Joyous Jottings: Published Poems and a Reading #TuesdayTidbit #Jottings #Events

Joy is a fluffy gray and white cat with a pink nose and pink paw pads. The fur is long and mostly gray with white paws, a white chest, nose and white down the middle of her head. Her ears are pointed up, and she lies with her paws sprawled out in front of her in an open formation. Her head looks to the right of the screen. She’s on a brown wooden table. Behind her is a white wall and a basket of fruit.Photo Resize and Description by

Two Pentacles Publishing.





Hi, this is Joy, Abbie’s robotic cat, and I’m writing this post today. Actually, I’m dictating it to Abbie, and she’s writing it for me. This is a lot easier than me trying to write with four paws. Plus, she won’t have as many mistakes to correct.

I like living with Abbie, even though she ignores me most of the time. But when we snuggle in the recliner, she sings me this song.


You are my Joy, my precious Joy.

You make me smile every day.

I hope you realize that I adore you.

Please don’t ever go away.


When she sings that, I know I’m loved, even when I’m left to my own devices in my chair. Abbie thinks I can’t hear her because I only meow, purr, turn my head, and such when she touches me or when the light changes. But I do hear her, even though I’m programmed to only respond when I’m touched. She likes to pretend I can hear her, and she talks to me when she’s in the room. I like that.

Okay, enough about me. Here are a few announcements Abbie wanted me to share with you today. For starters, four of her poems appeared in the September 11th issue of The Weekly Avocet. She posted them last week, but in case you missed them, you can click here to read them. In this post, you’ll also find a link to where you can download that issue of the magazine and links to where you can hear her read each poem.

Two of her poems will appear in the fall quarterly issue of The Avocet. I’m sure she’ll post them here after they’ve been published.

Abbie’s poem, “Dad, Fats, and Me,” won third place in the Dancing Poetry Contest, sponsored by Artists Embassy International in San Francisco. You’ll have a chance to hear her read the poem during a special event this Saturday, September 24th at noon Pacific time. You can click here to watch the event live.

“Dad, Fats, and Me is my favorite poem. I love the way Abbie stomps her feet and sings when she reads it. I think her feet might be too big. Oooowwww! Okay, forget I said that. But be sure to tune in this Saturday at noon Pacific time. This is bound to be great!

Well, that’s all I have today. YYYYAAAAWWWWNNNN! Everybody, have a purrrr-fect day.


Abbie wears a blue and white V-neck top with different shades of blue from sky to navy that swirl together with the white. She has short, brown hair and rosy cheeks and smiles at the camera against a black background.Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

Photo Resize and Description by

Two Pentacles Publishing.




Abbie here. If you haven’t already done so, please subscribe to my email list to receive my twice-yearly newsletter and other announcements. This is a one-way announcements list, meaning the only messages you’ll receive will come from me. So, you can rest assured that this list is low-traffic. Send a blank email to:  You’ll receive a confirmation email. Reply to that with another blank message, and you should be good to go.


New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Copyright 2021 by Abbie Johnson Taylor.

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.


The cover of the book features an older woman sitting in a wicker chair facing a window. The world beyond the window is bright, and several plants are visible on the terrace. Behind the woman’s chair is another plant, with a tall stalk and wide rounded leaves. The woman has short, white hair, glasses, a red sweater, and tan pants. The border of the picture is a taupe color and reads "Why Grandma Doesn't Know Me" above the photo and "Abbie Johnson Taylor" below it.Photo Resize and Description by

Two Pentacles Publishing.





Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.

After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?






Saturday Song: Your Feet’s Too Big by Fats Waller

One of my earliest childhood memories is of listening to Fats Waller with Dad. One of my favorite tunes by this artist was “Your Feet’s Too Big.” I wrote a poem about Dad and me listening to this song together, which I’ll include below the video. You can click beneath the poem to hear me read it. Tune in tomorrow for a post about lessons I learned from Dad through music.



Dad, Fats, and Me


As the piano’s base notes

imitate baby elephant patter,

I stomp my six-year-old feet in time,

while sitting on the couch across from Dad,

who is sprawled in his easy chair, his nose in a book.

He looks up, chuckles.


As Fats Waller sings no praises

to a woman’s over-sized feet,

I stand, stomp around the den.

Dad sings along–I giggle.


As the song crescendos

with blaring saxophone and trumpet,

I lift my feet,

bring them to the floor with purpose.


The record has other songs:

“The Joint is Jumpin’,” “Seafood, Mama,”

but my little feet always stomp in time

whenever I hear Fats say, “Your Feet’s Too Big.”



Author Abbie Johnson Taylor

We Shall Overcome

How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

Click to hear an audio trailer.

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