It really isn’t the end of summer — the season, that is — but it is the start of the school year. Harrumph! I do like my job. Wonderful students. Interesting classes. Lots of flexibility. But, no matter, going back to school is HARD.
That said, I’m pretty excited about the students I’m working with, and already we’re having fun. In my advanced undergrad poetry workshop, the students have written poems about the end of summer. Spoiler: it’s sad! Here’s the assignment, in case you want to try it for yourself:
Write a poem of no more than 12 lines that addresses your end-of-summer self. Mention all of the following in your poem: * something you loved to do when you were 9 or 10 or 11; * a piece of advice one of your parents or another adult has given you; * something you wish had happened this past summer * where you imagine you’ll be in 10 years; * someone you knew when you were kid who you no longer know; * and some advice you’d give yourself.
We’ve also spent time dreaming up our ideal classroom: a “farm table” right in the middle, just like in my first grade classroom, where we’d grow radishes and other easy things; a Lego corner; an imaginary friends corner; a kiddy pool we’d sit around in old lawn chairs; an area where you’d be yourself at 11, goofy clothes and all; a big table where we’d discuss poems; and a table where we’d eat cake, which I will bake, of course.
In other words, a physical space much like Cake & Poetry: a little of this, a little of that, zip zip zip! I really like it that way. Maybe you do too?
If you’ve been reading for awhile, thank you! If you’ve new here, thanks for stopping by this little workshop / bakeshop / cottage garden / memory lane. I hope you’ll find just what you’re needing, whatever that may be.
My other class, ENGL 318, is a topics in creative writing course and our topic is Influence & Adaptation. We spent our first week thinking about our own influences, literary and otherwise. Here are just some of the thought-provoking answers:
my mom's poetry the story of my parents' meeting Catcher in the Rye the Titanic disaster biology and neuro pathways The Bell Jar The Book Thief The Secret Garden Where the Sidewalk Ends Sherlock Holmes Grace Kelly Little House books Van Gogh and my grandmother Victorian London ancient Greece Uncle John's 50s music Taylor Swift "The Yellow Wallpaper" Old Hollywood X-men King Arthur Old Christmas music David Bowie To Kill a Mockingbird my Dad The Beatles government and politics my third grade teacher documentaries indie pop the 1920s and 1950s The Hunger Games "A League of Their Own" "The Princess Bride" musicals, especially "Phantom of the Opera" hope something more after death "
Lists like this are fun! Maybe you should make your own and then, of course, write “under the influence,” as my students will soon be doing.
Whenever I think of school, I think of my mom who was a teacher and librarian and who not only encouraged me to “play school” but also graciously took on the role of Polly Price, a very bad student who needed a lot of correction, which of course I was happy to provide.
My sisters Margaret and Ruth were the ones who came up with the name Polly Price when they made a class list for me (us?) to play with (that’s Margaret and me in our super fun basement). It’s funny that I remember imaginary students like Polly and Bridget Mushroom (my favorite! and probably the reason I took Bridget as my confirmation name) and Jenny Winklebean as well as I remember kids from my elementary school class: Laura B, Sally N, Liz D, Cathy D, Lisa E, Laura C, Jane M, Janet C, Sandra L, Michael B, Michael K, David S, Dan D, Eddie Z, Steve N, and so many more.
My other teaching role model is, no doubt, Richard Scarry’s Miss Honey. She seems to be a very patient bear, but, you know, still a bear. That’s the energy I’m going for.
And yes, my Polly, the feistiest of my Shelties, is named after Polly Price.
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Speaking of teaching... here’s a reminder that I’m teaching a workshop in Northern Michigan on Saturday, September 28, 1-3 pm. This workshop will focus on Ekphrastic poetry — that is, writing about/in response to visual art. For more info, visit the Glen Arbor Art Center page.
This has been a wonderful summer for the squirrels and rabbits. What delicious peas and potatoes, squash and tomatoes they’ve eaten in my garden! Really very lovely for them! And I’m happy to share, I really am, though if they don’t truly love tomatoes, lets’s say, then maybe not grab a new one each day, take a single bite, and then throw it aside! Some of us would eat the whole thing... Just sayin’.
The critters and I divvied up the acorn squash. They took the bigger one and the entire plant (ripped right out of the ground: impressive!); I got one medium and one small squash and made this delicious and rather autumnal bread.
I used this recipe, adapting it just a bit by replacing 1/2 cup of the all-purpose flour with white whole wheat, reducing the sugar by a bit more than 1/4 cup, and adding dates. I also used one of my special baking pans, which of course always help justify purchasing such things.
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This very rustic cherry slab pie is a final-ish celebration of summer in Michigan. As always, baking is a reminder that, happily, I am ok with imperfection. The crust is homemade, using this recipe; the filling is Mamma Mary’s Cherry Pie Filling from Cherry Republic.
War and Peace Update! I’m in the home stretch — by which I mean I have 350 pages to go and the novel has entered the territory of “a regular book.” I do like it quite a bit, though I don’t feel an affinity with any of the characters; they are exasperating, each in their own way. My favorite part is probably the sense of history. I always enjoy thinking about how x was happening at the same time as y, etc. Just now, it’s 1812 in the novel, and in addition to of course thinking about the War of 1812 and about what Keats was up to (he’s my go-to), I’m thinking about my relatives. The French part of my family was in Windsor/Detroit by then. Some ancestors arrived in Quebec in 1680 and then slowly made their way to this area. The earliest relatives who came to Detroit directly from France arrived in 1721, which is not long after the founding of the city by Cadillac in 1701. But my Belgian ancestors (or, really, Flemish, since Belgium did not exist as a country until 1830) did not come to Detroit until the early 1900s, so they were in Europe at the time of Napoleon. Mind-boggling to think of such things and to wonder what they thought/experienced. I’m never sure what to do with these musings/feelings, but they feel somehow important/essential to who I am and how I like to move through life. Know what I mean?
Another novel that has me thinking historically is The English Patient, one of my all-time favorites. Have you read it? I’ll be teaching this novel (or, rather, it will be teaching us) in ENGl 318 in a few weeks. Will undergrads in 2024 like this book? Some will, I think. Fortunately, “liking” is not of the upmost importance, as I remind students in my best Mary Poppins-esque way. I’m a big fan of Mary Poppins; she really deserves more attention in a future installment of Cake & Poetry.
ENGL 318, as I’ve said, is about “influence and adaptation.” The English Patient is, first and foremost, a gorgeously written novel. Many breathtakingly good sentences. It’s also a history lesson. And a lesson of how other writers can influence us. I’m thinking primarily of the book by Herodotus that the English Patient has turned into a kind of commonplace book/scrapbook. I want my students to do something similar... though I’m not sure how to construct this assignment. Stay tuned.
(Fun fact: Kip, my blue merle Sheltie, is named after Kip from The English Patient.)
Besides my friends the squirrel and rabbits, the last few weeks has brought some other special visitors. I was especially excited to meet a Draparaud’s Glass Snail and to escort him (gently!) to some cool dirt where I assume/hope he was happy.
As someone who loves to be at home, I relate to snails. How lovely to take one’s house along for the ride! And, believe it or not, I have two snail-related book recommendations: one for adults — The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey — and one for kids (and adults) — Escargot by Dashka Slater with illustrations by Sydney Hansen.
As I work on this installment of Cake & Poetry, September has just begun and the weather in Michigan couldn't be more perfect: warm and sunny and breezy. It’s been so lovely to read in the garden, and take quiet, looping walks through the neighborhood, and nap with my cat, Myrna. I hope wherever you are the weather, both meteorological and personal, suits you, too. Late Summer into Autumn really is a time to savor.
Thank you for reading. More soon!