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cold rain at Christmas

December 21, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner

simple christmas tree

Cold rain

falls in sheets

coating

city sidewalks.

Everyone

sleeps late—

kids, husband.

Even the dogs

nestle

beside me.

Four days

til Christmas.

talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

“Go to sleep till the summer comes again.” 
― Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

the dark side of writing

August 16, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner

A few days ago, I threw myself an old-fashioned pity party.  Just me and my faithful schnauzers.

And potato chips. 

What began as a morning of productive writing spiraled into an afternoon filled with thoughts of what-the-heck-am-I-doing-with-my-life and what-makes-me-think-I-can-write-anything-worthwhile? 
writer's block grace grits and gardening

It was ugly. 
And it all started because I let someone get under my skin. 
A simple comment brought back a flood of insecurities and second guesses. Add to this a lingering sore throat and ear ache plus another 100+ degree day, and I became a crazed and disheartened shut-in wallowing on the couch.

Writing can be lonely and dark on the best of days. Staring at a blank sheet of paper, seeing self-doubt instead of words.

I’m only as good as the last thing I wrote. I don’t remember who said those words, but I understood it, especially on the day of my pity party.

creative writing

And then it began to rain.
In Dallas.
In August.
A steady soaking rain.
From the porch swing I watched fat drops splatter on my tired ferns. The trees took notice as a breeze moved through, dropping the temperature instantly. The entire neighborhood exhaled.
I grabbed my journal and wrote about the rain. Its smell and feel and the way the steam rose from the sidewalk. A few houses down, kids laughed and splashed, delighting in the rareness.
And I remembered why I write.
talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.


Perhaps I write for no one. Perhaps for the same person children are writing for when they scrawl their names in the snow. -Margaret Atwood 

“Nothing is wasted on the writer. –Crescent Dragonwagon
The Sky is Crying, Stevie Ray Vaughan

J is for Joy!

April 11, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner


O
to
see
that
first
spring
blossom
Relief of
a cold snap
after a long
Texas August
Wheat harvest
Smell of cotton
Poppa Rolla Pizza
Pink sunrise and
steaming coffee
Girlfriend time
Vintage things
Amazing Grace
Dog greeting
Home cooked
meals Wine
Creating
Writing
Family
Trees
Lake
You
Us
♥
talya

 


“Scatter joy!” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Musical Pairing:


Joy To The World, Three Dog Night

Note: This poem is a snowball losange – each line of text is one character longer than the prior then shrinks one character shorter to the end.

 

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Hi! I'm Talya Tate Boerner. Writer, Reader, Arkansas Master Naturalist / Master Gardener, Author of

THE ACCIDENTAL SALVATION OF GRACIE LEE (2016)

GENE, EVERYWHERE: a life-changing visit from my father-in-law (2020)

BERNICE RUNS AWAY (2022)

THE THIRD ACT OF THEO GRUENE (coming 2025)

Recent Ramblings:

  • Sunday Letter: May 25, 2025
  • Sunday Letter: May 4, 2025
  • Sunday Letter: Rainy Day Edition
  • Spiderwort: my love-hate relationship
  • Sunday Letter: March 23, 2025

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