Writing Beside Me Posts

It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

So many voices yesterday, so much noise – one of those days when this introvert caves inside herself, yearning for quiet alone time, which appeared only as a mirage throughout the day. It is only now, the day after, that I am in my own thoughts and able to reflect. 

Cue a song, Mama said there’d be days like this.

No, please, no songs.

I am my own worst enemy at times. It was I that said, Hey! We might have batteries! when Bird discovered that her Elsa doll had an empty compartment on her back, hidden deep under that icey blue gown. At three years of age, Bird is all about dressing and undressing, whether herself or her dolls. I don’t know that I had ever witnessed Elsa in her bare plastic birthday suit. I never knew she had batteries – fascinating! Elsa is a hand-me-down from older sister; I had never heard the doll speak. Why didn’t I clue in that there might be a reason for this silencing of Elsa? There we were, looking for batteries of the right size, finding a small screwdriver to open the compartment, loading in the triple A’s, and voila! Big smiles all around. Push play!

Hi, I’m Elsa of Arendelle, she squawked, followed by the ear worm song, three simple words, two chirpy times: Let it go!! Let it go!!

Over and over and over again. Bird was absolutely delighted. Talk about pushing my buttons.

A painful while later, Bird undressed Elsa’s partner in crime, Anna, in search of a battery compartment. There wasn’t one! I didn’t know whether to do cartwheels at the absence of this, or advocate to Disney corporation for Anna’s right to speak. 

Yes, it was a noisy day with little Bird; this is but one stark example. Days with grandchildren are always livelier than my ‘normal’ life. Then, we were in the car driving her home, dropping her off. Bird clutched Elsa in her carseat and heeded my request to keep Elsa silent. When Mom reached in, to unbuckle her daughter, she inadvertently touched the on button on the silent one and

Hi, I’m Elsa of Arendelle. Let it go!! Let it go!! echoed throughout the car.

The look on my daughter-in-law’s face! Ha! Hours later, here I am still chuckling. She said “SOMEONE put batteries in Elsa!,” and Bird said joyfully “Yes, Mama! Elsa talks!”

(After three years of not speaking, I think this is an achievement for Elsa.)

From babysitting to school theater : we hurried to a 6:30 p.m. showing of Peter Pan Jr. at my old school. One hour of excitement and enthusiasm by the whole student body. I’m not exaggerating when I say ‘the whole student body’ – the cast includes students from second grade through middle school. The school is proud to perform theater that is intentionally inclusive, student-led, and student-centered. The elementary students perform in chorus and dance ensembles, while the middle schoolers carry the lead roles. Students manage the backstage, lighting, microphones, promotional materials, ticket sales, everything. The school has been abuzz with this production for weeks on end. The play was offered four different evenings, and last night was its final showing. 

I do wish the sound system was better – there were moments when I couldn’t discern what someone said or sang; however, joy was radiating throughout the auditorium. I was overwhelmed and awed by seeing so many former students, all at once. I retired in June 2020, and even my little three year olds from that last year of teaching were there on stage as second graders. So many hellos, hugs, and good wishes. My high of the night: witnessing a formerly nonverbal, special needs student on stage singing in a chorus – there are not enough words to describe this beautiful emotion.

Elsa, Anna, Peter, Wendy, too, too much. A very, very good ‘too much.’

How happy I am to be in silence today.

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It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

Growing up, I was the only girl in the midst of four brothers: One, Two, me, Three, Four; it was a lucky start to life, I think. I could offer a ‘slice of life’ on each brother, but today I think I will focus on the oldest (let’s call him ‘One’). He and I were recently on vacation together; we have stayed close all our lives; our spouses get along beautifully, too, and we all enjoy exploring new places together. 

Of course, over vacation, we went down memory lane together, sharing stories. 

He was always kind to me and lots of fun. I was four years younger than him, and he would let me tag along; he never seemed to mind me hanging around. Whenever we moved somewhere new, One would investigate the neighborhood. We were a military family, meaning we had a migratory existence – moving around from place to place. One was always curious about everything. Often when he discovered something worthwhile, he’d tell me about it and we’d hop on our bikes and go there together. An example – I have fond memories of being alongside him to watch the drawbridge go up and down, when I was six years old and we moved to Mystic, Connecticut; this bridge was about a mile from our home, and he took me there regularly because we were both fascinated by the feat. 

One taught me so many card and board games, and he won 90% of the games all the time ( I think I was the only sibling that didn’t get frustrated by all this losing). I quickly learned to avoid Monopoly with him; I would lose resoundingly and it seemed pointless to engage. He remembers me tormenting him at chess; I had such a hard time learning this game that I began to mirror his every move with my pieces – which kind of takes the fun out of it, yes?

I still laugh at the memory of my mother and I coming home from grocery shopping at the Navy commissary and he and brother Two had climbed up on the roof of the old Victorian we lived in, pushing out an old skylight; oh, how my mother screamed. Yes, One was always a risk-taker.

The most ridiculous fight I remember having with my oldest brother was when I was about ten years old, and I was searching for something in my room. (What was it? Well, obviously not important enough for me to remember this many years later, but I really needed it at the time.) I remember he stood in the doorway and  sagely advised me “you will find it in the last place you look.” I yelled back in exasperation – “NO, I WON’T!” I searched my dresser drawers and found it in one – and I realized immediately what he meant, that the search was over. He said “See?” and I opened several more drawers and faked the search continuing. 

There was a lot of pain in our childhood, growing up with a distant, workaholic father and a mentally-ill mother, and I believe I was truly buffered from a lot of hurt by my older brothers, especially, One. We shared so many interests and I have many positive childhood memories of being with him. Thank goodness for him enjoying my company. Yes, my oldest brother made me feel safe, seen, and loved. 

All you need is One. 

Oldest Brother

reading me passages
from his comic book
making me feel seen

card games, board games
though Monopoly never took
he held all the green

teaching me strategies 
of chess, bishop and rook
capturing my queen

so clever, so funny
his laughter a hook
quick wit in his genes

meandering bike rides
wandering discover look
always happy, never mean

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It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

A couple times a year, my sister-in-law and I slip away together for a ‘girls’ day,’ a day of fun. We enjoy visiting flea markets, in particular, and that was our pleasure this week. We visited the “Vintage Vibe Market,” a spring fair with varied vendors at a local fairground in Howard County, Maryland. 

We both enjoy crafts, especially recycled crafts – or ‘upcycle,’ when something old is turned into something all new. In reality, we are almost professional browsers – neither of us needs another thing for ourselves or our home, and we have our ‘looking’ down to a science:

We walk through the booths and take snapshots of things that catch our eye, and then we re-evaluate at the end. Do we really like it? Do we really want it? Do we really need it? Like I said, we don’t need anything…so the final answer is typically no. 

However, the browsing is great fun! I suspect you can learn a lot about a person by what catches their eye at a flea market. Let me tell you more about myself through things I adored:

Bumblebees made out of metal, to hang in the garden, those are so cute…decorative beaded chains to display – well, where exactly? … hmm… stuffed carrots, for Easter? what would the granddaughters response be to this? aren’t they precious, though…wait, a tic-tac-toe game created in an Easter theme, that’s a fun idea…birdhouses carved out of wood, to hang in the garden….

I was fascinated by this crafter’s handiwork on an old cabinet door. I saved (hoarded?) my old kitchen cabinet doors as painting surfaces for my granddaughters…I wonder if I could play around with one or two myself? This design was lovely, I thought. But where does one put such a piece, when the artwork is completed? Looks great in a flea market.

This quote on a tea towel had me chuckling. There are tea towels and wood signs for any message one’s heart desires. There are too many things I want to say to settle on one message, I think.

It was a full and fun day of browsing – good company, good conversation, good bric-a-brac, too. Plus, we showed great restraint and came home with ideas and not more junk for our households – well, I fib. I did buy one silly thing for my husband:

Fungi for my fun guy! Yes, this silly doll is really for the grandchildren… at least I didn’t buy two, right?

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