SOL26: June 2 Messy, Mismatched and Hidden

Today, I am sharing bits and pieces of my life with my Slice of Life community, During the rainy Memorial Day weekend, I began looking critically at the old photos. This one, time stamped 2-18-04 stopped me in my tracks, even if it did not make it into the "keep" pile!

In the days long ago, before social media suggested we post images of picture-perfect homes rather than real, lived in ones, I for some unknown reason snapped an image of the corner of the kitchen where I wrote lesson plans, student reports and my dissertation in a flea-market-chair on same rickety kitchen table where my Grandmother "set up house-keeping."  I filled my corner with a hand-me-down desk-top computer and the benches that once held my young children and used them to hold paper, books, and research papers. 

Looking at that sparsely decorated corner from a 2026 perspective, I realize I was not even a little bit concerned about the mismatched decor or lack of creature comfort in that space! There were no need for a theme or color coded bookcases in the background in those times before zoom turned our home spaces into curated images.  In fact, that purple image on the green chair was actually a pillow, covered with an old sweatshirt, used to "support" my back sometimes and prevent my "writing sores" at others!

 I could almost hear the usual evening noise of the dishwasher, nearby, doing its thing and the television, in the other room, as I got to work on the task that needed to be done before bedtime, as I concluded this image had no family or historical significance leading to its destruction. Those were thegood old days when real life was messy, mismatched and hidden from the world! 

June 1: Jeremiah

 

My blogging friend, Kim Johnson, who blogs at Common Threads, hit a nerve with a proposal to share family photos in June. I have been doing a bit of cleaning myself and have been looking critically at the old photos I want to keep. I like the idea of making a digital copy and sharing, if only for my own benefit.

This first photo is me, a few months old, with my parents. Based on other pictures from that day, I think it was at my Aunt's apartment in Manhattan. Most likely it was a weekend and a summer day in an apartment without air conditioning; yet, my dad wore a dress shirt and tie!

As a farmer who grew up and went to college and became an engineer, he wore a shirt and tie, most of the time. Growing up, his farming roots emerged at times as he planted a few tomatoes or roses; but the expected dress code for engineers, even if they were out in the field surveying, was what is now considered dress up! 

He's on my mind as I write this, as last night, I went to a dinner to honor my daughter-in-law, Sue  for directing the revival of the Rockland Community Farm Network, non-profit, organic, educational farms in the same town where my dad helped design and build the dam that provides their water! Honestly, I know he was smiling in the heavens to know that farmers, now, can dress up in suits and ties and attend fancy dinners.  

I also suspect that he would be thrilled to name that new baby goat on the farm and might even suggest some derivative of Jeremiah, such as Jeremy, appropriate for that new little babe. 

Dad

Known for one-liners 

That quieted the ruckus

Pursued his dreams, 

Kept his roots and beliefs,

Would be proud of those

Full-circle moments.

!

May 29: Poetry Friday

On this last Friday in May, the promise of long, sun-kissed days and lazy, summer breezes is evident; yet, there is a pervasive, underlying tension in the world that colors everything we see and do and makes my OLW elusive many days. My poem this morning is a sort of found poem from headlines in this mornings NY Times the bold words in each line. 

Uncertainly hangs, like pesky clouds while 
Power-charged words, like bombs, bluster, 

Sow confusion, mixed with promises, threats, 

Veiled truths, bold lies intertwine with news of

Corporations skirting 40 billion in taxes, 

In an era when we all agree 

Rules are not enough 

As we struggle with questions, like why

Groceries are so expensive?

Then I come to Where do you turn 

When you need advice? 

How about a poem? 

Where Do You Turn When You Need Advice? How About a Poem?

May 29: Imagination Station

Not all that long ago and yet a lifetimes ago, I wrote hundreds of heart-filled letters, knocked on many doors, and called lots and lots of people in an effort to raise funds so that we could build this state-of-the art, for its age, playground in our community. To be honest, my kids were already on the outskirts of playing on such structures, but a friend was chairing the movement, I went to a meeting, I became the financial chair, and the rest of the year was spent searching for money! 

Trust me, I was already busy teacher and mom with a do-it-yourself kitchen renovation happening.  Adding this to my plate was probably not a wise decision, especially in the days of floppy discs masquerading as word processors and toll phone calls adding up quickly. 

The "architect," came to talk to kids and parents and anyone who wanted to provide input and then, delivered an enormous pile of pressure treated lumber, gigantic screws, stair treads, rafters and who knows what else. As they had done in a zillion communities before, and after, they delivered instructions to our "community designed" structure that looked like a zillion other community designed structures. Then, in an effort largely chaired by my construction savvy father of my kids,and a zillion less-than savvy volunteers, this enormous structure somehow came to light in what had been an empty field. 

I know what you are already thinking, pressure treated lumber with all those chemicals? What were they thinking? Volunteers building this thing, what about insurance? We threw caution to the wind (although I know we did buy construction insurance), and it became a go to destination for many years, until it was deemed unsafe because of the chemicals in that lumber that surely will last forever in a chemical-landfill-somewhere.

I found this picture as I cleaned out an old album, and it spurred a host of memories.  Now the picture, like the structure, is part of history. I know there were splinters, many, over time; however, I really hope no one got cancer for playing on this labor of love. We really did want to make the world a better, safer, happier place for our children. Perhaps, in retrospect, we should have run for political office and really changed the direction of the future.

 

May 28 On the Shelf

I read mostly on my Kindle reader through the local Libby app; yet, I still love the feel and smell of a book in my hands. 

I walked into my magnificent public library to return a book, yesterday, and that is when I saw the librarians gathered around the new release shelf looking as if they had hit the lottery. I noticed the sort of distantly familiar face of a news reporter and slid the book off the shelf. I read the blurb and almost put it back thinking it was a bit too sappy until Bert piped up, "It's really well written with distinct stories of outside-of-the-box-heroes."

I started the book while I ate my dinner and continued after I settled into my bed for the night. I was still reading at 10, 12,.....and then replayed the stories in my mind as I slipped into a fistful sleep thanks to Martha Raddatz's tales of real brave acts that followed 9/11. It may have been the moms who spent years and years caring for their sons with life-changing brain injuries resulting from their deployment that left me tossing and turning.  It may have been the real-life focus of this book that shook my foundation to a core and made me focus on every breath that kept me awake. It may have been the news that the bombing in Iran has begun again with both sides trading those expensive explosives that have enormous potential to destroy the trajectory of lives that prevented my mind from shutting down for the night. Or, it may have been the masterful writing that brought the hopes, fears and dreams of these people into my life asking me to remember ALL who have served, rethink priorities and recognize my blessings.

Quite a few great books have passed through my life this year, this gave me pause.

SOL26: May 26: Just Like Annie Said

Today, I am sharing with the Two Writing Teachers' Community a small slice of my life.

The holiday weekend began quietly with a forecast that detoured plans for travel and outdoor activities and encouraged second cups of coffee followed by plunging temperatures that required turning on the heat, even on Memorial Day Weekend. I busied myself cleaning closets, donating clothes, reducing clutter dressed in sweats drinking hot tea just to stay warm. It was the kind of weekend where catching up on Virgin River became a highlight! 

The clouds still obscured the sun and I was still in sweats, still cleaning, when she called about heading to the pool as the long weekend was finally coming to a close. She assured me the pool was open and we were going as I sipped yet another cup of tea and piled excuses on the table. Just saying, "No," would have been easy if I wasn't a bit lonely and it hadn't been my persuasive grandchild who assured me her whole family was headed to swim.

The rain had ground to a halt as I finally headed out with a swimsuit under heavy sweats realizing the temperature outside was warmer than inside? The pool was pretty empty when we arrived; yet, as I sat on the edge, I realized others had also grown tired of life trapped inside houses and were also braving the pool which was not nearly as cold as my house had been! I slipped into a lane and began, slowly at first, stroke after stroke until my breathing matched the rhythm of the pool. Slowly, but surely, the clouds parted and the sun broke through as Annie had promised in her famous song. 

As I swam, lap after lap, I prayed for the families of those lost and hoped there was a bit of sunshine came through for their day as well. Then, I  smiled,remembering to reach outside my comfort zone and to be thankful for pushy grandchildren and wonderful gifts of modern civilization, like pool heaters!

May 25 Memorial Day

It's still a rainy Memorial Day weekend in these parts; perhaps, a reminder to stop and reflect on the sacrifices and risks of war as we hope for a solution to the current wars impacting lives across our globe.

Fire trucks, Girl Scouts, 

Fife, drum corps, join

Those who served marching 

Down Main Streets as

Burgers  sizzle, Frisbees fly.

Crowds fill beaches, 

Craft fairs, remembering

Loved, lost, left, missing

Many still follow orders

Risking life and limbs,

Hoping to ensure peace,

For future generations,

Rather than to enrich,

While we remember the 

Solemn tombs of

Soldiers, lost too soon.

Hope for a lasting,

Peace among people, 

Nations still elusive as 

Bombs, threats, risks still

Fly across our fragile planet.

May 24: Rainy Day

It's another rainy day on this holiday weekend, devastating local beaches and holiday plans; yet, perhaps this is a chance to reflect?

Dismal skies, soggy sands, somber moods,

Encompass East Coast environs, essential

Precipitation pushes people, parties to

Suspend celebrations, postpone plans,

Reflect on lives lost to wars, prejudice, as well as,

Illness, disease, limited resources, decisions,

Racism, intolerance, radicalism, isolation,

Ignorance, radicalization, self-serving decisions,

Bias, preconceptions, addiction, power plays,

Reminders, perhaps? that our beliefs and actions

Impact others, we are in control of our actions,

Not only our response.

SOL26: May 19: Angst?

It's Slice Of Life Tuesday and I am sharing with my writing community at Two Writing Teachers.  

The unusual 40 degree temps last week gave way to a few days of 90s this week and the hum of summer noise makers fueled my angst. 

I kept the windows of my car and house open and tried to be grateful for the first fresh air of the season even though it was definitively a warm breeze. I did sweat and I drank a lot of water as I worked my way through the day. I swigged an extra large drink as my blood boiled when I noticed the parked cars with air conditioners running full blast . Why aren't they thinking about the extra fuel they were burning?  I carefully watered the plants on my porch, by hand, while I watched sprinklers water driveways and sidewalks thinking about the valuable resource wasted  My bedroom was very warm, but my 2-minute-shower, damp hair, and a ceiling fan kept it manageable as I lay there sad to hear my neighbor's heat pump drowning out the excited crickets. 

I studied the ceiling, wondering if my own Rachel Carson-fueled-conservation-empowered-upbringing with a few window fans and push mowers had scarred me or if I was a dinosaur in a world where rising fuel and electric costs are managed with an extra large iced something at Starbucks, and extra swipe of the Visa and nary a concern for the future of our planet? 

Ethical ELA: May 18: Appreciating Sundown

Today's Ethical ELA Hosts, Jessica Wiley and Erica Johnson, ask us to go outside to fine flora, fauna, and other interesting things to share.  I'm going to reflect on last night, my first to sit on the porch this season.

The great oak's potential offspring drifted

Hopefully through the late evening sky, while

Dark red helicopters floated excitedly

In the gentle evening breeze while a

Cacophony of birds called to each other from

New-built homes, celebrating their potential

Offspring in a rainbow of colors and sizes while

I nestled into a worn rocker, noticing the need for

Porch mucking, pollen eliminating, paint repairing and

Solar lights flickering, joggers and dogs celebrating. 

Neighbors, of all species, appreciating sundown,

Proclaiming spring's arrival, after a long wait.