Wednesday, May 25, 2016


Annabel (Annie) has just finished seventh grader. Her parents are both college professors, her mom is a helicopter parent who schedules every minute of every day. This summer, though, is going to be different. Annie has just finished a horrible seventh grade year, complete with fake friends and panic attacks, and has been promised a schedule free, demand free summer by her parents.

On her first day at their summer home, Annie meets California. California is staying with her grandfather, who is ill, on his farm.  Years earlier, when she was a teenager, California's mother had a falling out with her father and left the farm. California is convinced that if she can just find her mother's prize show ponies, who she believes are roaming somewhere on her grandfather's farm, her mother will return to the farm and resolve the relationship with her father. Annie agrees to help California with her search, and the two embark on an epic summer of adventure and friendship. When he summer takes an unexpected twist, Annie is forced to learn new and unexpected lessons.

People are comparing this book to BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA and WALK TWO MOONS. Definitely worth adding to a shelf of books about friendship or loss.

Review copy provided by publisher.

Friday, May 13, 2016

Poetry Friday

On Saturday, June 11, 2011, International Space Station astronaut Ron Garan used a high definition camera to film one of the sixteen sunrises astronauts see each day. This image shows the rising sun as the station flew along a path between Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and Buenos Aires, Argentina.

The Sun

Have you ever seen
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone–
and how it slides again
out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance–
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love–
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
or have you too
turned from this world–
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?
I love, love, love my work. Have loved it for a long, long time. Absolutely know that there is nothing I would rather do. And yet, at times (like right now), I wonder about the sanity of myprofession. When yet another piece of paperwork comes across my desk. When the district website, where I am supposed to enter data that is due on Monday, goes down for the umpteenth time in the last two weeks. When we have to give up another day of instruction to give yet another assessment that tells us something we already know. This poem, from Parker J. Palmer's website, spoke to me this morning about my place in the universe.
Violet Nesdoly is hosting Poetry Friday this week.

Saturday, April 30, 2016


I've been writing poems all month with Mary Lee. 
Tonight is the last one. 
I adore my dear friend
And she is an amazing poet
but this is hard work for me
and I'm glad it's over. Phew!


 a snap happy clicker 
"Say cheese"
and  there is time
to move closer
suck in the gut
 lift the chin
smile broadly

but occasionally
the camera is too quick
smiles do not have time to fix
a sliver of doubt 
a gleam uncertainty
are captured for all time

Not all families
take happy pictures

(C)  Carol Wilcox, 2016

Friday, April 29, 2016



Really, my love?
You don't remember
how we slipped rings
onto each other's fingers
in front of Judge Hobbs
that day some fifty years ago?
Or how I licked the sticky frosting
off your fingers after we cut the cake?
How the tin cans on the bumper
rattled as we drove away
from the church that afternoon?

Well, perhaps you remember
me carrying you across the threshold
or the musty wet-dog smell
of the rug in our motel room
on our honeymoon that weekend?
Do you remember how your father
bought dinner for us that first night?
His eyes tears as he handed me
the folded twenty-dollar bill
our first night as man and wife,
"Have a steak on me, tonight," he said.

Do you remember laying next
to me in the bed that first night
or ten thousand after that?
How our bodies fit together,
knew each other,
created life,
loved again.

Today's our anniversary, dear.
Surely you remember us?

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2016

Thursday, April 28, 2016


"Round and Round"

Can you see me 
there on the left
in the white sailor cap?

I'm just back
from traveling the globe
on a navy frigate

Why would I care
about watching
three cars go round 
a miniscule 
dirt track

when I have moved in
much bigger circles?

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2016

Wednesday, April 27, 2016



Folks always said
I was the smart sister,
I'd be someone.

College professor?

I absolutely knew 
they were right.

And now I've proven it

I'm headed west
to be someone…

A farmer's wife!

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2016

Tuesday, April 26, 2016



He says we need
a photograph of us
headed west
to stake our claim and so

I plop the stetson
on top of my pompadour
slide the rifle across my knee
rest my hand on my hip
put a little swagger
into my smile

the slight gap between us?

I wonder
whether it will
as we forge
this trail.

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2016