#sol24 Out From Under the Bleachers

  

I've sat on my share of bleacher seats

On glorious spring and fall afternoons,

In the scorching heat of summer playoffs,

During snowstorms when we dug out the seats,

In dreary gyms in random towns.

I recently became the owner of a previously-loved

Portable watching-sports-chair!

To be honest, the bleachers, if present,

Are increasingly uncomfortable!

To be honest, getting up from the ground,

Is a little more challenging.

So, I was a bit surprised,

And yet not surprised at all,

When I saw this new invention

Resting proudly on the sidelines

So that little ones can rest their loins,

As they await their turn

To kick the ball around the field.

Yes, you too can have one of these

Saving your littles from intense bleacher discomfort

Or the ravages of the hard ground.

Amazon, Dicks, Walmart...

I feel as if I was living under a rock

Or perhaps under a bleacher!

#sol24 November12 Slice of Perspective

 

The air was pungent with smoky residue from the hills as I tried to rake the leaves, alone.  I was annoyed as my eyes burned and my throat was tightening even as I my mind wandered to those years of when an orchestra of eager-if-not-always-happy-rakers created the backdrop for a full afternoon of laughing-complaining-leaves-in-hair-working-fun. 

Clearly, the sky was dusky and the fall spectacular of crunchy leaves was not what I was expecting until I remembered that I was indeed the lucky one as I could rake my leaves!

"We watched the line of flames barely 200 yards from our house holding our breath," she explained.  "I really wasn't sure we would have anything left, but the path they bulldozed held up and kept the fires at bay." 

"They lost everything," my cousin's voice cracked as she tried to explain, "just hours after they left." 

There has been no rain in more than a month here and in California (an many other places as well.)  Mother Nature's beauty has been muted by the loss of one of her super-healing powers, rain. 

My slice today, is a slice of perspective. 

#sol24 November 5 Our Voices and Our Votes Matter

The parking lot was full, a rarity, and so I drove around thinking about the power of news and social media hype to bring people to the library even before the real Election Day! After finally parking, I noticed two ladies, with walkers, slooowwwly making their way towards the door.  

I thought, for a moment, about passing them and securing a place in the line ahead of them. Instead, I asked if they were coming to vote and held the door as they sloooowwwly entered.  Then, we both stopped in awe of the line of voters wrapped around first the local memorabilia and then all the way around the circulation desk! 

Their collective sigh morphed my own sigh and displaced my thoughts of leaving. I thought of the energy it had taken for them to come out to vote. I thought of the nearly impossible challenge of standing in what was clearly going to be a long and winding line.  

"How about your folks sit here and I will get in line.  When it gets close, you can join the line," I suggested. 

"Thank you," they said quietly and slooowwwly they made their way to the bench while I slooowwwly waded through the sea of voters to secure a spot at the end of the line of people clearly on their lunch break and others clearly frustrated by the long line.. 

I had lots of time to think of past elections of voting at 6AM  before a long commute and at10PM as the doors were about to close.  I really did not remember ever having lines like this before! 

I really did have plans to circle by the grocery store, but instead, after voting, I walked slooowwwly towards their car, surface talk about the incredible line and the equally incredulous weather.

"You know, I used to just cancel out my husband's vote most years, but this time, while I miss him terribly, my vote counts even more," she sighed.

As I headed to my car, I was hoping I would remember to vote (by mail) when my turn to move slooowwwly came in the not-too-distant-future, because, our voices and our votes matter.