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Eleanor Shirley, dba Dialogic Dimensions, Shenandoah, IA (2026)

04/22/2026

It’s Earth Day!
What do you do on this day to celebrate and love on our Mother??? My hubs and I attended a ribbon cutting for our town’s newest community art at our local library. It is quite the nod to a shade tree and the graceful bonnet to the outdoor amphitheater.

Then we planted flowers at a local city park. Later will w**d and thin one of our golf course flower beds, finishing off the day with clean up and prep for our local hospital foundation community gardens. We will have seed packets and bedding plants to give away, then some community frenzy of food and drink!

IF WE DON’T CARE FOR OUR PLANET, WHO WILL? Enjoy the music~🎶

04/10/2026

Attended a discussion today on the future of education, especially in rural America. Some things are a bit disconcerting. Some more hopeful.

We know the societal norms are shifting but I hope they are positively impacting students, families, and communities. The contextual factors seem to be flattening out. Not sure if that’s good or not.

As a former educator in various contexts, I’m curious what others think about educational choice, resources being diluted/diverted for public education, parenting and a child-centered/choice environment, the challenges of social-emotional, behavioral development, using exclusive online learning platforms, home schooling, accountability to who/what for non-public learning approaches. Just curious.

01/11/2026

Thinly veiled in the shadows of winter.

12/04/2025

West side : East Side
COLD Super Moon

11/28/2025

November began, wasn’t that just yesterday? And now it is almost time to change the calendar to December. I think it curious that paper photo calendars are still very much in demand with all the smart devices we have with integrated calendars. How trite to even think time flies yet it sort of does—whoosh—flip the calendar photo of the November turkey scene to a December fox running through a field white with snow. And suddenly we’re transformed into the end of the calendar year.

Each day, with its natural rhythm, comes up with the sun and goes to sleep with the early sunset. (Or if you’re a shift-worker, the opposite may be true.) While the natural rotation of the earth definitely has its commonalities there are days that get out of sync, lack planning, or despite planning end up wild and frenzied! My favorite days are those full of serendipity — just seize the moments for what they are and at the end of the day reflect on the wonder of it all.

I’m a planful person all year but especially from Halloween to Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day, I try to change up my planning but…

The winter holidays have their own unique rhythm and surprises. Even in our little southwest Iowa farm community, I’m stymied when searching the public library’s community calendar (http://Shenandoah.lib.ia.us/) and attempt to decide what event to attend, especially when some overlap on day or time. And these events are an addition to the routine commitments I have. It’s a marathon of sorts!

Yes, I enjoy the holidays—Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanza, etc. Some don’t and I accept that. But the lights, decor, cozy fireplace, music, baking, food, parties and special celebrations are all wonderful to me. Wrapping up in a comforting throw or sweater while sipping a hot beverage or toddy just says “ahhhh” to me. Admittedly, rearranging the indoors and outdoors with holiday lights and symbols of the holidays takes a lot of time and creates disarray for a time. Confessing to a measure of consternation, I am a person for whom mess is truly messy and “less is more.” I’m married to a wonderful guy who fancies Clark Griswold as his Christmas twin. I delight in his delight which makes all that disarray disappear.

Most of all I love the opportunity to get together with family, friends, neighbors—-community. The human in me loves the human in you. Remember this season that the gift of people in our lives is what makes a holiday. No matter your age, race, religion or values, sexual orientation, ethnicity, ability, political affiliation, it is you the people who create an equal opportunity holiday!

Happy Holidays! May peace reign in our hearts, our homes, our communities, our country. May we all do all we can to promote peace, harmony, and love around the world.

10/03/2025

I gained 184 followers, created 1 post and received 7 reactions in the past 90 days! Thank you all for your continued support. I could not have done it without you. 🙏🤗🎉

09/10/2025

Cravings
By Eleanor J

In the world of food
I may crave that which isn’t
Or is not easily at hand
And I salivate
Until that which is not
Becomes an is.

In the world of words
I crave letters
Not yet formed
Configuration and rhythm
Propensity limitless in a spark of thought
A feeling nearly felt or a knowing almost known.

In the world of nature
I crave the outdoors
Skies violet and grey
Sunsets orange, gold, rose, and red
Botanicals bold and delicate
Vine, stalk, leaf, bark, brush-the-cheek breezes
Walks and hikes have been and will be.

In the world of music
I crave listening
Notes bent or clear, dissonant or harmonic
Creative and inspiring phrases
Lyrics lull me elsewhere
Universal and unifying communication.

In the world of humanity
I crave peace
Harmony from country to country
Curiosity from culture to culture
Seeking to understand people to people
Embracing diversity, beauty, and differences in ALL.

sated
sentient
serene
soothing
soul

I am satisfied

05/27/2025

Memorial Day 2025 here I sit inside looking out at the light rain and misty outside. Whenever this holiday weekend is full of clouds and drear, it reminds me of the tears that have been shed and the sadness for all those who have passed before me, people I love and miss.

Most of us crave sun and fun with the onset and first holiday of summer months. But like teaching a child how to delay gratification, Mother Nature betimes has her own plans for postponing the promise and reward of warmth and sizzling summer. Without putting on the rain jacket to get out despite the drippy day for moist, fresh air and instead settling into a favorite sit indoors, I am content absorbing the thought of peaceful moments and musings about my family members and friends who are in eternal repose.

I think of my Dad’s quirky snort when he’d have a real laugh going on and his blue eyes twinkled. He left us too early, I was just 29, and still find myself wondering what he would think of me and my station in life. And I vividly recall Mom’s wide, toothy smile and her fingers like silk gliding across the piano ivories, singing, “What a Wonderful World.”

Some years Memorial Day was spent with Grandma and Grandpa Rawlins, Mom’s parents. Grandma would have turned out an angel food cake made from scratch with 13 egg whites (she preferred the baker’s dozen) and a powdered sugar drizzle atop that shimmered white on white like pearls in sunlight. Fresh strawberries were a favorite complement. Grandpa Rawlins would have been outside, if he wasn’t in the field or taking care of livestock, likely sitting on the old porch swing that was handily attached to a big shade tree right outside the back porch door. He would probably have taken his cigarette papers out of his overalls chest pocket and tapped a specific amount of Prince Albert (aka “P.A.”) from its tin into the cigarette paper. With a quick lick of his tongue on the paper’s edge, it would hold together, he’d pinch the end, then light it up with a match. The smoke would immediately billow almost covering his face then furl up and curl out to nothingness. Grandpa had a look on his face that portrayed a simple man who derived a unique satisfaction from his smoker’s routine from start to finish. He called me, “Honey girl.”

My Dad’s father, Grandpa Wallace Shirley, was definitely an old man to me—80 years older than I. He lived with my Dad’s brother and wife and 3 children. Grandma Shirley died when my Dad was a boy so I never knew her. Grandpa was nearly 55 when Dad was born. (Ironically, my Dad was 55 when he died suddenly of heart failure.) Grandpa usually had a cane in his hand when walking to steady himself as needed. I recall him dragging that cane outside the in-motion car’s rear door despite our protestations. He would have gone into town with us to take him to the bank or for a miscellaneous errand. The driveway to the Shirley homestead was relatively long sliding to the south just off “the bluff road.” Maybe Grandpa felt uncertain of or didn’t like the speed of the car as it slowly crawled up the driveway. It was not unusual for him to open the car door and slide his cane along the gravel until we came to a stop. Typically, Grandpa would be murmuring, “Are we stopped yet?” My favorite memories of him, though, were reading to me and often rocking me in his heavy oak chair singing to me, “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean.”

These holidays are special opportunities for remembrance and reflection. They speak of good times with family and though our bunch was and still is far from perfect, it seems comforting to recall past personalities and family traditions as the mist outside finds its way inside to my eyes and quietly graces my face.

03/06/2025

The second year for this beautiful amaryllis bloom! It’s taught me a great deal about paying attention to beautiful things.

My Dad has been gone since 1983, the anniversary of his death is three days away and always a tough time of year. When I was a young mother, Dad was gone but his voice has stayed with me. “Eleanor, take care of living things…the dead will take care of themselves.” I’ve always interpreted that to mean not just human beings but to plants and animals. Take care where care is needed.

My stepfather has a green thumb. He’s a pro at gardening. He gave me this gift, Dec. 2023, the ubiquitous amaryllis-in-a-pot with the little cardboard label sitting on top indicating its color. I watered it per instructions and It bloomed February last winter. It was pretty but not a big wow factor. After the bloom died off, I stuck the bulb in my flower bed on the sunny morning side of the house. It grew leaves that were quite tall. I stuck the amaryllis bulb next to the poinsettia* that our new neighbors (we had just moved in to our new home), had given us after Thanksgiving in 2023 just before we moved in. But, problem being water! We couldn’t water except with buckets as our town has declared water restrictions off and on for over a year. [People, water is a BIG deal. We need to pay attention to that precious resource!]

Regardless, I filled buckets with precious H2O as we were allowed to water by hand. No hose, no sprinkler system, no filling pools or washing cars in the driveway. I gave the amaryllis bulb and its poinsettia buddy a drink from my bucket every few days, especially when it was most hot and dry.

But I digress—this writing is about my friend, amaryllis, and its prolific and robust disposition, standing proudly tall and erect, speaking with glorious cherry red color as if it has been telling me, “Thank you! You paid attention to the invisible life I had in me and I get to visit, grace your home another year. I know things have been bleak and difficult for you many times this past year. I wanted you to know you possess life, color, and beauty in your life. Had you not attended to living things, as your sage father advised, I wouldn’t have been here to show you my gift of beautiful color. Both your father and your stepfather have given you much. Do not forget the gift of life. Live fully and beautifully and believe in the cycle of creation.”

May you all experience color, beauty, and life! We need it now perhaps more than ever.
* The poinsettia story at another time. 😌

12/22/2024

The winter holidays are here! I find myself enjoying the season thus far but also aware that I have a bit less zip this year to do all I’d like to do. Not unwell, or without enough strength, organizational skills, and motivation, I’m missing my childhood and what it was like as a child this time of year.

I believe my current malaise has to do with snow! Perhaps a bit of weather historical research would prove me wrong but I grew up with snow in December in Southwest Iowa. From what I remember it was rare not to experience a snowy white Christmas. According to a recent Weather Channel email, an inch of snow by 7:00 a.m. on December 25th constitutes an official white Christmas. Curiously, In the UK only a few flakes in the air make it a legitimate white Christmas.

Life here in the almost exact center of the U.S. still gives us some crazy cold temperatures. It’s winter officially as the Solstice arrived in the bleak hours of early morning today. Here in the greater Omaha, Nebraska, area we expect—yet often despise— “The Cold” and its icy bite in winter months. Our situation in the past years has been cold and dry, oddly missing any moisture, particularly in the form of lovely, lofty, stark silver white, sparkly snow.

Snow is magical! Conditions need to be just right to make a snowflake, each one unique in its design. Snow offers a sense of calm, a feeling of wide open emptiness, a blanket of mystery making all things it covers just an idea, a fact hidden from the bright light and diamond shimmers of white. A blank canvas to write our memory upon, snow is a cleansing cloth to wipe away all things dark around and within us.

But if it’s going to be bitter cold I’d prefer that majestic cloud of Creation’s artistry, a lilting chorea and passion play of snow, snow, snow to wrap our minds and hearts in its mysterious appearance.

Snow beckons, indeed demands us at times, to stay put, stay safe from the slippery potential on walkways and highways and instead calls us to pay attention, peer out our windows, shiver in moments of flaky wonder, hold a cup of warmth, sit by the fire, light a few more candles, and dream of days past when a white Christmas was nature’s gift to us.

Happy Holidays to all wherever you are. Pray for peace everywhere and a white Christmas— even if it’s just in our memories.

07/21/2024

My husband is a retired English teacher. There is something I would like to reiterate from a recent comment he made when a sports announcer said “verse” incorrectly.

We often hear live sports announcers, TV sports reporters, and all ages and variations of athletes say they are playing such-and-such team “verse” another team. It is “versus” not “verse.”

It is apparent that there is a fair amount of illiteracy among the presumed literate. Even some professionals appear to have missed out on some critical aspects of proper language.

Yes, learners learn at different paces and to varying degrees of proficiency. That’s why teachers give students a grade! It is a measure of student proficiency. But outright misuse of words can really grind on some of our brains (like my husband’s) because we studied and learned there was a correctness to be achieved. There were standards that were laid out and accepted by the field in which they were developed. Teachers instruct this correctness in the classroom context and they have expectations that their students will achieve the highest understanding and application of the subject matter.

I think I had very literate parents and great teachers. I was read to as a child even though we had very few books at home. The newspaper was a critical part of learning to read and learn about the world in which we lived. Living in the Midwest, yes, there were colloquialisms but I don’t recall them including incorrect language.

I was taught “wash” (not warsh), and “versus” (not verse), “realtor” (not re-la-tor), “library” (not libary), jewelry (not jewlary), etcetera (not eggzetra).

In my career some professional colleagues even mixed up “anecdote” and “antidote!” With texting and acronyms abounding, the English and grammar I was taught will undoubtedly morph in coming generations. Perhaps it already has. And spelling correctly? You can bet that will be based on how the word sounds rather than what the Oxford or Webster dictionaries gave us.

Cursive writing is not being taught in many schools today. Shorthand is an archaic method of capturing speech and transcribing it into documents. Using a keyboard with full set of typing keys is also passé.

What all this portends to some of us is that there is a dumbing down of human intellect and proper and respectful ways of interacting. The sad part of this issue is that it’s become acceptable. What will the future bring to our new and youngest learners?

Eleanor Shirley, dba Dialogic Dimensions

04/22/2026

04/10/2026

01/11/2026

12/04/2025

11/28/2025

10/03/2025

09/10/2025

05/27/2025

03/06/2025

12/22/2024

07/21/2024

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