Sunday, November 11, 2012

co-inkydink #1 (featuring editor/poet Peggy Dugan French and her print pub Shemom)


   Blessings for a small, relatively unknown print pub such as bear creek haiku especially includes connections and friendships established with other editors/poets and their publications.  It, indeed, is a small, co-inkydinkish planet (especially in literary and related realms). . .                
    respected, much appreciated poet/writer/editor Peggy Dugan French and her pub Shemom: perhaps I saw Shemom listed among someone else’s credits - perhaps not - nor am I sure who first sent poetry to whom for consideration - (I think I did).  Peggy is a ‘California girl’ whose parents grew up on Minnesota farms.  They met and married in the same town I grew up in (Kellogg, Minnesota, pop. 500).  Many of Peggy’s cousins still live in that area.  And, her younger days included friendships with good people from the Sand Hills of Nebraska, an area where I was born

                                  (note - all the poems herein are Peggy’s)

  tending rows of corn                                               forever grateful                   
     old John Deere                                               their Minnesota roots
     kicking up dust                                                my honored heritage

(another note! - in the latest issue of Shemom, #43, a center section titled My Heritage is, simply, lovely - if you choose to send her $4.00 for a copy, cool beans!)

from ‘About Shemom’ -

“Shemom would love to hear from you.  If you are inspired to contribute art, poetry, essays, commentary, or any other creative ideas that you may have, please send your contributions to the address listed below.”  (son Forest Dugan French is the pub’s cover artist)

Peggy French
2486 Montgomery Ave
Cardiff CA   92007

or, email her at pdfrench@cox.net

Peggy’s bio - 

Peggy Dugan French is a California girl with Minnesota roots, she savors a walk on the beach or a stroll around a farm in equal measure.  She loves cats, cows, flowers, and vacationing in Big Sur.  She will always buy the biggest Christmas tree that will fit into her house.  She is married to her soul mate and they have shared a long and varied road together.  She has worn many hats over the years, but being a Mom has been one of her greatest adventures, her kids think she’s the cats meow and this makes her smile.  She has also been the Office Manager for her husband’s business, Director’s Assistant at her daughter’s dance studio, homework monitor, daughter, sister, friend and the Editor of Shemom since 1997.  Her kids have now flown the nest and although she does miss the hum of a full house, she is enjoying the next leg of her journey.  One of her greatest pleasures is to sit around a dinner table with her family sharing food, wine, music and conversation. 


John Grey, Jane Stuart and Kelley Jean White (my longtime friends), Cathy Porter, Lucille Gang Shulklapper, Judith Partin-Nielsen (my wife!), Sharon Fotta Anderson and many more favorite poets have homes in Shemom (and in bear creek haiku and, of course, in oodles of other fine print and online homes)

    OK, while getting a first co-inkydink blog post established/initiated/grounded, I have pounded drums and led a loud, rugged and hopefully noble horn section on/about Shemom and its editor.  Let’s have Peggy’s poetry just speak from its own heart and spirit -


  man of the fields
  his gentle hands
guided a generation
                                         

                                                                                                                crowded airport
                                                                                                                up on my toes
                                                                                                                searching for you


      backyard tea party
        across the table
granddaughter’s sweet smile


      angel on the tree
          once again
my mother enters the room


             3:30 AM
       calling my name
glad to be a light sleeper


        honor guard
          folded flag
my treasure possession


                                                                                                                           every day a working day
                                                                                                                           a Dad’s work
                                                                                                                           never done


  night and day
before and after
         you


       well worn ring
           the years
slipping through my fingers


   grandma’s pot holders
   all the perfect stitching
stained with sunday dinners


summer campfire
our old memories
   in the smoke


                                                                           early morning chill
                                                                           grandpa
                                                                           hunched over a pail
                                                                           in harmony with the holsteins


   forever grateful
their Minnesota roots
my honored heritage






  • above poetry a brief selection from the enormous and elaborately gilded spirit of 
Peggy Dugan French -



co-ininkydink #2!  I feel it fermenting, stirring. . . (no, it isn’t a gastrointestinal issue) - knee deep, it will be a poetic vortex centered around the passing of Dave Church and of Big Joe, with George Held, Barbaric Yawp, Stephanie Hiteshew and other innocent bystanders smattered, I mean, included - come to think of it, maybe I should warn them first -

see you in a moment  - ayaz daryl nielsen
















  

    





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