pets begins with Ann Whitford Paul’s hope to earn the trust of a trembling kitten. Rebecca Kai Dotlich (Welcome to the Wonder House) weaves a wonderful poem about a chestnut-eyed puppy who sends messages of love without words.
The poems offer tribute after touching tribute to our animal companions. You will find loving poems to a goldfish, a parakeet, a rabbit, and many other furry (and not-so-furry) friends. Even a snake gets some love here!
Over a dozen notable poets offer praise to animals that have touched their hearts. I particularly enjoyed the poem “Box Turtle” by B. J. Lee, which begins:
Box Turtle
Helpless
little turtle
squirming on your back,
wriggling
polka-dotted legs,
tummy, hard shellac.
I place you
on all fours again,
hard dome beneath soft hand.
Your armored plates
so colorful –
your shell a wonderland…
The poem goes on to show that sometimes the best way to express our love for animals is to allow them the freedom they need.
The adorable illustrations by the incomparable Lita Judge capture the personalities of each of these beloved creatures. Lita’s whimsical paintings skillfully illustrate the bond between humans and their pets.
Check out this sweet baby:
Don’t you just want to scoop up that little guy and give him a hug?
This beautiful anthology closes with Lee Bennett Hopkins’s tribute “My Old Dog,” which brought more than a few tears to my eyes and reminded me of my lab, Sugar, who left for the great-field-of-tennis-balls-in-the-sky a few years ago. Both adults and children who love pets, poems, and adorable paintings (and that’s pretty much everyone, isn’t it?!) will love this gentle anthology.
For the Poetry Friday roundup, please visit the charming Carol Varsalona for some Valentine's love at Beyond LiteracyLink.
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I hope you have a wonderful Poetry Friday! Please visit Mary Lee at A(nother) Year of Reading for this week's roundup. She (and all of the Inklings) have secrets to share with us!
A few weeks ago, Molly Hogan commented on my "Monopoly" post that she found a Monopoly token between the floorboards of her old house. I thought that had amazing potential for a story, and it got me thinking … we, too, live in a house that wasn’t built in this century. This old house was built in the 1880’s. Old houses have seen so much through the decades: secrets, laughter, heartbreak. So much has happened within these walls, and I only know my slice of time, not what comes before or what will come after.
It seems that wallpaper is one tiny scrap of history that gives us an idea what life might have been like in another time. When we first moved in, we stripped layers and layers of wallpaper in this house. Some were pretty (and some were pretty ugly), but someone loved them enough to cover an entire room with them. I saved scraps as we peeled away layers of history, and I thought it might be fun to pull them out and look at them now that we have lived in this house for a couple of decades.
So, as you can see, this house had a lot to say about the people who lived here, and the “clothes” that it wore on its walls over the years.
I found this poem that seemed apropos:
Old Houses
By Robert Cording
Year after year after year
I have come to love slowly
how old houses hold themselves—
before November’s drizzled rain
or the refreshing light of June—
as if they have all come to agree
that, in time, the days are no longer
a matter of suffering or rejoicing.
You may read the rest here if you like!
Thank you for touring our house’s wallpaper history with me!
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Happy Poetry Friday!
This week, we are hosted by Susan Thomsen. Please visit Susan at Chicken Spaghetti for a poem about Año Nuevo and a beautiful tradition.
Recently, I have enjoyed time outdoors in the snowy woods of Connecticut. I couldn’t help but admire at the beauty of nature, but also the human touch that appeared in some of these excursions.
During the first significant snowfall of the year, my husband, my dog, and I went sledding. We tried to convince some neighborhood kids to come with us to make it look like we had a reason to be there, but there were none to be found. We did not let that deter us.
Admittedly, my steering attempts are futile. I'll just say, the hill is a lot steeper than it looks in the video!
The next day, we took at hike at a local park. Although, it was an overcast day, nature offered beauty amidst the dreariness.
Here the human influence sneaks in, but hopefully in a way that makes you smile.
The next day was sunny, and I couldn’t resist one more trip back to see the snow and ice drops reflecting the sunshine.
The pictures from the overcast day led me to the following poem:
Winter Woods
By Eleanor Hammond
The winter wood is like a strong old man,
Grizzled, rugged, and gray,
With long white locks tattered by many storms.
He lifts gnarled arms defiant of the blasts,
And rears his old head proudly
Under the menace of the winter sky.
Source: Eleanor Hammond. "Winter Woods." Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/winter-woods-by-eleanor-hammond
My hope is that wherever you are, whatever season it is, that you are able to breathe fresh air and spend some time surrounded by nature.
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Welcome to Poetry Friday!
I am excited to see what this week holds! The talented and amazing Robyn Hood Black is hosting at Life on the Deckle Edge.
This week, just a small tribute to our discarded Christmas tree.
Dear Christmas Tree
I’m sorry, dear tree,
to leave you this way,
lying outside
on this cold winter day.
We loved you, adorned you,
with lights and with bows.
You gave all you had,
you were great, heaven knows!
You held on so long,
at times through a drought.
We missed giving water;
your needles fell out.
Now you lie waiting
for trash pick-up day.
I’m sorry, so sorry,
to leave you this way.
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Welcome to Poetry Friday! What is Poetry Friday, you ask? Click here for Renee LaTulippe’s synopsis of how it all works. To join the round up, please post your link below.
I recently acquired an old Monopoly game. I sorted through the pieces and everything seemed to be there (except the rules of play). The box specified that the game includes eight tokens, but oddly, this box contained ten.
I am unsure which pieces did not belong:
- Top hat * +
- Dog (Scottish Terrier) +
- Race Car +
- Cannon *
- Boot *
- Person on horseback
- Iron *
- Wheelbarrow
- Battleship * +
- Thimble * +
* The six original Monopoly pieces in 1935.
+ The current Monopoly tokens list for current-edition games (plus: Cat, Penguin, Rubber Ducky)
After a poking around the internet (see here), I learned that many Monopoly pieces have come and gone over the years. Some interesting tidbits:
- Over the years, the composition of the pieces changed. Pieces were made of Zamac (zinc alloy), a lead and tin mixture, paper and sawdust composite, and wood.
- During WWII, wooden pieces were introduced so that the metal could be used for the war effort.
- After the 1970’s the pieces shrank in size.
- In 1998, a vote was held to choose a new piece from among: Sack of Money, Piggy Bank, or Bi-plane. The Sack of Money won.
- In 2013, the Iron was retired, and the Cat replaced it after a vote among: Cat, Diamond Ring, Toy Robot, Helicopter, and Guitar.
- In 2017, the Penguin, T-Rex, and Rubber Ducky replaced the Thimble, Wheelbarrow, and Boot.
- In 2022, several pieces came out of retirement, and several relatively new pieces were retired.
Here is a comprehensive list of token comings and goings from this article:
|
Token |
Introduced |
Retired |
|
Cannon |
Early 1935 |
1946 |
|
Iron |
Early 1935 |
2013 |
|
Thimble |
Early 1935 |
2017 |
|
Thimble (comeback) |
2022 |
Current |
|
Boot |
Early 1935 |
2017 |
|
Top Hat |
Early 1935 |
Current |
|
Battleship |
Early 1935 |
Current |
|
Race Car |
Mid 1935 |
Current |
|
Purse |
Late 1935 |
1950 |
|
Lantern |
1936 |
1950 |
|
Rocking Horse |
1936 |
1950 |
|
Horse and Rider |
1940 |
2007 |
|
Wheelbarrow |
1940 |
2017 |
|
Scottie Dog |
1940 |
Current |
|
Howitzer |
1946 |
2007 |
|
Money Bag |
1998 |
2007 |
|
Cat (Hazel) |
2013 |
Current |
|
T-Rex |
2017 |
2022 |
|
Penguin |
2017 |
Current |
|
Rubber Ducky |
2017 |
Current |
Although I am not a particular fan of the game of Monopoly (I need more patience), I do find the tokens intriguing!
What do the changes in pieces say about what was happening in our society at the time?
I can see why the Iron and Thimble were retired because of the “domestic” feel associated with them, but what of the Thimble’s comeback in 2022? Perhaps COVID-19 inspired us to become craftier?
For the pieces that have endured – is there something about those pieces that speaks to us on a fundamental level? The long-timers like the Top Hat, Thimble, Dog, and Race Car are truly part of the "American persona." Conversely, we decided it was time to set aside the Iron, Cannon, and Howitzer. I can get behind those decisions. The Boot, Wheelbarrow, Purse, and Money Bag all had long runs, but the T-Rex was gone in a flash.
So … do you think that selecting a certain piece says something of our personality? Here are my (unofficial) personality profiles for the current pieces:
- Top Hat – formal, proper, organized, concerned with appearance
- Race Car – competitive, sporty, James Bond type
- Battleship – serious, super competitive, ready to take on anything or anyone
- Thimble – domestic, crafty (with whiff of shyness perhaps?)
- Dog (Scottish Terrier) – loyal, fun loving, up for anything, spunky, a little naughty
- Cat – independent, but willing to cuddle
- Penguin – concerned with the environment, doesn’t mind the cold
- Rubber Ducky – wacky, fun-loving, perhaps a bit immature, a child at heart
If I had to choose: Dog, Rubber Ducky, or Penguin would be my top three. (You always need a backup in case you don’t get your first choice.) What about you? Do you have a favorite? Do you think there is any correlation between the piece a person chooses and their personality?
And now, a small tribute to the Thimble:
Thimble
Dimpled elf hat,
protector of fingers,
epitome of domesticity!
By day,
you shield against needles
deflecting stabs
in the war of stitches.
At night,
you retire to your
sewing-box sanctuary,
nestled among
scraps of fabric.
© Tracey Kiff-Judson, draft 2024
Thank you for joining me in my Monopoly-token ponderings. Please share your link below!
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Yay! Poetry Friday has arrived and COVID has left the house! Please visit the brilliant
Marcie Flinchum Atkins for this week’s Poetry Friday round up. Thank you for hosting, Marcie!
Getting here was a long, hard battle. Please allow me to elaborate …
Just before the holidays, The Green Goblin of COVID surfed in on a wave of phlegm.
I immediately enlisted Sir Paxlovid, who I thought would be my knight in shining armor. He fought a good fight. For five days and nights, Sir Paxlovid went head-to-head with The Green Goblin. A fierce battle raged! The Green Goblin descended from my head to my throat to my lungs, burrowing deeper and finding refuge in the caverns of my internals. Sir Paxlovid swung his antiviral sword and cut off The Green Goblin’s relentless advances. On day six, Sir Paxlovid declared victory! We embraced, and Sir Paxlovid left for his next conquest. All was well in Traceyland.
On day nine, The Green Goblin crept out of his hiding place and started poking around, testing to see if Sir Paxlovid had truly abandoned Traceyland. My head began to throb. My throat began to ache. On day ten, I inquired of the Wiseman Noseswab if indeed the expulsion was complete. He assured me that, despite the signs, there was not a trace of the goblin in Traceyland.
Yet … the feelings intensified. My four top advisors, Ms. Head, Master Throat, and the Lung Sisters, told me that something was amiss. On day thirteen, I called Wiseman Noseswab back and demanded that he gaze into his crystal dropper again and tell me the truth of the matter. He hemmed and hawed for fifteen minutes before admitting that indeed, The Green Goblin was back and running rampant throughout Traceyland once more.
With Sir Paxlovid long gone, I knew that I would need to fight this battle the old-fashioned way. I drank the secret potion – Plenty of Fluids. I read poetry gifted to me by the fair maiden Jone Rush of MacCulloch. A wise, friendly healer delivered an ancient remedy, Homemade Chicken Soup*, which I slurped down. I soaked in a steaming tub of … bathwater. This battle raged for three drippy days and three restless nights until … I woke up yesterday morning, feeling fine. Ha! I had slain The Green Goblin in my sleep!
Today, I need to find that unreliable Wiseman Noseswab and ask him to confirm that we’ve eradicated the goblin, but I already know what he is going to say.
* This wasn’t just any chicken soup. My healer-friend added a secret ingredient (a dash of Thai Chili Sauce), and she cut the carrots into tiny heart shapes! XOXO, Kim!
And now, to go with the chicken soup … a poem about saltines!
Saltine
By Michale McFee
How well its square
fit my palm, my mouth,
a toasty wafer slipped
onto the sick tongue
or into chicken soup,
each crisp saltine a tile
pierced with 13 holes
in rows of 3 and 2,
its edges perforated
like a postage stamp,
… to read the rest just click!
Wishing everyone a healthy, story-filled new year!
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It’s the time of the year when giving takes center stage. But … receiving can also be magical, especially when you know that someone put a bit of themselves into a gift for you. I am honored to have received several lovely gifts from Jone Rush MacCulloch through our Poetry Friday exchange. Please allow me to share with you some of the beauty that Jone sent my way.
First, I love the gorgeous photo on Jone’s card. Her note was so thoughtful and kind!
Despite claiming that wrapping is not her jam, Jone added lots of festive touches to her gifts!
Many delights awaited under that beautiful wrapping job!
A mini gnome – in tribute to my Gnome post several months ago, but this gnome came bearing brown-butter-cardamom-pecan chocolate! Yum!
A 2024 Calendar featuring Jone’s artwork, haiku, and photography. Truly inspirational!
A beautiful forest-scene collage with stunning pines atop a page from her grandmother’s journal! I simply adore this.
A river photo with that cool hagstone in the middle, taken at Wildwood Recreation Area, and a golden shovel poem overlaid (the end words form a line from my gnome poem!). Note: this is also a magnet.
The river calls ~ water poppling ~ while
sunlit creases dance between trees. Walking
along the path, I feel the apricity on
my back as psithurism clams my heart. A
chittering of juncos flit about the woodland.
Dream time on the trail.
© jone rush macculloch
Oh, to see a chittering of juncos!
Lastly, Jone shared with me a book of poetry by her friend Paulann Peterson, a former Oregon Poet Laureate. Paulann’s poem “Lake” reminded me of the many lakes I love!
I am presently sick with COVID (somehow, I managed to avoid it for four years and was getting overconfident, I guess!). Jone’s gifts have helped me pass the time with lovely poetry and peaceful thoughts.
Thank you so much for your kindness, Jone! XOXO
I feel honored to have you as my new friend!
Jone is also our gracious Poetry Friday host this week. Please visit her at Jone Rush MacCulloch for more Poetry Friday gifts!
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Happy Poetry Friday!
Please visit our host, Janice Scully, at Salt City Verse for some holiday spirit! She’s decorated her tree and baked up some fresh stollen.
A quick shout out to Michelle Kogan for her suggestion to try out Zentangle poems with the pages of some old books that I recently acquired. What a blast! I loved this experiment. If you have any old books lying around, I highly recommend it.
Here are three that I created, with varying degrees of success. Let me know what you think!
Mice
make everyone
happier.
Grateful
for everything.
Well, maybe not everyone and maybe not grateful. Ok, trying again!
Wings
smooth as
sheets of polished sliver,
he was flying
in heaven.
Happy landings.
Ok, one more go ...
For a long time
with eyes tightly shut,
he remembered
everybody --
thousands and thousands.
You are
one in a million.