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Jules Jacob's Blog

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I tweaked and messed around with my poem, Dream House, for twenty years before submitting it for publication last year.  It was rejected twice and accepted on the third go round by Grey Sparrow Press.  I submitted my poem, Jellyfish Dance, the day I wrote it in January. It was also accepted by Grey...
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Jules' House
2011 Insane Gardener Summer SeriesI posted a different profile picture as a reminder that you should not, under any circumstances, volunteer your garden for a public tour three years in a row.  The cumulative effort was exhausting.  The garden looks great but at some point on Saturday afternoon I...
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2011 Insane Gardener Summer Series “If I lived in Missouri, I’d build a tornado shelter,” my mom said on May 1st while visiting from Littleton, Colorado. I told mom we felt pretty secure because we had a crawl space as well as an interior laundry room under the staircase. I’ve stayed in the laundry...
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I Give Shopping Therapy a Whole New Meaning For some women, shopping is therapy. For me, not so much. Take a recent trip I made to my local department store. I headed towards the entrance with my heart pounding and my head spinning, massaging my right shoulder and glancing at the piece of paper in...
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The Binnacle Spring 2011
My copies of the Spring 2011 Edition of The Binnacle arrived. I’m delighted with the quality of the small, sturdy ninety-five page book. It's streamlined and stylish.  A classy touch was the matching note card from Editor Gerard NeCastro and The Binnacle Staff thanking the twenty–three authors for...
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The Accused
2011 Insane Gardener Summer Series Two weeks ago I found holes and scratch marks in one of our square foot gardens.  Three recently planted Quadrato D’Asti Giallo heirloom peppers lay on top of the ground; their tender white roots dried into toothpicks for Barbies.  I stomped to the compost pile,...
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The night before last I slept fitfully, half awakened by several vague, anxious dreams. In the midst of the dreams, a unique thing occurred—an original poem flowed into my semi-consciousness without a break, as if it had been coagulating in my brain for twenty years. I was aware enough to think, I...
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2011 Insane Gardener Summer Series I was searching for a shade tolerant spiller for the containers on my back deck. The trailing, variegated green and white beauty in the corner of the greenhouse caught my eye.  “Melissa, what is that?” I asked the nursery owner. “Tradescantia.” “Trade-what-ia?” ...
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I’m pleased to announce my 2011 Summer Blog Series—The Insane Gardener. The IG will be posted on a strict schedule...every other time I feel like it.  As a Horticultural Therapist and Master Gardener, I’m familiar with the therapeutic benefits of gardening and it’s a growing trend, especially...
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I rarely get paid for writing. I don’t write for free, though. I write for personal fulfillment, recognition, publishing credits, to increase my literary journal collection and the prestigious, imaginary awards. I didn’t have to roll out a slightly entertaining blog two or three times a week twenty...
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I hate my garden nemesis a little less after learning the creative non-fiction tale of my armadillo exploits was chosen for publication in the spring 2011 edition of The Binnacle.    The Binnacle’s editor, Gerard NeCastro, said he enjoyed my work and I should be proud because they received nearly...
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At 1:55 a.m. Saturday evening, the loudest clap of thunder in the United States shook our house like a 4.0 earthquake.  (I haven’t been in an earthquake; it might have been a 5.0 or 6.0 magnitude.) I nudged RJ. “Did you feel that?” RJ mumbled. (The next morning he said the thunder became a bomb in...
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We're babysitting our sixteen month-old granddaughter for seventeen days. It’s been six days but the number of days doesn't matter when each day feels like a year. If you don’t hear from me in a few weeks, it’s because I’m recuperating in the old folks home.    Eden’s an easy toddler; she rarely...
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My brother and I were adopted in 2008 by Ken Pitman, the man we’ve called Dad since 1967. I was forty-eight, my brother was fifty and two years had passed since our biological father passed away. The judge said we were the oldest “children” waiting to be adopted he'd seen in his courtroom. Only a...
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Red Room’s Creative Challenge for this week is to blog about how a natural disaster affected my life. I wasn’t going to enter—but changed my mind because I haven’t been greatly affected by a natural disaster. I thank God, Yahweh, Allah, The Universe, serendipity or whatever for not having a...
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