SOL25 July 29 THEY Are Lucky

Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers Forum for encouraging me to focus on

the small moments of life.

Summer vacation, from school, is an agrarian society phenomena with roots in the days when children were essential for harvesting on family farms.  In spite of a few attempts at "year round schools " eight week-ish summer vacations have endured. For many, it is a long hot, boring summer of video games and time spent inside; for others it's bus rides to camps. For the lucky ones, it is a chance to meet new people and explore new worlds. While I maintain a position that rethinking our school calendars would be a good idea, my own very lucky grandchildren are thriving in ways I could never have imagined as they explore new-to-them venues.

Love, feed goats, chickens,

Nurture, growing plants,
Plant beans, flowers

Harvest the ripe ones

Man the farm market.

Craft magnificent stories,

Create intricate lanyards,

Swim that lake,

Learn pickle ball, golf,

Try a sleepover,

Catch a book

THEY are lucky ones.

July 27 Reckoning

Like the many baby boomers out there, this grand dog is growing older.  He still chases squirrels and can bark like a puppy when the dreaded mail carrier visits, but his activities are limited and he naps a lot.  He's been a loved dog, but I bet he has some regrets (like getting kicked out of doggy day care) as he reflects on his life. 

I thought about him as I read Robert Reich's interview this morning a small part of which I am abstracting and sharing here:

The title of your memoir ... refers to your argument that your generation failed to strengthen democracy, failed to reduce economic inequality and, generally, failed to contain “the bullies.” 

What went wrong? We took for granted what our parents and their parents bequeathed to us .... The so-called greatest generation gave us not only peace and prosperity but the largest middle class the world had ever seen. What I try to understand is how we ended up with Donald Trump. Trump is the consequence, not the cause, of what we are now experiencing. He is the culmination of at least 50 years of a certain kind of neglect. And I say this very personally, because I was part of this failure. It is a reckoning that is deeply personal...

Yikes, as a member of that baby-boomer crowd, sadly, I am part of the failure, and this reckoning is painful and personal.  

The stock market is booming

Never seen before numbers but

We failed 

To strengthen democracy, reduce economic inequality. 

To contain bullies,

We took for granted

Peace, prosperity, decency

July 26 Mass Disinformation

Last night, as a cool breeze attempted to disperse the hot sticky air making room for cooling rains, I sat on the porch reading When the Jasmine Grows, yet my mind wandered into diverse thoughts about what is worth fighting for as well as right and wrong. My thoughts were far too complex for a Friday night after a long, emotionally hard week with many worries. Yet, I returned to the book, set in North Carolina during the Civil War, compelled to find if/how the family found peace and a future. I finally climbed into bed, eyes exhausted, mind still reeling, finding sleep in bits and spurts making many text to real life connections between life then and now, in a country divided by conspiracy theories, court challenges, and debates on human decency. 

I woke up exhausted, still thinking about Joetta and her proclamation that the war was not her fight and about the danger in ever-changing labels to describe people and ideals (Karen Fredricks). I cannot write a song to express my thoughts (Billy Joel, Pete Seeger) nor can I create or capture and image  that people will long remember.  Yet, even though I should be running the vacuum, I cannot be silent. So here is a short poem with lines borrowed from a quote by Mel Young in today's (7/26) NYTimes article about a trip to Scotland as today's attempt to share concerns of not-just-Americans.

I’m horrified by 

The normalization of cruelty, corruption, 

Mass disinformation.

Mel Young, Scotland

July 24 Do What's Right

“Knowing what's right doesn't mean much unless you do what's right.”  T. Roosevelt

As I approached, I noticed the "temp plate" on the big Audi, indicating this was a "new" SUV.  It really did shine in the early morning sunlight.

Moments later, a young man, perhaps 8 or 9, emerged eagerly from the car, opening the door with intention and power so that its brilliant blue door scraped confidently against my once-new sedan. The sound was enough to evoke a clear revoke from the driver of the new vehicle. "You have got to be careful, this car is brand new," she invoked in a way that the passenger hung his head. "You scratched my car!" She continued her rebuke in a language that clearly the child understood, but I did not, never looking at me or acknowledging the clear blue mark on the side of my car, and began heading away.

In the past, I would have sighed and moved on, with a new to me scratch (and dent). However, I am painfully aware, of late, that keeping quiet is not the best policy when faced with bullies. So, I asked if she had noticed my car? 

Without missing a beat, she turned on her heal and offered only, "Your car is old."

"My car was scratched and dented by your door," I implored as she turned her back towards me, and tossed $20 towards me. "It's not so much the dent that bothers me," I foolishly began as she turned and picked up her money.

"I'll have you on harassment," she said confidently with the same bully stance I hear on the news every day filling me with fear for the bullying behavior that paralyzes victims and for those children who will likely become a new generation of bullies. 

So, thinking of the T. Roosevelt quote, I yelled over the cars, "An apology is warranted." Of course, I didn't get one.

SOL25 July 22 Not a Fan of Pink

 

Thank you to the Two Writing Teachers site for 

encouraging this slice of real life!

"Take a deep breath, hold it," she said on cue,

Stepping out of her box in her magenta scrubs,

I took a deep breath, the last one for 20 minutes, or so.

Even though she did direct me to

"Relax," as if that was possible,

Scantily clad in a bubble-gum wrap,

Stripped of reading material, 

Like those worn holding room People magazines,

Waiting with anxious-sisters-of-all-ages in

Cherry-blossom seats wrapped in salmon wallpaper.

"Not a fan of pink," I thought when I finally took a breath.

July 21 Ethical ELA Fireflies

 Today's Ethical ELA prompt asked us 

to recall a moment in nature 

when something wondrous happened.

Fireflies

"I remember watching fireflies 

With her," she mused, 

Sitting in front of her house, running after them.

My eyes welled, memories with her, 

Watching butterflies, dragonflies, and fireflies,

Dancing in the moonlight in the big backyard, 

Celebrating life at the Falls,

Sipping camping "medicine" around the campfire.

As we settled into a rhythm,

Chairs rocking ever so slowly

On the porch, on a warm summer night,

So many years later, I shared memories,

As they, on cue, 

Put on the best show.

Rising gently, but with determination

A swarm of fireflies

Grateful for a warm night, an audience,

Celebrated family, summer nights, memories.

Ethical ELA July 20 I Wish

Today's Ethical ELA prompt asks us to consider 

places we have stayed in but not lived in, trips we have taken, 

and people we once knew, but no longer know.

I could go in so many directions...

I wish we could have shared

That winery on the top of Mt Etna

Tidbits of cheese among volcanic ash or

Prayed in an aging church with

Pews infused with generations of hope, despair or

Held on tight so the wind did not

Blow us back to America before

We celebrated in the grotto of Castlemola

With waves interspersing our hopes and dreams.

But, at the fork in the road,

we lost our way so,

I went without you.

Ethical ELA: Stiches for the Future

This morning, the host of Ethical ELA encouraged us to write about memories 

stitched together, as in a quilt.

Until, the twenty aughts,

We celebrated families, birthdays, holidays.

Too much food, lots of laughter, so many memories,

Reminders of love, rather than gifts, optional.

I wonder if she knew these butterflies, flowers,

Now, nestled in a worn, stained apron,

Stitched in love, so long ago, 

Would still hang in my hallway?

Daily reminders to savor special moments,

While the future is not promised,

Embrace the present, celebrate your people.

SOL25 July 15 Not Always Perfect

 I am both in awe and inspired by fellow Slicers.

I have been following Kim Johnson's memories of her Dad and

like a good writer, she has me remembering the wisdom

my Mom shared in her last days.

My mother's vision of perfection as a woman came not from her depression-era mother, who struggled to provide food and clothing, but from images plucked from magazines and movies of crisp aprons, gleaming kitchens, and immaculate children. It was an image that was hard to maintain when you lived in a tiny mobile home, but she embraced it as her mission.

My own vision of success included a career-I-loved, relatively-healthy meals, and not-always-perfect, but happy children in a home that was just clean enough to be safe. While you could not eat off our floors, you could usually find a shirt! It too was an image that was hard to maintain!

During the last month of her life, a new school year started with all the stressors and challenges, my first two grandchildren arrived, three days apart, and my long-marriage dissolved into oblivion! My mother knew about the first two situations; I did not share the third. 

"You know," she said in a weak voice, "mothers always seem to have a sense about the stress in their children's lives, which aren't always perfect."

I think about her words as I watch, from afar, a social-media-hyped-image-generation with incredible careers, fabulous families, and magnificent homes; certainly stressors, and clearly hard, nearly impossible to maintain even if you had a maid, a nanny, a landscaper, and a trust fund!

#sol25 July 8 You Should Get Going

I am both in awe and inspired by fellow Slicers.

I have been following Kim Johnson's memories of her Dad and

like a good writer, she has me remembering the wisdom

my own Dad shared with me.

Have you ever made a tough decision? 

I had planned to take my her on a celebratory trip before starting her new job, in a new-just-for-her state. Our plans had already morphed from elaborate to just a few days at the beach, due to my dad's decline and the advice of our hospice nurse. We had reservations for a few days before she would be consumed with her new responsibilities, and I had thrown a swim suit and shorts into a bag; but, I was not optimistic. The last few days had been a significant downward spiral and my mother was pretty sure the end was near when we talked in the early morning.  "He will not wake up and will not drink," she said sadly. She did not think I should head to the beach. 

As I drove to their house, I said a prayer, but I did not ask for my dad to get better from his multiple health issues; instead, I asked for guidance or a sign about whether I should or should not go. 

As I walked into the door, my Dad was sitting at the table, reading the carefully folded NY Times and drinking a cup of coffee. "Did you catch Maureen's (Dowd) column," he smiled even though his skin was as gray as stormy sky and his eyes were glossy and sinking. We talked about the column and the weather and he offered me an easy exit that took my breath away, "You should get going so you can catch some waves today." 

The trip had not been part of any conversation for at least a week, and I will never know if he had somehow remembered, my mom had prompted, or the hospice nurse had asked if I was going.

He never said, "Don't forget to read Dowd's column when I'm gone," but I he clearly planted that seed. He never said, "Catch waves with your children while you still can," but I certainly felt his message in the Herculean effort it must have taken to make a trip to the table. 

Confident that this was my sign, I headed to the beach to celebrate the new chapter of her journey with hope for a few days in the sun, before the next chapter of my own.

 

July 6, 2025 Plans That Did Not Happen

 

I was in a pretty low mood when I ran into Trader Joe's Grocery. I had plans for the day that were not going to happen and the horrific news from Texas was weighing heavily on my heart as I pulled into the checkout line.

The Mama ahead of me was emptying her loaded cart at break-neck speed, but her little ones in the front to the cart clearly had plans to escape that were not going to happen, just like me!  I made a smiley face and then a silly face and then did bunny rabbit hands to distract the little one, and it worked. Her other children quickly came to watch my distractions and for just a few moments, we did a sort of silent, Simon Says game to improve everyone's mood right there at the front of the store as if that had been our plan all along! 

In mere minutes we were all smiling and it was my turn to check out. I asked the cashier to bill me for a bag as I had purchased more than I planned; however, the Mama nearly jumped over the counter to offer two bags to me. "Please," she offered, "take these extras, I have more than enough bags, and too few hands" she grinned as she offered, her bags, "Good Shabbos," she offered sincerely as my frozen pizza went over the scanner. Her crew waved until they reached the door, our newfound friendship forged over plans that did not happen. 

SOL25 July 1 If You Want to Change Behavior

Yelling, punishment, and threats may cause short-term changes, but never results in long-lasting change.

I've thought about bullying as threats about tariffs and immigrants swirled in the news. I believe many people in my generation considered bullying to be a "normal" part of life. 

Bullying existed in schools, schoolyards, the military, boardrooms, and in relationships where those in power repeatedly and intentionally use words and actions to cause distress or to make people feel helpless. (Webster).  Bullying HAS life-altering, negative, sometimes fatal, effects.  Thus, in 1999, Georgia enacted the first anti-bullying legislation and all states followed.

I've also thought about a subset of bullying, scapegoat management, where an individual or group is targeted as a means of managing others or to deflect the blame from those in power. You likely remember teachers who sent a targeted student to the principal's office or out in the hall quieting the whole class! Lifelong anger and resentment is all that happened.

If you want to change behaviors, provide positive rewards to people (and businesses) for doing what you want them to do. Reward them for growing businesses, working hard, paying taxes, raising families, and respecting the rules of society. 

I usually steer clear of politics when teaching, but the news is ripe with examples of what not to do!  I'll offer an online course!