Reading Update

Book #69 of 2026 was The Book Club for Troublesome Women, by Marie Bostwick. This was a book club pick. Set in 1963 and following, it's a story about a group of women who get together to read Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique. As they keep the book club going (they call themselves the Bettys), we get to see the lives of all these different women. My favorite part was at the end when a few very famous people appeared. (By the way, one of the women in the book group got the waiter at the Ugandan cafe where we meet to pick this book from two we were considering. He liked the word troublesome and felt it boded well for how interesting the book would be.) 

 

Book #70 was a re-read, Prayer in the Night, by Tish Harrison Warren. You can read what I wrote about it here.

 

Book #71 was Strong to the End: The Simple Service and Sudden Sacrifice of the Martyrs in Haiti, by David and Alicia Lloyd with Dean Merrill. I wrote a little bit about this story here.

 

Book #72 was Ann Patchett's book about her friend Lucy Grealy, Truth & Beauty: A Friendship. The most striking thing about this book to me is how difficult Grealy was, and the fact that Patchett can portray their friendship so lovingly. 

 

Book #73 was Three Days in June, by Anne Tyler. I used to read lots of Tyler's books, but it's been a while since I've read one. I enjoyed this.

 

Book #74 was This Book Made Me Think of You, by Libby Page. Like the last one, this book was a sweet, undemanding read with a happy ending. Sometimes that's exactly what you need!

 

I had book #75 on my shelf in my classroom in Haiti, but somehow I had never read it. In a house where we were staying, a kid had a copy that I read. The book is Sisters: A Graphic Novel by Raina Telgemeier, and it was a lovely read.

 

Book #76 was Project Hail Mary, by Andy Weir. I read his book The Martian earlier in the summer, and this one is similar. It's a science-y book but you don't have to get all the science to enjoy the story. It's about figuring stuff out, and friendship, and optimism. I really liked this one!

 

Book #77 was Whistler, by Ann Patchett. It's about reconsidering the events of our lives, and seeing them through other lenses. Also it's not a horse book, in spite of the cover.

 

Book #78 was Uprooted, by Naomi Novik. This is a fantasy and not really my kind of book. However, it was an interesting story.

 

Book #79 was A Family Matter, by Claire Lynch. This is about a family secret that emerges forty years later, in a world that has changed enormously.

 

Book #80 was Heartstone, by Elle Katharine White. Jane Austen with dragons. I'll always try Jane Austen fanfiction, and this was fun.

 

Book #81 was The Steps, by Wendelin Van Draanen. Is Ruby paranoid, or is everyone in her family really out to get her? And also, she's in the chess club.

 

 

Poetry Friday: Migrations

My school year has had a bit of a slow start, with a couple of days where I didn't have much to do. That will change soon. When you read this post on Friday, I'll be having a super busy day, teaching six periods, five different levels of French. But because I've been sitting around some this week, I had the chance to listen to a program called "Words in Flight" that came out in February. (You can find it here.) It includes some interviews with poets and lots of poems about birds. 

 

It was hard to choose just one of these poems to share, but because I've been thinking a lot about migration, immigration, moving around from country to country, I went with this villanelle by Sean Hill.

 

 

 

The Western Tanager or Why Montana
Piranga ludoviciana

by Sean Hill

 

Are wanderings the same as migrations?
I came to Montana for love, which sometimes is
how we know our destinations.
The Western Tanager flies here for procreation 
when the snow goes wet, puddles, runs, and takes to 
far wandering. Is this the same as migration?
A life is the sum of grand and modest peregrinations. 
Communities bloom at the meeting of opportunity 
and ambition and can be a way to know our destinations.
A fire-engine red head cooling to orange to 
a sunny yellow body with those charcoal wings, 
the male western tanager flashes conflagration
or an eastern autumn, in flight. One, familiar, greeted 
me shortly after we both arrived letting me know 
our wanderings weren’t the same—his, a migration.
In a stand of ponderosas where a blanket of snow lay for decades 
or longer, the dendrologist says these trees moved up from what’s 
Mexico as that quiet water pulled back, a different migration
—moving seed by seed north generationally migrating 
to where they had been and where they could live 
never asking how do we know our destination?
Why Montana? One among my interrogations, 
both public and private like How big is a home? 
Are wanderings the same as migrations?
and How do I know my destinations?

 

 

How thankful I am for migrations, both of birds and of people! How our lives are enriched by these visitors from elsewhere, and how we will be impoverished if we continue to remove people as has become so common around the world. 

 

I wrote a poem in 2021 that explored some of these ideas; you can read it here.

 

Molly is hosting the Poetry Friday roundup this week. 

Poetry Friday: For the Bird Singing Before Dawn

Welcome to Poetry Friday! I have been back home in Uganda less than a week after a short time in the United States. We're getting ready to go back to school next Tuesday, so there's lots to do, but I'll take frequent breaks to round up your posts the old fashioned way. Leave your link in the comments so we can all enjoy what you've chosen to share.

 

I read a lot of sad pieces as I tried to pick my poem for today. I'm thinking a lot about what it is to be an immigrant, and what it is to be unwelcome and sent away, as I watch the news about the cancellation of Haitian TPS. In my mind it was all mixing with the Odyssey movie that we saw the day before we left the US, and the law of hospitality which is a central theme.  But I finally settled on something a little more cheerful instead.

 

For the Bird Singing Before Dawn

Kim Stafford

 

Some people presume to be hopeful
when there is no evidence for hope,
to be happy when there is no cause.
Let me say now, I’m with them.

 

In deep darkness on a cold twig
in a dangerous world, one first
little fluff lets out a peep, a warble,
a song—and in a little while, behold:

 

the first glimmer comes, then a glow
filters through the misty trees,
then the bold sun rises, then
everyone starts bustling about.

 

And that first crazy optimist, can we
forgive her for thinking, dawn by dawn,
“Hey, I made that happen!
And oh, life is so fine.”

 

 

 

You can read some of Stafford's thoughts on this poem here.

 

Linda M. has written a lovely poem called "How to Make a Map." 

 

Michelle is thinking about native plants, and particularly one that is a dear friend.

 

Karen shares a Philip Larkin poem and some thoughts about writing and living.

 

Patricia's link isn't live yet, so I'll come back later to update this entry.

 

Tabatha has a Wendell Berry poem about lilies and surprises.

 

These were all the links awaiting me when I woke up to a chilly Kampala morning (it's 66 degrees, so chilly is maybe not what everyone would call it). I'm headed to work in a bit, and I'll keep checking for your submissions! Happy Friday!  

 

I'm back! I've been attending sessions this morning and now I have some classroom work time (much needed). While I was learning, a new link came in.

 

Denise is doing some poetry challenges right now, both writing and reading. She shares two of the poems she's read recently and both are great. Be sure to click through to read the end of "If there were a job interview to have children." Relatable! 

 

Friends, I apologize for stepping away from my hosting duties for a while. Our school owns some property on Lake Victoria where there are plans to build a new campus. Our Head of School wanted to take those who had never visited, and he asked me to go along and help people identify birds. It was a lovely Friday afternoon excursion and I saw 27 species. And now I'm back to round up the links that came in while I was busy.

 

Marcie, like Denise, is doing a poetry-reading challenge, and she has some wonderful-looking poetry books to tell us about. She's also got a haiku and a photo of beautiful summery coneflowers.

 

Irene wrote about a Berthe Morisot poem for today. You'll fall in love with her trashy pup!

 

Molly's  exploring maps with the Inklings, and she reminds us, "our journey carves its own way."

 

Margaret is also working with the topic of maps, and she's made a collage poem. I love the mental image I get of the Inklings all writing together in one place!

 

Cathy  has a variety of treasures this week, including some memories of people who have died, some art, and a new way to share poetry.

 

We're back to maps with Catherine, who's written a poem and illustrated it with a photo of stained glass. Beautiful!

 

Mary Lee has a map poem illustrated with embroidery! 

 

Linda B. is remembering a wonderful family trip with an acrostic and some gorgeous photos. 

 

Anyone else? I'm home now for the evening, so I'm fully available to round up whatever you send! 

 

Heidi is sharing map poems, too, and wishing that we may all find a hospitable place in the world. Amen to that!

 

Jone's link came in after I was asleep, and here it is! It's about what's in your heart. 

 

Carol is reflecting on what's in her heart, too. 

Reading Update

Book #61 of the year was The Silver Chair and #62 was The Magician's Nephew, both from C.S. Lewis' Narnia series and both reliable comfort reads for me no matter how many times I pick them up.

 

Book #63 was The Toll, by Neal Shusterman, the third book in the Arc of a Scythe series. These were kind of wacky books, but I enjoyed them.

 

Book #64 was The Reservation, by Rebecca Kauffman, a mystery set in a restaurant. It was interesting to meet the variety of characters in the story.

 

Book #65 was The Ungrateful Refugee by Dina Nayeri. Nayeri is the sister of Daniel Nayeri, who has told their story in Everything Sad is Untrue, which I read in 2022. (He also wrote the novel The Teacher of Nomad Land, which I read in April.) Dina Nayeri is asking a lot of questions about refugees and the way the whole system works. It's a heartbreaking and timely look at what it was like for her, but also for people who fared much worse.

 

Book #66 was another Narnia read, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. This one might be my favorite -- at least right now!

 

Book #67 was The Martian, by Andy Weir. This was great fun to read, and now I want to see the movie!

 

I heard about book #68 on Amy Julia Becker's podcast, "Reimagining the Good Life."It's a novel written by a dad of a special needs child, and it's about a family whose son, Emmett, has Down Syndrome. (Amy Julia Becker is also the parent of a child with Down Syndrome.) In the book, That's Not How it Happened, Emmett's mom has written a memoir and a famous actress wants to make a movie of the memoir. This was an entertaining book about what it's like to live with disability and the assumptions we tend to make about other people. 

Poetry Friday: Haitian Joy and Sorrow

Earlier this month there was so much rejoicing in Haiti and among people in the rest of the world who love Haiti. Although our Grenadiers didn't win any of their matches in the World Cup, we were so happy that they qualified to compete. We cheered them as they played Scotland (though there were grumblings about the refs), then Brazil, and then Morocco. The Brazil game was especially joyful because Brazil is the favorite team in Haiti, the one everyone cheers for in international events when Haiti isn't playing (Argentina is the alternative choice of a minority). So it almost didn't even matter who won. I loved seeing how friendly the Haitian fans and Brazilian fans were to each other. And then on Wednesday, against Morocco, Haiti scored two goals which were both fabulous. Haiti qualified for the World Cup, went to the World Cup (even the one in Haiti who couldn't get his visa at first), and then scored at the World Cup. For a little country that hasn't had much to celebrate in a while, this was all pretty wonderful. I saw many videos of people celebrating.

 

 Photo taken by one of my kids, who was at the game!

 

Then came Thursday, and the Supreme Court's decision that the administration could go ahead and abolish TPS for Haitians and Syrians. In our home we throw around those letters, but if you're not aware, TPS stands for Temporary Protective Status. Haitians and Syrians are two nationalities who have benefited from this program, which allows people to enter the US to escape violence and natural disasters. People who are in the US under TPS are not undocumented and they can work legally. Some of the Haitians here under TPS have been here since the 2010 earthquake, contributing to the US economy as well as keeping their friends and relatives in Haiti afloat. (I'm talking of Haitians because I know many, but assume that these things are true about the Syrians under TPS too, and Google tells me that there are 17 nationalities in the US with this status. The other nationalities will probably be next to lose the designation.) 

 

I emphasized the joy in Haiti in my first paragraph, but obviously that's just part of the story. The country is in turmoil, with gangs controlling more and more places, and terrible violence taking place daily. The US government advises Americans not to travel to Haiti for any reason because of the danger, and yet they are getting ready to deport Haitians there, people who have been working, paying taxes, following American laws. People who did not enter the US illegally.  (Are there undocumented Haitians in the US? Undoubtedly. But people with TPS are not undocumented.)

 

There are many places online where you can learn more about how all of this works, and what you can do about it (not much, now that the Supreme Court has weighed in), but this is Poetry Friday so I'm going to share some Haitian poems. 

 

The first poem was written by Jacques Roumain (1907-1944), a celebrated Haitian poet and novelist. The translation into English is by Langston Hughes. (I found it here.) Guinea (Ginen in Kreyol) is the name given to the ancestral home where Haitians lived pre-slavery. Traditional belief holds that after death, Haitians will go back to Guinea. You can see in the poem that it's a place where they will be welcome, unlike many places on this earth.

 

“Guinea”

 

It’s the long road to Guinea
death takes you down.
Here are the boughs, the trees, the forest.
Listen to the sound of the wind in its long hair
of eternal night.

 

It’s the long road to Guinea
where your fathers await you without impatience.
Along the way, they talk.
They wait.
This is the hour when the streams rattle
like beads of bone.

 

It’s the long road to Guinea.
No bright welcome will be made for you
in the dark land of dark men:

 

Under a smoky sky pierced by the cry of birds
around the eye of the river
the eyelashes of the trees open on decaying light.
There, there awaits you beside the water a quiet village,
and the hut of your fathers, and the hard ancestral stone
where your head will rest at last.

 

 Jacques Roumain, translation Langston Hughes

 

The second one is by Danielle Legros Georges (1964-2025). (I found the poem here.) Haitians often refer to "the phrase" Georges uses in her title. If you hear or read news stories about Haiti they will almost always include "poorest country in the western hemisphere," though more recently they'll also add "earthquake-ravaged" or "gang-controlled." It's not that those things aren't true; they are. It's just that it was so glorious for a few days to think of Haiti in other terms. And in Georges' poem she thinks in other terms, as well.

 

 

Poem for the Poorest Country in the Western Hemisphere

 

O poorest country, this is not your name.
You should be called beacon. You should

 

be called flame. Almond and bougainvillea,
garden and green mountain, villa and hut,

girl with red ribbons in her hair,
books under arm, charmed by the light

of morning, charcoal seller in black skirt,
encircled by dead trees. You, country,

are merchant woman and eager clerk,
grandfather at the gate, at the crossroads

with the flashlight, with all in sight.

 

 Danielle Legros Georges

 

 

Here's  an article about what this Supreme Court ruling means to Haitian TPS holders.

 

Miss Rumphius is hosting the roundup today! 

Reading Update

Book #49 of 2026 was Scythe, by Neal Shusterman. I hadn't even heard of this YA book before, even though it came out in 2016. I have the second one in the series on hold at the library!

 

Book #50 was The Children Act, by Ian McEwan. It looks like I'm going to have to read more of his books.

 

Book #51 was American Wildflowers: A Literary Field Guide, edited by Susan Barba. I didn't love everything in this anthology, but there was a lot of good.

 

Book #52 was Refugee, by Alan Gratz. This book follows the stories of three families of refugees in three different time periods. The first family is running from Nazi Germany, the second from Cuba, and the third from Syria. It's listed as suitable for grades 5-7, but I'd be careful with material as wrenching as this. 

 

Book #53 was Vigil, by George Saunders. You've probably never read anything like this before; I sure haven't. I just looked up my review of the other George Saunders book I've read, Lincoln in the Bardo, and saw that I wrote the same thing. Well, it was true about that book too. Both of them are about death, and both communicate so much in a very elliptical and stream of consciousness style. 

 

Book #54 was The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame. Ann Patchett, the owner of Parnassus Books in Nashville, makes weekly reels with books that she recommends. A couple of weeks ago she mentioned this one, saying that many of her friends talk about it as one of the formative books of their childhood, but she realized she'd never read it. I'd never read it either, so I put a hold on it at the library, and now I have read it. I enjoyed it a lot!

 

Book #55 was The Storm, by Rachel Hopkins, an atmospheric tale of a beach hotel in Alabama and the various hurricanes that have hit it.

 

Book #56 was the sequel to #49, Thunderhead, by Neal Shusterman. Now I'm waiting for the third one to become available at the library. I can't imagine how Shusterman is going to continue the story, which is in a pretty big mess at the end of the second book. 

 

Book #57 was The Horse and his Boy, by C. S. Lewis. I don't know how many times I've read this book, but I always love it.

 

Book #58 was Tana French's The Keeper, the third in the Cal Hooper trilogy. It wasn't my favorite of the three, but I did enjoy it.

 

Book #59 was a book of poetry that I've been wanting to read for a while, Braided Creek: A Conversation in Poetry. These are poems that Ted Kooser and Jim Harrison wrote to each other and sent through the mail or in faxes. 

 

Book #60 was Prayer in the Night: For those Who Work or Watch or Weep, by Tish Harrison Warren. Warren focuses on the prayers of Compline to write a beautiful look at nighttime, suffering, and prayer. 

Reading Update

Book #39 of 2026 was The War I Finally Won, by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley. This is the sequel to The War that Saved My Life, which I read earlier this year. (The link is to what I wrote about it at the time.) I was happy to get to read more about Ada and her experiences in World War II London.

 

Book #40 was Good Soil: The Education of an Accidental Farmhand, by Jeff Chu. Chu participated in the "Farminary" while attending Princeton Theological Seminary, and this is a memoir centered around what he and his spiritual life experienced there as a Chinese-American, gay "writer, speaker, reporter, editor, preacher and teacher," as he describes himself on his website. 

 

Book #41 was Arundhati Roy's memoir Mother Mary Comes to Me. I learned a lot about this author, including about her political activities in India. You can really tell where her strange, atmospheric novels came from when you read about her life.

 

Book #42 was a book club pick, West With Giraffes, by Lynda Rutledge. We all loved this historical novel set in dust bowl America and including giraffes! 

 

Book #43 was We'll Always Have Summer, the third in the Summer I Turned Pretty trilogy, which I first read back in 2016 when my middle schoolers were so into them. 

 

Book #44 was The Poppy Fields, by Nikki Erlick. I enjoyed this novel about grief and healing.

 

Book #45 was Lake Effect, by Cynthia d'Aprix Sweeney, the story of pair of neighbor families that are changed forever by the decisions of two of the parents. We learn about what happened in 1977 and then we get to see the next generation many years later as they deal with the long-term effects. 

 

Book #46 was This is Not About Us, by Allegra Goodman. Not a novel but connected short stories, this book introduces us to the members of a Jewish-American family who lose one of their own in the first story. I enjoyed meeting all these finely-drawn, convincing characters. 

 

Book #47 was Kate Bowler's new book, Joyful, Anyway, which explores how to have joy in a world that is so full of not-joy. 

 

Book #48 was More Than Enough, by Anna Quindlen. I really enjoyed this novel about a DNA test and a book club.  

SJT May: Beginnings and Endings

 

This month's Spiritual Journey Thursday host, Chris Margocs, has asked us to reflect on beginnings and endings. She commented that there are a lot of ending-type transitions in May, like graduations and final exams. We have several weeks left of school, but we're already involved in external exams and getting ready for the internal ones. Plus there are performances coming up, report card comments to be written, Sports Day, and so on. It makes me tired just thinking about all of it. 

 

Chris quoted Isaiah 43:18-19 in her prompt: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?" It's easy for me to dwell on the past. Sometimes the memories are happy ones, and sometimes I'm ruminating on difficult times that I haven't fully been able to let go. It's good for me to be reminded that the story isn't over yet; there are still chapters ahead that I haven't even imagined. (I certainly never thought I'd be living in Uganda at this time in my life, and I'm loving that unexpected chapter!) 

 

Drawn by Chris' quote, I too went to Isaiah, and I found some verses a couple of chapters later where God is speaking to Israel. He says that He was there in the beginning of Israel's journey and is still there in old age: "Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from before your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you." (Isaiah 46:3-4.) Later in verses 9 and 10 He says, "I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done." When I read these words, I realize how often my focus is on the concerns of this moment, and how hard it is to keep an eternal perspective. But when I think about the beginning and the end, both of my life (from before my birth to my current gray hair era) and of time (from ancient times into a distant future still unknown), it's easier to remember how small I am in the scheme of things, and how very little is mine to control. 

 

Thinking of beginnings, middles, and ends made me remember Billy Collins' wonderful poem "Aristotle." It's very difficult to excerpt, so maybe you should just go read the whole thing here. I decided to write my own version.

 

School Year
after Billy Collins


This is the beginning. 
Almost anything can happen.
You’ve got your blank planner, 
your blank classroom walls,
your blankety blank lesson plans to create.
Your class lists have names
familiar and unfamiliar,
but everyone will be new after the summer,
full of energy and the joy of learning.

This is the middle.
Now the grade book has blanks,
but they are messy, like missing teeth.
Now the parent conferences have
both good and bad to report,
the pencils are stubby and blunt,
and it’s time to buy the next size of school uniforms.

And this is the end,
the chapters in the textbook we won’t get to,
the lost and found overflowing with hoodies,
the shushing sound of exams
as scratching pens fill blank pages.
Graduation is almost here
with joy and tears,
and then the weeks of vacation
leading us back to 
the beginning
again. 

 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey 

 

Check out Chris' blog to see what others have written about for this month's SJT!  

 

 

Poetry Friday: Joining NPM in Progress

National Poetry Month has been passing me by this year. I did participate in the Progressive Poem, but other than that I have barely read any poetry, let alone written any. 

 

Since I don't teach English any more, I don't come across as much poetry as I used to in the course of my daily teaching job. But since moving here to Uganda I have had the privilege of getting involved more with drama. We're doing a play right now, a musical adaptation of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and last night was our dress rehearsal. I was right in the middle of the front row in my position as prompter. 

 

There are lots of reasons to love drama, and one that I've been focusing on lately is how analog it is. The kids are just out there on the stage performing. If they make a mistake, so be it; they just keep going. There are no extra takes to make it perfect. They aren't watching someone else perform; they are doing it. They are present, body and soul, belting out their songs, declaiming their lines, giggling and being shushed backstage. 

 

Last night as I turned the pages of my script and supplied words as needed, I found myself enjoying myself so much. I've seen how much our middle school actors have improved over the weeks of practice, the challenges they faced, the rehearsals before and after school, and even on a Saturday. 

 

Does the world need another performance, when you could watch YouTube for the rest of time without repeating yourself? Arguably, no. But is it worth it to put in all this work to make a play? Yes, absolutely it is! How much pleasure the audience will get on our opening night, a couple of hours from now!  

 

This morning, after dragging myself into school, I sat at my desk and lost track of time reading poems online. I just celebrated my 20th blog birthday yesterday, so I was reading past poetry posts. I was thinking back to those days when I used to write a lot of poems. In fact, I was thinking so much that I missed the morning faculty meeting. 

 

Does the world need more poems from me, when there are millions of poems on the internet, just one click away? When there are piles of books of poetry? When AI can write you a ditty in a jiffy? Arguably, no. But how much pleasure there is to be found in the slow, analog creation of something on the page that wasn't there before!

 

Here are two past posts that seem appropriate.  One is about one time in 2018 when I was late to a faculty meeting (at least I didn't miss it completely like this morning), this time due to tomatoes. And the other is one I wrote in 2012 about purple flowers in a field.

 

Irene is hosting the roundup today. Did you know she just came out with her first adult novel? You can get it on your Kindle for 99 cents here. I have it on mine and I can't wait to read it! 

Happy Blog Birthday to Me!

 

 

Twenty years ago today, I pressed Publish on my first post on this blog. Practically everything was different about my life back then. I now live in a different country, do different work, and miss my kids who are far away. (But I'm still married to the same guy, still teaching, and still following Jesus.) I'm glad I started this blog, even though the postings have been sparse lately. I'm grateful for all the people I've met, many virtually and some in person, through it, and for all the readers who have stopped by. I love looking back to see what I was thinking and reading at different times during those twenty years. I've thought about moving to Substack, where I read regularly, but so far I still love my little Blogspot. Happy blog birthday to me! 

 

Reading Update

Book #26 of 2026 was The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million, by Daniel Mendelsohn. This brilliant book is by the author of An Odyssey, which I read in 2019 and wrote about at that link. This book is about Mendelsohn's search for family members who died during the Holocaust in Ukraine. What happened to them exactly? Who were they exactly? What does it mean to remember someone or to remember an event? The book explores all these questions and more. While what happened in Ukraine during World War II is extremely difficult to read about, this book was a rewarding and fascinating read.

 

Book #27 was What We Can Know, by Ian McEwan, another remarkable book. It's set in 2014 and 2119, and both time frames are completely absorbing. In the future, in a world decimated by disasters and climate change, scholars try to figure out what happened in authors' lives in the past. And while they are good at researching, there are some things we just can't know. The ideas about how life could go on in a post-apocalyptic world were mind-blowing, as was the portrayal of the search for knowledge that still could go on in a world like that. I couldn't put this book down.

 

Book #28 was The Teacher of Nomad Land, by Daniel Nayeri. This book is set in Iran during World War II and it won the National Book Award last year. It was very much worth reading.

 

Book #29 was a re-read, The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy, and "Women's Work", by Kathleen Norris. Short but profound.

 

Books #30 and 35 were also re-reads, this time not profound. They were The Summer I Turned Pretty and It's Not Summer Without You, by Jenny Han. I have the third book in this trilogy on hold at the library. I read these ten years ago when I was teaching middle schoolers who were devouring them.

 

Book #31 was Foster, by Claire Keegan. More of a novella, or even a long short story, than a novel, this was a beautiful book.

 

Book #32 was Birding With Benefits, by Sarah T. Dubb. Of course I had to read this romance because it was about birding. But I would have liked more details of the birding and fewer of the extremely open door sex scenes. I'm sure that opinion does not make me the typical reader of a romance novel. Sometimes the birds the characters were after didn't even get named beyond "a bird," whereas every one of the lovers' body parts definitely did get named and described. The characters were participating in a birding contest based on the Tucson Bird Alliance Birdathon. 

 

Book #33 was a new release, Counterweights, by Shannan Martin. Not only did the library acquire it after I requested it, but I got to check it out first! Martin has written beautiful essays about how to live in a challenging time without losing sight of the small things that give us joy. I loved her awareness of how many people struggle with addiction, poverty, and the justice system, even in the privileged United States. 

 

Book #34 was The Forgotten Garden, by Kate Morton. This was a book club pick, and honestly, I probably wouldn't have finished it otherwise. 

 

Book #36 was Lady Tremaine, by Rachel Hochhauser, a retelling of Cinderella from the point of view of the stepmother. While I can't say it's my favorite version of the story, it did keep me reading.

 

Book #37 was The War that Saved My Life, by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley. Although this was a Newbery Honor book in 2015, I hadn't even heard of it until recently. Ada and her brother Jamie are evacuated out of London to be safe from bombing during World War II, and their lives are completely changed. Ada and Jamie are abused children in their London lives, and the author realistically presents their reactions due to the trauma they have experienced. So it can be a pretty upsetting read. 

 

Book #38 was Nancy French's memoir Ghosted. I really enjoyed (and was horrified by) this story of a conservative writer in the age of Trump. 

Line 7 of the 2026 Progressive Poem is Here!

April 1 Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference
April 2 Cathy Stenquist at A Little Bit of This and That
April 3 Patricia Franz at Reverie
April 4 Donna Smith at Mainely Write
April 5 Janice Scully at Salt City Verse
April 6 Denise Krebs at Dare to Care
April 7 Ruth Hersey at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town
April 8 Rose Cappelli at Imagine the Possibilities
April 9 Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche
April 10 Janet Clare Fagel at Reflections on the Teche
April 11 Diane Davis at Starting Again in Poetry
April 12 Linda Baie at Teacher Dance
April 13 Linda Mitchell at Another Word Edgewise
April 14 Jone MacCulloch at
April 15 Joyce Uglow at Storied Ink
April 16 Carol Varsalona at Beyond Literacy Link
April 17 Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge
April 18 Michele Kogan at More Art for All
April 19 Kim Johnson at Common Threads
April 20 Buffy Silverman
April 21 Irene Latham at Live Your Poem
April 22 Karen Edmisten
April 23 Heidi Mordhorst at my juicy little universe
April 24 Mary Lee Hahn at A(nother) Year of Reading
April 25 Tanita Davis at Fiction, instead of Lies
April 26 Sharon Roy at Pedaling Poet
April 27 Tracey Kiff-Judson at Tangles and Tails
April 28
April 29
April 30

 

I've been following the poem eagerly so far. I love the piles of books (reminds me of my bedside table) and of course I'm happy any time birds fly into a poem. But I'm a little worried about where the birds are actually going, where they live, and how they interact with the building-high anthologies. I got distracted by many side quests like looking up different parakeets (rhyming with streets) and sadly discovering that lots of them are extinct, researching bird-friendly buildings (the horizontal lines of the books are good because the birds won't collide with buildings like that as easily, since they can see that they are solid, unlike huge sheets of glass often used on skyscrapers) and exploring what kinds of birds live in cities (hint: not just sparrows and pigeons). Most people don't notice urban birds, but I'm sure that's not the case in the Land of Poetry, right? I wanted to put in some gorgeous Ugandan city birds, but I decided to keep the birds generic and maybe even just metaphors. We'll let future poets decide. Denise, I hope it's OK that I changed your period to a comma. Rose, the poem is all yours! 

 

 

 

On my first trip to the Land of Poetry,
I saw anthologies of every color, tall as buildings.
A world of words, wonder on wings, waiting just for me!
Birding for words shimmering, flecked in golden gilding.

binoculars ready, I toured boulevards and side streets
exploring vibrant verses, verses so honest and tender,
feathery lyrics, bright flitting avian athletes  

 

 

 Photo from this article

 

 

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Service

 

Welcome to our April SJT. Because it's taking place on Maundy Thursday, the day of Holy Week when Jesus washed His disciples' feet, I, as this month's host, suggested that we could write about service. (As always, the prompt is just a suggestion; feel free to write about something completely different!) SJT friends, please leave a comment with your link. (By the way, if you want to read more about Maundy Thursday, I posted some about it when I hosted SJT in 2023 here.) 

 

It was an uncomfortable moment. The disciples were gathered to share their Passover meal, and instead of waiting for the lowest servant to come in to wash everyone's feet, a traditional way to welcome a guest who had been walking on dusty streets, Jesus knelt down before His followers and did that job Himself. It definitely wasn't His job, as the leader, the most important person in the room. But He not only did it, He told them that now they needed to do that for each other. That, the most dirty, low-down, embarrassing kind of service. They shouldn't consider themselves too good to serve others. They shouldn't sit and wait for others to come serve them. They should do what needed to be done. 

 

It's hard to serve others sometimes, and it's also sometimes hard and embarrassing to let others serve you. Both sides of the equation involve being able to forget yourself and your own dignity and importance. Washing other people's feet can be smelly and unpleasant, but letting others wash yours can make you feel self-conscious and uneasy. 

 

The most secure people are the ones who have nothing to prove, and as I read the gospels, I see that Jesus was like that. He was so sure of who He was and what His purpose on earth was that He had no need to impress others or meet their expectations. He didn't concern Himself with people's criticisms or accolades. The only one He cared about pleasing was His Father. I think the more we can be like that, the less trouble we will have with both serving others and being served by them. 

 

Go here to read a beautiful poem about Jesus washing Judas' feet.

 

Margaret shares a song she's singing at the Maundy Thursday service, plus a golden shovel about service.

 

Ramona wrote an acrostic called Holy Ground, inspired by another poet, in honor of National Poetry Month. 

 

Bob's thinking about the heart attitude behind service, and also shares some ways we can serve others. 

 

Diane has written a poem about being ready to serve.

 

Denise created a black out poem from an article about Maundy Thursday. And she challenges us to serve people we might consider our enemies, too. (Plus she shares a message from Benjamin R. Cremer.) 

 

Patricia has a reflection on service, and how serving has played out in her own life. Inspiring stuff! But she's not trying to be inspiring, just to do the next right thing. 

 

Carol shares a nonet about Jesus' service and details about a Maundy Thursday Mass she attended. We're praying for you as you grieve the anniversary of your husband's passing, Carol! 

 

2026 Progressive Poem

Happy National Poetry Month! The 2026 Progressive Poem has begun. You can follow along at these links as the month goes on.

 

April 1 Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference
April 2 Cathy Stenquist at A Little Bit of This and That
April 3 Patricia Franz at Reverie
April 4 Donna Smith at Mainely Write
April 5 Janice Scully at Salt City Verse
April 6 Denise Krebs at Dare to Care
April 7 Ruth Hersey at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town
April 8 Rose Cappelli at Imagine the Possibilities
April 9 Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche
April 10 Janet Clare Fagel at Reflections on the Teche
April 11 Diane Davis at Starting Again in Poetry
April 12 Linda Baie at Teacher Dance
April 13 Linda Mitchell at Another Word Edgewise
April 14 Jone MacCulloch at
April 15 Joyce Uglow at Storied Ink
April 16 Carol Varsalona at Beyond Literacy Link
April 17 Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge
April 18 Michele Kogan at More Art for All
April 19 Kim Johnson at Common Threads
April 20 Buffy Silverman
April 21 Irene Latham at Live Your Poem
April 22 Karen Edmisten
April 23 Heidi Mordhorst at my juicy little universe
April 24 Mary Lee Hahn at A(nother) Year of Reading
April 25 Tanita Davis at Fiction, instead of Lies
April 26 Sharon Roy at Pedaling Poet
April 27 Tracey Kiff-Judson at Tangles and Tails
April 28
April 29
April 30

 

 

Reading Update

Book #21 of 2026 was Summer Island, by Kristin Hannah. This was a sad story of family dysfunction but there was some reconciliation in the end.

 

Book #22 was Punching the Air, by Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam. This verse novel interested me for a couple of reasons. One was that a Facebook friend had her high school students reading it in a book club. Another was that Ibi Zoboi is of Haitian origin. And having just read The River is Waiting, I was especially sensitive to the subject of prison. After reading it, I learned that Yusef Salaam is an activist around the topic of incarceration, being one of the Exonerated Five. I enjoyed this and could imagine discussing it with students.

 

Book #23 was So Far Gone by Jess Walter and book #24 was A Guardian and a Thief, by Megha Majumdar. I'm putting them together not because of similar settings, since the former is set in the Northwest of the US in the present and the latter in Kolkata, India in the near future. But both books seemed at first to be fast-paced, fun adventures that would all work out in the end, only to turn much darker than I had anticipated. Both were brilliantly structured and I was glad I had read them, but neither had much in the way of hope or redemption. A Guardian and a Thief is climate fiction, a genre I have been meeting more and more in my reading. 

 

Book #25 was the non-fiction A Marriage at Sea: A True Story of Love, Obsession and Shipwreck, by Sophie Elmhirst. It would have been easy to romanticize this event which took place in the early seventies, but I appreciated Elmhirst's very matter-of-fact style. I felt as though I got to know both members of this couple that decided to leave everything and take to sea. It was a gripping read. 

Reading Update

Book #15 of the year was The Compound, by Aisling Rawle. This is about a reality show in a world that's maybe just a bit more messed up than our current situation, but not by all that much. On camera constantly, housemates compete for relationships and possessions by doing increasingly brutal things. I expected some kind of realization or redemption but there wasn't any. But it was gripping and hard to put down.

 

Book #16 was The Hunter, by Tana French. This was the second in a trilogy; the third one is coming out next month. Cal Hooper was a police officer in Chicago and he retired to quiet, peaceful rural Ireland. Of course it isn't quite as quiet and peaceful as anticipated. 

 

Book #17 was The River is Waiting, by Wally Lamb. This book was heart-wrecking. It was a book club read, and we were all plunged into despair by it. There's a horrible event in the first chapter and then the whole rest of the book shows the consequences of that event. There's a lot in the book about the prison system in the United States. 

 

Book #18 was Amy Tan's The Backyard Bird Chronicles, which consists of journal entries and drawings of what she witnesses in her back yard during the pandemic. I enjoyed this one enormously.

 

Book #19 was Spectacular Things, by Beck Dorey-Stein, a story of two sisters and how they manage to go on living when they lose their mom. It was an interesting peek into the world of professional soccer, too.

 

Book #20 also gave a glimpse into a world that was unfamiliar to me, that of internet influencers. It was Everyone is Lying to You, by Jo Piazza, mostly set at a conference for said influencers called MomBomb. It's a pretty gory and awful story, and then some of the stuff tacked on at the end made me a little confused and perhaps in need of the inevitable sequel? 

 

In my last reading update I said we'd be teaching online for a bit; it turned out to be only two days and then we were able to reopen. I am very thankful to be teaching in person, whether or not there's more time for reading, but I've also been struggling to catch up on the work the kids did/were supposed to do during the days off and the online teaching. And as you can see from these reviews, I've been reading a lot of dark stuff. I need something a little more cheerful next...