“Luney” Literati: Responses to Drama Wednesday, Oct 19 2016 

I’ve posted lunes before (lune–a simple tercet form of poem).  The following set of lunes are creative responses to six dramatic plays enacting familiar short stories often taught in school.  We attended this performance yesterday at UL-Lafayette.  To the reader of trivial pursuits, see if you can identify the story that inspired each lune.


Students followed this set of instructions for the assignment.


A midnight dreary–
Dirty bird.
Nevermore, Lenore!


You think me mad? No!
But the heart
Tells its sordid tale.


Poor Ichabod Crane–
Lost his squeeze,
Scared plum poo-poo-less.


The monkey’s paw–
My mind took a break.
Couldn’t focus well.


Mathilde, t’es folle!
T’as gaspie’ tout.
Et pour quoi?  A rien!


A Twain tale so tall:
Make a bet,
Hyperbolic frog.

Running to live, living to run? Wednesday, Oct 12 2016 

I remember the first time we ran the mile in high school P.E.  We thought we were going to die!  As I recall, I ran somewhere in the 7 minute range and thought that was slow.  I wish I could run a 7 1/2 minute mile now!


The marvels of technology allow me to chronicle run stats for each day’s effort.  But the thrill is not the tech, but the run.

But at least I can still run a mile, and more than a mile, as I’ve more or less kept up the habit of running for about forty years.  My favorite running season is the early fall, after the brutality of summer heat  lets up.  The air is warm and the humidity much more tolerable.  On some of these crisp October days, I feel like I could run ten miles (Of course that’s in my head, because I can’t, but it’s nice to feel as if I could!).

I much prefer running outdoors, even year round.  Watching a TV while going nowhere on a treadmill would bore me.  This afternoon as I cruised across a broad grassy field on the way home, an endorphin rush created a fleeting sensation of gliding.  I thought to myself, “This feels good!”  I can’t run as fast nor as far as I did years ago, but I can still run.

And so I will run until either it’s no longer fun or I just can’t do it anymore, whichever comes first.

Hurricanery: The Showman’s Branch of Meteorology Saturday, Oct 8 2016 


Uh, there’s a hurricane going on, reporter.  Time to head for cover?

We watched reporters this week on several networks  clad in high boots and hooded slicker suits, broadcasting the eminence of Hurricane Matthew and his attendant dangers.

One reporter showed  a wind-driven projectile she had picked up from the hazardous street, emphasizing the dangers of being outside.


Who doesn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain?  much less the hurricane?

Why, the TV meteoro-journalist, of course!  I think they’re exhibitionists.

I decided to call this journalistic propensity news hurricanery.   These reporters want to make a name for themselves.

Doggy Dig It, Doggone it! Tuesday, Oct 4 2016 

Fall arrives.  The season Sadie and Marley dig the most.  No pun intended.

For whatever reason, as soon as the days shorten and the early fall air turns to the slightest  crisp, their paws are transformed into bionic earth movers.  The healthiest entanglement of St. Augustine sod is no match for their determined efforts to destroy turf.

For years I fought and resisted  this canine propensity, but they always won.  Since last year, I decided to wave the white flag.  They’re dogs.  They dig.  So I dig.  So what?


Marley the Dog is an adept digger.  He prefers making his bed in dust and mud rather than healthy grass.

The yard will turn ugly over the winter anyway, and spring will make all things green and grassy  in due season.

Sunset on Summer 16 Thursday, Sep 29 2016 

Our first legit cool front of the season is blowing across the prairie this evening.  It’s been a long, wet summer.   Hot, too, but we’ll remember this one more for being wet.  Memories of the great August flood will endure, but that super-sensational rain event notwithstanding, the entire season from June through August was rainy.

The silver lining this late summer/early fall of the season is really not silver—-it’s orange and brown, gray and pink.  September sunsets splash across the sky, awash in autumn’s smokey harvest hues.  Good bye, summer.  Welcome, fall.img_0636

Small Town Americana: Football Sunset on the Friday Night Cajun Prairie Friday, Sep 23 2016 

14369948_10210261940966331_6878946588461921302_nSunsets along the Gulf Coast this time of year can be spectacular.  So tonight from the home stands at Blue Jay Field, looking across the home team’s sideline toward the west,  I rejoiced in the prairie’s flatness that allows this captivating perspective of creation.  The  setting sun’s dazzling, colorful splash across the darkening  sky defies imagination’s capacity to grasp eternity: May we stand in awe of the Creator of  sunset!

In-service Daze Saturday, Sep 17 2016 


The sustenance of an all-morning in-service: Not by bread alone.

How many tedious, butt-numbing hours of in-service,  committee service, and administrative service  accumulate in thirty-seven years of a career in education?  I’m not sure of the number of  hours in answer to that question, but surely enough hours that add up to many, many daze.

In most of these meetings, especially the ones that go on for multiple hours, the endurance of will pits the mind versus the behind: Which portion of the anatomy has greater capacity than the other to absorb the abuse resulting from interminable hours of squirming in an uncomfortable chair, of straining to remain alert (and at times, awake!).

Sometimes the mind prevails, other times the behind, but in all cases, the contest is nip and tuck.  And in reality, neither wins—-in the meeting-bureaucracy of educational administration, both mind and behind are well-acquainted with losing.

A Thyme For All Season[ing]s Sunday, Sep 11 2016 

Sarah posted this on her Facebook wall a few days ago.  Too good of a thought not to give the permanence of a blog post.  Take it away, Sarah Ann . . .


What’s the cost of so much thyme?

Cleaned out my spice rack and found:
I can no longer claim I don’t have enough thyme!

 Can’t figure out why I have so much thyme on my hands!
Maybe because thyme is of the essence!
Meanwhile, I’ll just have a good ole thyme with all my thyme!
I’d better start killing some thyme!
It’s going to take some thyme this thyme!😆

When the obvious is the obvious… Wednesday, Sep 7 2016 

I’ve got to believe that the city traffic planner who posted this  marker at the intersection of 12th and Park Avenue did so in jest.  Is a traffic sign even necessary?  That makes as much sense as planting a “Slower Traffic Keep Right” sign in the unpaved, single-lane alley that runs behind the house.


No kidding?

Wild Wisteria: The Medusa Vine Friday, Sep 2 2016 


Wisteria shoots bristle like venomous tentacles: Medusa’s locks!

Anything green and growing in this part of creation has loved summer 2016.  Never a dry spell—- showers, even floods, abounding from spring till now.

And so the Wisteria vines flourish and thrive above all.  I have trimmed and trimmed and trimmed the unruly shoots at least once a week since May.  However, the more I trim and prune, the more  the vines roar back with determined ferocity.

This time of late summer, when in normal years the tumultuous vines  have slowed  in their increase, I think of Medusa, that hideous goddess of antiquity, whose unruly locks writhed with venomous fury.   Such is my nemesis, the Wisteria vines!

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