Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts

Thursday, 27 January 2022

Library Blunder

 I was going through my writing files on my computer and stumbled upon a story I haven’t thought about in a long time. I haven’t posted anything in too long, so why not something amusing?

I’m part of a writers group, even though, since I moved away, I’m no longer able to meet with them once a month. These days, due to COVID we share and critique each other’s pieces via email. That works well, too, and I am able to take part. In any case, we sometimes do fun writing exercises. One day one of the members brought a list of titles; we were to choose one and write a story for it. I chose ‘When Pigs Fly’ and penned the following true story for it, which still makes me smile –even more so today than when it happened.

When Pigs Fly

I wanted to run as fast as my legs could carry me, away, far, far away from this embarrassing moment. As I’d done a hundred times before, I stood in line at the library waiting for someone to help me. Finally the friendly librarian greeted me with, “How may I help you?” I told her I’m here to pick up a book I had on reserve.

“What’s the title?” she asked.

I’m not sure what was going on in my brain while I waited. Perhaps I was thinking of feeding pigs, wondering if I could find joy with such a stinky job. Some people seem to like it. No, I couldn’t be happy with work that comes with a nose-burning stench. Or maybe I was thinking about some real live pig man. In any case, my answer to the librarian’s question was: “The Pigman.”

The Pigman?” the librarian asked with a funny look. By now my blunder had caused my eyes to go wide, my cheeks suddenly had too much rouge and I wanted to melt into the floor. This was not the book I had on reserve, I’ve never even thought about reading it and don't really know what it's about. I have no idea how that title even came to mind, or how I couldn’t stop it before saying it out loud. I laughed, as much to hide my embarrassment as how hilarious it was. I mumbled the title that couldn’t beat The Pigman out of my mouth before, and sheepishly tucked my book under my arm and left.

In hind sight, I wonder why I was so embarrassed. It wouldn’t be so strange for me to sign out that book. It’s a grade seven novel after all, and I did work at a school at the time. I’m pretty sure, though, I wasn’t daydreaming about some handsome pig man. Or was I?

 

Today, quite a few years later, I’m married to someone who used to manage a pig operation. 

Sometimes pigs fly. 

Tuesday, 30 April 2019

Hutterite Diaries Spin-Off -- Unexpected Request

It came via the 'Contact Me' form on my blog. A lady by the name of Lacey requested to use one of  the stories featured in Hutterite Diaries. She's working on  a place-based curriculum project, as part of her graduate work:
 This was a final project in partial fulfillment for a Master of Education in Language and Literacy from the University of Alaska Fairbanks. I currently reside in Aberdeen, SD. Place-based curriculum is essential to educating children about their communities, local environment, and landscape. The purpose of this place-based curriculum project was to provide learners experiences with local people, places, and things that reside outside the classroom, while addressing South Dakota history and social studies curriculum standards. This project used the online digital Esri Story Maps platform along with written lesson plans to create a third-grade social studies curriculum that highlighted the local geography, history, and culture of the city of Aberdeen, SD, and surrounding area through a place-based educational lens. Through this project, I hope to facilitate students’ place attachment to a specific geographic location (Aberdeen) and support them in developing a sense of belonging and community. 
Naturally I was intrigued by Lacey's project and delighted that she chose to use one of my stories. As part of the different people and places in the Aberdeen area, she wanted to feature Hutterites.  When I pointed out to her that I'm not in the area, not even in the same country, she responded, "I realize that you are not in my region, but I’m finding it difficult to find stories that describe the values and way of Hutterite life." 

The story Lacey chose is, Weathered Wood Lessons, because she decided to focus on Hutterites and frugality. I found it interesting that she picked that story. Yes, we are frugal, to a point, but I feel we don't practice that enough. Seems to me, we were a lot more frugal years ago, than we are today. We've become lax in that area and thus "waste not, want not", is left wanting. Sadly, at times when the older generation points out that fact, it mostly falls on deaf ears.  That being said, there are people among us who diligently practice frugality and are trying to pass it on to the next generation. And Hutterites are notorious for going to garage sales and second hand shops. Some may not see it as such, but this is reusing, recycling, and saving money -- in other words, being frugal. So, perhaps we do have a lesson or two we can share with others.

But back to Lacey's project. She was kind enough to share a link. I thought teachers especially would find this interesting and may be able to use it, or be inspired to create something similar. Click here to view the project. You can navigate the site by using the tabs. What a great idea, that each story comes with a lesson plan! Well Done, Lacey!

It's always rewarding to hear when teachers tell me how they use Hutterite Diaries in their classrooms. (So, feel free to share your ideas.) My sincere thanks to Lacey for introducing my book to schools via her grad project and for allowing me to feature her work on my blog!

I'd like to know what you think of Lacey's project. Can you see yourself doing something like this with your class?




Friday, 21 September 2018

Göttliche Gröβe - inspiration from my time in Banff


 While in Banff for a conference, (read more here, if you missed it) I enjoyed walking along this beautiful trail along the Bow River, right behind our hotel. When I came home I was inspired to write a German poem about it, which I then used as a sample poem in my Grades 6-8 German class. The poem describes what I see along the way, green water, mountains, pine trees, blooming bushes... It ends with words of gratitude, and a few lines of a fitting hymn that came to mind: 

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to Thee. 
How great Thou art! How great Thou art!



Göttliche Gröβe

Ein schmaler Wanderweg
Schlängelt sich neben dem breiten Bow Fluβ,
Grűn, glänzend, ruhig.
Ein Gänsepaar gleitet geműtlich umher.

Auf der anderen Seite des Fluβes,
Ragen riesige Berge –
Grau, zerklűftet, majestätisch –
den hell blauen Himmel empor.
Im Schatten des Berges
Dunkelgrűne Fichten und Kiefern, dicht an dicht –
zapfentragende Schildwachen
stattlich, standhaft, schlank.

Buntblűhende Bűsche
Parfűmieren die feuchte Luft.
Eine leichte Brise mischt
 angenehmer Blűtenduft mit Fichtengeruch und
erfűllt entzűckend Luft und Nase.
Kiefernhäher zwitschern in ihrem Versteck
In den schattenreichen Nadelbäumen.

Schweigend, andächtig, dankbar
Schlendere ich mich ruhig dahin,
  diesen herrlichen Sommerabend-Spaziergang
In Banff, Alberta geniessen zu dűrfen!
Dann jauchst mein Herz dir groβer Herrscher zu,
Wie groβ bist du! Wie groβ bist du!

Sunday, 12 August 2018

Light-Hearted Night Writers


As I may have mentioned before, I'm part of a writers group, known as the Night Writers. Here we celebrate each other's successes, offer encouragement and share pertinent writing related news such as contests or helpful articles and books. We meet once a month to share the prose or poems we're working on at the time. After the piece is read by the author, all the other members offer helpful critiques. Of course, it's up to the author, whether she wants to accept the critiques. This group is helping me grow as a writer, and has helped improve and enhance all the stories I've written in the past - many of which were published in Hutterite Diaries, Spirit of Canada, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and various newspapers and magazines.
Sometimes we write pieces for the sheer fun of stringing together words, and to share with our friends at Night Writers. The following is one such story, written by Nadine Dobbin, with a keen sense of humour.

Thank you, Nadine for finding inspiration to write a story, playing with the title of my book and for allowing me to post it on my blog. Your story certainly added a touch of hilarity to our evening ths month, so much so, that I opted to post it so my readers can have a laugh out loud moment as well.

Hutterite Dairies
            
 “Elma!  Come here quick!” Linda called from the front of the house. As she came around the corner, Elma saw the back of a semi leaving the yard. 

 "They’re here!” Linda squealed, “They are truly, actually finally here!!”
 “Where are you? “ Elma asked searching among the rows of boxes to find her sister. 

 “I wanted you to be here when I opened the first box” Linda explained, “As you have helped me so much!”
 She pointed the scissors at a box.  Her hand was shaking as she asked. “Ready?”  Slicing through the tape she opened the box and pulled out the first book, “Ah, there’s nothing like the scent of a new book!  Especially when it’s your own!!”  Linda giggled. 
Elma added, “And when you have waited so long to see your diaries in print!”  
Linda ran a hand down the front cover, “It's a dream come true!  Hutterite Diaries...wait!  OH NO!  Elma, it says DAIRIES!!” 

“What?  IT Can NOT be, it simply cannot!”
            
Frantically Elma and Linda ripped open several more boxes, but each book was the same, printed in bold black letters on the front was HUTTERITE DAIRIES.
Linda grew pale, “Elma, what am I going to do?  I have a thousand books with the wrong title!”
            
Elma slowly shook her head, “Well tonight is our Night Writer’s meeting, we will take a box and ask our friends for advice!”

As soon as they were sitting around the table, Dora looked at Linda D. and asked, “What’s wrong?”
             
“Oh Linda, I can’t believe it! They spelled the name of my book wrong—on all THOUSAND copies!” Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes.

Linda D. said, “Oh my, what did they say when you contacted them?  They should fix this.”
  
 “They said it was their mistake and they would reprint and send the new books, but I still have all these books—they said they were mine to keep and do with what I wanted, too expensive to come and get them.”
           
 “Could you donate them somewhere?” a member asked
            
 “I can’t just give them away– then no one will buy my book!  The inside is fine!”
           
 “How about down the road we have a sale, sell them for cheaper?  After your thousand are sold?” Asked Nadine, “We can advertise it as, “Have you HERD– it’s an  Udderly Moovelous book sale!   We can serve milk and cookies “
           
 “Oh Nadine! “ Dora laughed. “Oreo cookies– because they are black and white like a Holstein, Oh! And we can wear black and white ….and put pictures of Holsteins and Oreo cows around the room and...”
            
 “It doesn’t seem right that I profit from their mistake though,” said Linda.
            
 “Then partner with a good cause, a charity or something” Nadine responded.   “We do need to let the public know that it isn’t about cows and dairy barns though– can’t mislead the public!” Nadine winked at Linda M.
      
 “Well, maybe, I’ll have to think on it.”
      
 “You mooost certainly do,” Nadine responded, “Ok, I’m sorry, just trying to be helpful. 
           
 “Stop already! This is no laughing matter!”
            
 “Yes, stop milking it for all it’s worth!”
           
 “Wait! Isn’t that a cliché?”
           
 “What about if we table this for now, and we can all think on it for the next month and bring some ideas to the next meeting?”  Dora said
           
 “What an udderly moovelous idea!” Nadine replied.
             
 “No, no, no!” Linda M said, “No more moo, no moo, no moo..!”
           
 “Linda, Linda, wake up! What do you mean, no moo?”  Elma shook Linda’s shoulder. 

 Linda sat up in bed and stared at Elma.  “Oh, thank goodness, it was just a dream!”