Author Archives: sara holbrook

About sara holbrook

Poet/Author/Educator

February 1, 2006

two months later

Could that be? I haven’t written here in two months? The holidays came and went in a complete blur — Michael and I were working non-stop on our new book for Heinemann (Outspoken, fall 2006) and beside family times, we were in such a rush. We had fulfilling, inspiring visits to Eastlake Middle School and Bay Village Middle School to gather our student samples. Thanks to everyone.

I’m just now remembering why I haven’t checked in here for a while — it is because I have so many things to write about that it seems overwhelming. But I have to try and get my blog back on track — along with the rest of things. I feel as if I just got out of a cast having shipped that book out. Whew.

Little story from yesterday. Michael and I went to Kaiser for immunizations to prepare for our trip overseas and met a fellow and his wife — he is 88 and she is 84. They go to Kaiser to the large waiting area everyday to walk (she is mostly in a wheelchair). He is a retired cartoonist and was with the Cleveland Plain Dealer for 30 years. They wander around and chat with people and when they see a child waiting for the doctor, he draws the child’s picture. Charming and chatty, but not bothersome in the least.

Oh, and I am learning to swim. Yep. After all these years. Oh, I could swim to the side of the pool, but I could never get the breathing right to swim laps. Well, I think I got it. I can swim 500 yards in 35 minutes and it is my goal to complete that in 20 minutes by this summer.

That’s all for now. I will do more catch up later.

November 28, 2005

Ajax and his new window on the world.

November 28, 2005

Ajax

Ajax is an unusual name for a dog, but Ajax is unusual. He is asleep under my desk, slept in the bed last night, cuddled up to whomever he could get close to on the sofa all yesterday. The cats are a bit snitty about his arrival, but Hector is taking it in grudging stride. Undoubtedly, Ajax must feel some resistance, but he seems to be tenacious about fitting in.

We took a walk this morning and when the leash brushed one ear, now partially healed 3-4 weeks after his mutilation by some mean man in (we think) a baseball cap (since he is afraid of Michael in a baseball cap), he yelped in pain. Doctor Becky says he has been patient about the treatments to his burned ears, never once nipping at her as she routinely cleaned and medicated him over the past weeks. She speculates that lighter fluid of some kind was first put on his ears, the extent of the burns was so severe and localized.

In Greek mythology, Ajax was a rival of Hector’s, but then Ajax traded his belt to Hector for his sword. Unfortunately, it was this belt that was later used to drag Hector to his death, which tore up Ajax so much that he fell on his sword in fine ancient fashion. Hollywood rewrote the story (like that wasn’t dramatic enough?), making Hector the one who done Ajax in, so to speak.

We will attempt to re-write the story one more time, only this time Hector and Ajax will live as comrades side-by-side, happily ever after.

November 28, 2005

and thomas sits!

November 28, 2005

four out of five —

November 27, 2005

just thinking

I thought about exercising today, but I didn’t get rolling. I thought I woke up with a head cold, but it never really took control. I thought about reading Don Quixote, but I didn’t get to it. I thought about cleaning the kitchen, but — same story. Maybe I just needed a day to think. Or maybe the cold was in my vessels if not in my nose, turning my blood to sludge so that I couldn’t move.

Tomorrow all five grandbabies will be here AND a new dog arrives. He is a charity case from Michael’s sister’s vet clinic. Some evildoer set his ears on fire. He is healed though somewhat fringy in the ear department and looking for a good home. Hector, our rat terrier mix, a stray I picked up at Home Depot (where else does a smart, homeless dog go to find a home?) has been missing his Boston Terrier buddy Mike since about this time last year. We have not met the new dog and are hoping for a happy, smooth transition, which hardly seems likely with 5 kids under the age of 6 in the house. Whew.

If today was a day for thinking, tomorrow looks to be a day of chaos. My Uncle Bill told me we should always rest when the battle is far away, so we have the strength to face whatever is coming. Something triggered a slow down in me today.

Now, I’m thinking maybe that was a good thing.

November 24, 2005

Watchful

I’ve been thinking about this word for three days. I saw it in an article in a magazine and have since composed at least three maybe decent but different poems about the word “watchful.” None of these musings did I write down. All the words are now lost. Except the one I kept my eye on — watchful. I need to write it down.

I had an email from a friend saying that she doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving because of the native American experience. Of course, she said, of course. I guess I can see that, but I LOVE this holiday. Friends and family get together, take maybe a minute to be grateful for another year on the planet. The stores shut down for a day, we actually have to talk to one another as people and not as consumers. How many cultures have harvest festivals, I wonder? Doesn’t the multicultural aspect of harvest celebration make it okay? Please? The world is torn apart, gratitude is a carpet we stand on to give us solid footing when we reach for hope, that thing with feathers. So elusive.

We need to be watchful of gratitude least it slip away like an unwritten poem leaving us empty-handed.

November 21, 2005

Chapter 3 Don Quixote

I’m thinking that I don’t want to make a separate blog entry for every chapter, but truly, this reading is so complex that my eyes tend to glaze over before I reach the end of the sentence. I need to incorporate comprehension strategies I’ve learned from strategies that Work and other books. I’m using post it notes so that I don’t have to write in the margins of this fine book.

Chapter 3, zoom in on the landlord, a wag. What’s a wag? It’s someone who cheats widows (cold), ruins maidens (nasty), and swindles minors (takes candy from babies). He has been around and has street smarts. Naturally he is quick to pick up on the fact that Quixote is crackers, but the landlord decides to humor him and agrees to do the official dubbing, since the errant knight thinks he’s a governor. In fact Quixote thinks he’s hanging with royalty but in fact his fellow companions at the inn are wenches and a pig gelder. Meantime, Quixote’s gear is still on the watering tank and he’s wandering around in his shirt and helmet with the green ribbons (how’s that for an image?). Along comes some carrier who wants to give his team of horses water, so he moves the armor off the watering tank. Quixote sees this and clocks the guy with his lance. He doesn’t smite him dead, just unconscious. After this Quixote is all full of himself and when another carrier comes and commits the same crime of touching the armor, he smites him, too. The other guests start to freak out and rain stones on the half cracked knight. The landlord can’t wait to get rid of this nut case and dubs him quickly and unceremoniously in a field and Quixote starts speechifying again, but the landlord can’t wait to get rid of him before the rest of the guests tear the inn apart. He doesn’t even charge him for the night, he just shows him the door and tells him Godspeed, which is medieval for get lost.

November 21, 2005

NCTE When Teachers Convene

When teachers convene, the subject is books. The writing, reading, sharing, politics, philosophies of books. The passing conversations in the hallways, the talk over dinner, the convention exhibitors and sessions are all about books, how to make them happen, which are the best and how do we get more people to grow into, from and through books. From poems no longer or more memorable than a sneeze to complete works that have lived through centuries, teachers come together and for what? For books.

Katie and I presented together for the first time, which was so cool. New and natural at the same time. We were so into reviewing and revising our presentation on the way from Cleveland to Pittsburgh, we missed the exit and drove to Monroeville before we realized our mistake. Loved hearing the droll humor and inspiration of Frank McCourt whose impact was not muted by the caverous room or projected images. Lots of friends to hug and new projects to discuss.

Three days in Pittsburgh at NCTE, friends, colleagues from across the country and a virtual train load of books. Quite a weekend.

November 18, 2005

Chapter 2 Don Quixote

Cervantes seems to be telling this story with a wink. Our hero is wearing a patched up helmet held on with green ribbons tied in impossible knots, can this be anything but comical? Quixote mounts his steed and leaves from the back door of his yard on the road to his first day in pursuit of his grand purpose. He’s thinking though that what could be considered knightly might only be criminal if he is not officially dubbed by an official dubber. He’s all worked up about this as he approaches a medieval Red Roof Inn. He sees this dump as a castle; being delusional has its advantages when it comes to touring Spain on zero dollars a day. He wants to be greeted by banners and trumpets, instead he is met by swine and strumpets, so naturally he is happy as a pig in mud. He’s dead tired and starved and wants a trout, but the only thing around is troutlets and he can’t eat them because of the ribbons covering his face. The “fair maidens” feed him through a reed while he claims he lives to serve them (this is a common male/female theme). His convoluted philosophies totally crack them up. The innkeeper is a pudgy old guy who welcomes him in and takes his armor (except for his shirt and helmet) and sets it on top of the watering tank. Quixote thinks that this guy is a high governor of the castle, so he hands over his gear, and continues to strut around the courtyard, still all bent out of shape about his LOD (lack of dubbing).