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#SOL24-25 No Fanfare

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

As I set the table for our family brunch, I had this moment of amazement: our youngest grandchild eats with a regular plate, a regular fork, and a regular cup. Everyone has a place setting of “adult-ware.” Wait – when did this happen? We have a bin full of children’s unbreakable dishes and tiny spoons and forks, and no one needs them anymore. We babysit the grandkids for a day or two each week, and somehow I missed this? How long have we been serving them with regular utensils? Right under our eyes, they have moved on. I wasn’t even aware that there was a ‘last time.’

There must be countless other examples; let me think –

  • all the baby clothes that no longer fit 
  • now they put on their own socks and shoes
  • they open their own yogurts and cheese sticks 
  • they know how to wash and dry their hands
  • when I am watering plants, they actually help me … whoa …

When we go for a walk these days, it’s the baby dolls who get strolled – and the granddaughters who do the pushing and caregiving.

Our babies have grown. 

I seriously don’t know when it happened, and I wish there was some way to slow it down. Yes, yes, I realize they are still quite little (ages 5 and 3), but this is astounding to me. 

From one stage to the next, time passes almost invisibly. No fanfare, no pushing, no demanding, it just happens, in the midst of living. 

I tried my hand at a triolet, to hold my reflections –

holding you close

oh my sweet dear one 
tender as morning dew
kissed by adoring sun
oh my sweet dear one
life’s magic being spun 
beaming light anew
oh my sweet dear one 
tender as morning dew

#SOL24-24 Fitness

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

How much effort would it take to pop into my son’s home gym for a few minutes when we go to babysit our granddaughters, one or two days each week? Wouldn’t this be a great way to add strength training to our walking routine?

This was our goal. We honed in on it around the new year, when one is supposed to be amending their ways. We stated the goal aloud to our son, who echoed our thoughts about the importance of strength training as we age. Everyone agreed, this was a good idea.

There the new exercise routine sat, in our imagination. We took no further steps for many weeks.

Late February rolled around, and we still hadn’t started to work on this resolution. My son offered to give us a little coaching, to create a brief routine that we might complete in 15-20 minutes. We dropped by his house on a non-babysitting day and he showed us seven basic exercises – five of which do not require special equipment and we are able to do at our own home, with hand weights. He recommended two to three sessions each week. 

Sure!

Not. 

What keeps getting in the way? I don’t know. It is HARD to start new stuff. 

On our long drive home from vacation last week, Tony and I agreed to revisit the goal, to begin doing the exercises. Starting the very next day, we would do the five that required no special equipment, and practice these at home. 

Wait, what were these five exercises? 

That tomorrow became tomorrow’s tomorrow’s tomorrow. Finally, I said: Let’s start!! I opened up the notes I had taken on my phone and tried to decipher the exercises. Truthfully, too much time had passed; we no longer remembered what each exercise ‘looked’ like. How were we supposed to hold our bodies for each one? 

In lieu of working out, I decided to make a project of my notes: Using the terminology my son used when he coached us, I looked up each exercise on the internet. I read as much as I could find on each exercise, paying particular attention to suggestions and advice for how best to hold your body. Then, I drew diagrams of our body positions in a small notebook, to keep with our weights in the basement. 

(Do you see how ‘academic’ I am about procrastination, successfully avoiding the actual exercises with a creative diversion?)  

In my defense, I moved my body into position for each exercise so that I might understand directions and draw a better diagram (although I did not hold hand weights). These are silly images, I think – but I am a person who needs visuals and they do help me. Here’s one for “squats with weights”:

I shared my new visual guide with my son, who said “This is great, Mom! Good job!” (One of those exchanges when I feel we have flipped positions, he the parent, I the child…how much more of this awaits, as I age?) 

Then he looked at the guide and said – Mom, I never showed you this exercise, #2:

(Him) This is very advanced, done by bodybuilders. Did you try this? 

(Me) No, I just drew it. I was wondering why I didn’t remember it. It did seem challenging.

(Him) Here, let me show you the original exercise, which is really more of a stretch, something you can do any time of day, and will help you ease your aching feet and calves. It is great for knee health. Really, this is a good exercise for you. You do not need hand weights.

He demonstrated the stretch and I took photos, and then, of course, I had to draw it out and add it into our exercise booklet:

He proceeded to look through the rest of my drawings and descriptions, and made a couple minor corrections. The exercise drawings are all set now. Nothing prevents us working out!

I wonder, how often do I overthink? How often do I make the simple unnecessarily complicated? There is real wisdom in that old Nike ad: just do it. 

Tomorrow. 

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#SOL24-22 Blooms

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

“Many eyes go through the meadow but few see the flowers within it.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

When I returned from my walk, I decided to take a slow wander through my yard and photograph all the pretty blooms of spring that are popping up. Most days, I come and go without stopping, and this is true of flowers, too. Let me stop and savor them for a moment – and share them with you.

My yard is bursting with lenten roses (hellebore), I love these so much. I’ve written about these before, how they are one of the earliest blossoms, often beginning in late January. Here, at the start of spring, they are full and luscious, standing tall, as if waving hello, welcoming all the other spring blossoms.

“Where flowers bloom, so does hope.”

Lady Bird Johnson

We’ve sprinkled the yard with daffodils, “a variety of varieties,” and often slip more into the ground each fall, in random locations, just because we can. They make the world merry, yes?

“If we could see the miracle of a single flower, clearly our whole life would change.”

Buddha

It is a bit early still for tulips, one small delicate yellow tulip has decided to defy that timeline. What a joy to find this little friend! This one is soaking in bright sun, and warmed up before all the others, I suppose.

We have planted pink and white hyacinths in a reckless “I have no idea where to plant these!” manner. They are hiding in corners, under shrubs, and, today, are winking a cheery spring hello. These are always a bit earlier than their cousins, the deep blue wood hyacinths, which are sending up buds and are probably a week or two away from full bloom.

The forsythia bushes are in their full glory today. I am so glad I stopped to witness these.

“If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.”

Frances Hodgson Burnett
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#SOL24-21 The Leak

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

How to describe the sound? So quiet it overwhelms, and wakes you in the middle of the night. It is a strange kind of echo, the sound of water flowing, a ‘white noise,’ steady and resounding, and you will jump from bed to investigate. What is that?!

While we were away on vacation, our next door neighbors watched our home for us, collecting any stray packages from the doorstep and making sure that all was well while we traveled. We have great neighbors, and we do this for one another whenever one of us is out of town. We checked in with them a time or two by text, mostly to send a braggy photo or two of our fun travels. Then they texted back their dilemma: 

They heard the sound of water running, yet no sign of water. They searched upstairs and downstairs, turned on and off faucets, double-checked the laundry area: no surprise water anywhere. 

We texted back immediately, to double-check their words – Wait, your house or our house? Who has this problem?

Ours is the frightened response of people who have “been there, done that.” We knew exactly what the problem was: a pinhole leak in the water pipes to one’s home. You hear water running, flowing, gushing. You see nothing. It is eerie. 

Good news for us, it is their home that is having the problem. Bad news for them, we were right: pinhole leaks. And, unfortunately, their leak is causing such a severe flow of water, the WSSC cut off the water supply to their home. I feel so badly that they are having this dreaded experience. 

All the water pipes in our neighborhood are quite old. Most of the homes were built between 1935-1945, and the pipes are galvanized metal. These do not age well, rusting out and forming holes. Water gushes into the ground, invisible to the eye, only something one can hear. The pipes must be replaced, which is a labor intensive task requiring the digging of a deep trench. (Here’s a question – is it really an improvement that old galvanized pipes are replaced with some new thick polyvinyl? We all know the wonders of plastic in our water…but I digress.) 

If the leak is in the part of the pipe between your yard and the street, where the main water lines are, that’s a county problem and they must pay for the repair. However, if the leak is in your yard…ugh….

If only one home hears the water flowing, chances are close to excellent that the leak is in that one yard. 

Our education about pinhole leaks occurred right before my husband’s 50th birthday party, when we had tons of people coming to the house to celebrate. You could see the usage dial spinning on the water meter, yet there was no evidence of water leaking inside our home. Our water pressure deteriorated. We called WSSC with fingers crossed that this was a county issue, but that was not to be. The plumbers dug an enormous ditch through the front yard, in order to make the repair. The repair took several days, straddling the birthday party. On the bright side, we were able to keep our water on, in the house; I don’t know that we could have had a party without it. The yard, however, was a disaster. I remember the plumber put sawhorses around the cavernous trench, to keep children away, and I believe I added celebratory balloons to these, for a chuckle.

Our neighbors didn’t have the added hassle of a bunch of partygoers coming to the house, but they had the terrible timing of hosting a friend from Texas. Hosting company for several days and no running water? Oh my. 

One cannot function without water.

We didn’t hesitate; we insisted they take over our home while we were away – use the kitchen, take showers, collect water, run laundry, whatever you need. It is now a whole week later, we are back home, their guest is gone, and their repair has still not been made. The plumber cannot work on the fix until the county issues a permit, and there has been a delay in acquiring this. 

The neighbors are eating lots of takeout, filling big buckets with water from our hose to run their toilets, and keeping their spirits up as best they can; it is good that they don’t have young children underfoot, I think. We gave them a spare key to our basement, and insisted they come and go as they need. This area of our home was more or less ‘an apartment’ for our boys as they became young adults; there is a full bathroom down there, the laundry room, and a separate door to enter/exit. Our neighbors always send a text before coming over, though we insist there is no need for a heads up – our children never did this for us, lol!

In the early morning, one might notice someone ‘sneaking’ out of our home with a backpack of clothes over their shoulder, slipping across the driveway into their own back door.  

I wonder if other neighbors are wagging their tongues at the sight?

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#SOL24-8 Brownies

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

FEELING COCKY

For years and years and years, I have baked homemade brownies, only homemade brownies, yummy homemade brownies. It’s really simple. I can be a little snooty about it, refusing to cook from a packaged mix.

I use the simple recipe on Baker’s Unsweetened Chocolate for ‘one bowl brownies.’ I always stir in a bag of chocolate chips as my final step before baking. (Is it possible to have too much chocolate? I don’t think so.) These are a crowd pleaser and I can basically make them with my eyes closed.

Be careful of what has become too ordinary for you. 

I set the oven, got out my bowl, and began to measure the ingredients. I got out a small second bowl to beat the eggs. I suppose Baker’s Chocolate Company would be disappointed in this second bowl, but one must put their own flourishes on recipes. Over the years, I have learned that I prefer to beat the eggs separately, rather than try to do so while combining them with the chocolate and sugar. 

Measure, mix, stir, yum. Everything is going well. I stir in the chocolate chips as the final step.

CONFUSION

Hmm. The mix looks a little different. Thicker. I can see the granules of sugar, and I don’t remember that being so before. I guess I haven’t made these in a long time. They’ll melt into yum in the oven, I reassure myself. 

Into the oven they go. I set the oven for thirty minutes and begin cleaning up the cooking mess.

Two minutes into their baking, I find the separate bowl of eggs. As in, sitting on the opposite end of the counter. As in, never stirred into the batter. Step 3!! Yikes! I rushed to the oven and took out the pan and prayed the brownies hadn’t cooked too much. Two minutes? That can’t be a big deal, right? 

I scraped the mixture into a third bowl. Bowl one was in the sink with soapy bubbles. Bowl two had the eggs. Oh my. 

I quickly mixed in the eggs – not at all easy to do, when flour and chips are in there, too. I’ve heard that you shouldn’t beat brownies too much…it makes them dry…ugh, there’s no escaping this now, I must beat in the eggs.

Done.

I popped them back into the oven, and set the timer for 25 minutes, so they wouldn’t overcook.

GOBSMACKED

I’m out of the room when the timer rings, so my dear husband turns it off. I jump over to the oven and speak to him with frustration – “Look! You turned off the OVEN, not just the timer! I may need to cook them longer.”

“I thought I hit the timer button not the on/off for the oven, sorry!” 

I open the oven door and it is cold. As in, no heat whatsoever. Brownies haven’t cooked at all. The oven hasn’t been on! What?!

I put the uncooked brownies on the counter, exasperated. I thought about my process . . .

CONTRITION

Oh my goodness. The mistake was TOTALLY MINE. Back when I rushed to the oven to grab the brownies and then mix in the eggs, that is when I myself must have turned off the oven. In haste.

(A quick temper will make a fool of you soon enough.)

I apologized to my husband for my snippy tone; it was not his mistake. 

I am beyond frustrated with these brownies, and with myself.. These ‘simple’ homemade brownies! My ‘go-to’ favorite! Oh my.

I turned the oven on. Waited for it to reheat. Popped the brownies back in. Again, I set the timer for 25 minutes. I double-checked that the oven was heated. I went back to my writing and waited for the timer to go off. 

In a matter of minutes, the room began to smell so heavenly. They were definitely cooking this time around.

EPILOGUE

Don’t they look delicious? 

No, they were an epic fail. 

Dry, crumbly, possibly overcooked. They were impossible to cut. 

One star for flavor.

Boo hoo. 

Served with ice cream, everyone was complimentary. But I knew better. (Still cocky, I guess.)

Simple recipes are meant to be simply followed. 

#SOL24-5 Crows

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

Bird and I were savoring the warmth of this spring day from the sandbox. Her shoes and socks were strewn on the ground to the side. The sand was clammy and cold, and the three-year-old was fervently working on filling containers and then flipping the molds out. A variety of bugs had taken up residence in the sandbox, during the many months we had left it closed up. I used a play shovel to remove them gently, one by one, at her insistence. The gentle part was my requirement, and I tarried a moment with each shovelful so that she might see these small beings up close in a benign way. They mean her no harm, I repeated, they are just living their lives. Lucky them, finding our sandbox as a nice home away from the winter cold. 

All of a sudden, we were greeted by loud and resounding bird chatter, with the most discernible voices being piercing caws from humble crows. Looking up, I witnessed swarms of crows – a murder, as it were – in the air above, wildly circling one another and the winter trees. My glance shifted high into the treetops, madly searching for the focus or goal of all this ruckus, and I saw the branches bustling and swaying, quite literally in motion. It was a scene from a Hitchcock movie, and I stood there transfixed. What in the world? 

Here is one snapshot of the crows in the tree

Quick – Merlin app to the rescue, what am I hearing? 

Rapid fire pulsating response from the wizard in fifteen brief seconds, highlighting over and over: Fish Crow and American Crow, with Tufted Titmouse, Song Sparrow, and American Robin sprinkled in, once or twice.  

What is the difference between a Fish Crow and an American Crow? I need to read up on this; all the crows look very much the same, from this distance. It seemed to me that one large tree held about a dozen wiggling, busy crows, and a neighboring tree held another dozen or so, with other crows flying about, darting between the two trees. All the birds were calling out harshly, creating a huge commotion. 

Were the American Crows in one tree and the Fish Crows in the other? Or were they all mixed up together? How do I tell them apart? Was this some sort of argument? Who offended whom? Or were they worried on behalf of someone else? Was someone’s nest being harmed and they were all there to support the injured party? Or ward off the interloper? 

We went back to our sandbox play, not knowing any answers. Then, perhaps ten minutes later, all the crowing stopped. It was peaceful again. The trees were emptied now. Where did the crows go? How did I miss their departure? 

Think of that adage – “nothing to crow about,” as in, being less than worthwhile. Hmm. I think this is rather condescending to crows. Today’s tumult was very unusual. I have no doubt that there was a real reason for their uproar. They were obviously seeking to be heard and understood, in fact, they were demanding to be.

Clearly, there WAS something to crow about. I just didn’t know what. How do I know it’s not meaningful? 

crow full

fish crow 
American crow 
fuss crow 
fume crow
this way 
that way 
a real crow’s nest
crow over 
crow about
swoop crow
loud crow
this is the way
crow flies
definitely something 

though I know 
not what
A little chalk art found in my neighborhood park.
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