the next gross task

I’d thought all my magnetic poetry was safe in the bottom of one of the guest room closets because it was in a plastic bag. Most of the magnetic words are in a metal Magnetic Poetry lunchbox or in plastic containers. But some are in their original cardboard containers, and those were damp, so I guess I’m going to have to clean them all, and clean them in such a way that the words don’t disappear from the magnets.

I REALLY need a house elf for this job, dammit. You’ll know I’ve actually done it when a magnetic poem shows up on the blog. Something to look forward to. [commence eyeroll]

Button Sunday

As those of you who lived through it may remember, I spent 2011 pulling words from my various Magnetic Poetry┬« kits to create a poem a day. Back in July of 2014, Dave Kapell, founder of Magnetic Poetry┬«, presented an idea for taking the poetry from the refrigerator to the table top and asked his Facebook friends if they’d have any interest in such a collection. That concept became Wood Words, and I tossed my name in to be one the first fifty purchasers.

Yesterday, less than a year later, my set arrived, and it’s beautiful. Leisure time is almost nonexistent for me these days, so being able to indulge my creative side by spilling some of these beautiful tiles onto the table will give me an opportunity to let my mind play. I need that to replenish my energy and get a break from the harsher realities of this planet and the people who dwell on it.

My first poem from the set.

And you can turn the tiles over, too, to see what poem chance has created for you.

Thanks, Dave. I’m honored to be #45 and grateful not only for what you create, but who you are: one of the good guys.

100 Happy Days: 6

It’s another present from my three-months-ago birthday! I know how to extend a happy celebration.

Though I make jokes about The Store of My People, I can’t make jokes about the Songs of My People. First, rednecks are not a strictly Southern phenomenon, and second, my people would be rotating in their graves to be called rednecks. Because they weren’t, not even Aunt Jo who scandalized the family by walking downtown barefooted. (I wish I’d known her.)

Rednecks or not, you’ve no doubt known some good ol’ boys, and this poem is in honor of them.

Magnetic Poetry 365:362

Only three more to go!

This is Penelope the Pig, a gift from Lynne. Her literature says: With her head-strong determination and good fortune, Penelope is the perfect depiction of overcoming impossible odds! Her personal wager against anyone using the phrase ‘When pigs fly!’ has brought much prosperity and abundance indeed.

Headstrong…determined…. Sounds familiar. Bring on the prosperity, Universe!

And thanks, Lynne. =)