SOL26 March31 Endings are Beginnings

Today is the last day of the Slice of Life Challenge for March 2026.  It's also the ending-of-childhood-birthday for a special young woman in my life. Both endings are fortunately the beginning of a new chapters. 

How can she be ready to vote, go to college,

Make so many "adult" decisions when I 

Remember her damp head nestled, as we

Told endless bedtime stories after Elsa

Dance parties, slime making, trinket 

Paintings, celebrations, concerts, meets?

Yet, her next chapter is even more exciting

New adventures, experiences, people,

Endings are beginnings, 

I must remember.

How did I make it to the last day

Writing, reading, connecting, thinking,

Meeting new friends at the beginning of their

Journeys as teachers encouraging writing 

Along with those in the thick of teaching,

Parenting, trying to empower themselves

Along with forever teachers

Still learning, reflecting, growing?

Yet, we can meet again next Tuesday

I will try to write poetry, daily, in April

Endings are beginnings, 

I must remember.

SOL26 March 30 Have You Ever?

 

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group sharing bits and pieces of life. I am all over the place in my thinking, worrying, and celebrating right now and in the beginning I was thinking it was just me!  I kept adding to my list, but these are a few of the feelings that many/most/all? of us have at times!

Have you ever thought about how much a newborn baby grows and changes in their first 18 years? How could it happen so fast that they are ready to head off to jobs and colleges and lives of their own?

Have you ever looked at a child and become overcome with worries about the condition of the world our generation is handing to them? How can we who worked for and wanted peace and harmony live with our failure to make the world better?

Have you ever wanted something so much it hurt but know you cannot have it? How did you manage to move on and cope with life without constant obsession? Is it ok to let go of hopes and dreams?

Have you ever been so lost that you were really scared, if only for a moment, and not sure of what was going to happen? How did you find the courage to keep going, find your way in the myriad of choices?

Have you ever been so angry and frustrated with someone that you could imagine yelling, screaming, and knocking over furniture and held it inside? How could someone make you so angry, sad, disappointed? How could such a thing happen?

Have you ever loved someone so much that you worried obsessively and prayed consciously day after day? How can you keep all those loves and worries in balance with working, living and breathing? 

Have you ever lost someone who left a hole in your heart the size of the Grand Canyon? How do you move ahead and keep going with a gaping hole in your life? 

Have you ever won a lottery where the big money prize provided the impetus for changing the future of your life? I once won a 50-50 drawing at a small town orchestra but that's it! and that is ok!

SOL26: March 29 While Marines Landed

This month, I am writing with Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group sharing bits and pieces of life, like this one, 

I met Diane, Claudia, Alba,

Waiting for the march to begin,

In a small train-stop-town

While Marines landed in the Middle East,

New casualties, the war expanded while

Bitter winds blew, encouraging us to go home.

Yet, we joined long retired, new graduates, 

Families, veterans, guide dogs, wheelchairs,

Worried about wars, bullying, unemployment, 

Panicked about inflation, international relations,

Saddened about those incarcerated, senseless murders

Hoping in some very small way to make a difference.

I remembered the "olden days" of watching the big kids

Long air flowing blowing in the wind, literally,

As they sat in protest at on the quad

As we marched slowly back onto the yellow bus

This was a far more diverse crowd!

 

SOL26March 28 Public Service Reminder

 

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Group sharing bits and pieces of my life. It is an amazing challenge that forces me to think like a writer at least for a few weeks a year. 

"You have 30 miles left," Jenna dinged as I went past the last strip mall and then the last gas station on Route 23. It was raining cats and dogs, at that moment, and there was no urgent need for gas, yet. I made a mental note to get gas closer to home as I sang along with Carly and inched onto the interstate.

The traffic was slowing and I assumed, wrongly, one of the many pot-hole -repair-crews that were trying to break the cycle of blow-out times was at work just over the hill. Slowly we inched over the hill burning more precious petrol than any of us wanted to do in order to go a mile.  There was no reason for the jam in sight when the traffic churned to a total stop as the angry rain increased its attack. 

I joined Bruce, for a minute, but seriously he was happier than I was at that moment, so I turned my focus o my good friend in need, Google Map-Man. At first, it didn't look too bad, so I just sat watching the rain and wipers noticing their rhythm and then noticing Jenna had alerted me to 20 miles remaining. 

Over the next hour, yes hour, I alternated turning on and off the car, checking Google Map-Man for updates, and watching emergency vehicles snake through the angry crowd. I began to wonder if I would get home in time for my appointment? I started to think of all the contingency plans I could think about. 

The rain slowly ebbed, sunshine came out as Jenna mocked me showing just 10 miles left. Then we began moving in a positive direction. I got off at the next exit and scolded myself as if I was a naughty new driver.  "You do know better!"

Consider this a public service reminder

SOL26: March 27 Grateful

II'm writing every day in March as part of the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group. This slice is thanks to Ana who lead our Thursday night writing group this week. Ana suggested we all write about the hour before we zoomed into the meeting. I did!

She pulled down her cap and started swimming while I hopped over to the room where that fake running machine, otherwise known as elliptical, sits waiting to torture. I did the requisite minutes as fast as I could. I was on a mission, and the sweat dripping from my brown was evidence of my intent to get as much into the next hour as I could.

I quickly headed to the circuit where those foreboding machines were mocking me to come visit even though there were others with toned bodies and perfectly defined abs mulling around as if they had nothing else to do. I did the arm pull down machine, but my heart was already reading slices.

Fortunately, I had thrown my Chromebook into my gym bag, thinking maybe I might catch part of my writing group. I followed my heart and headed to the table near the pool.

I glanced over, She looked small compared to the others as she swam back and forth, almost effortlessly. She was clearly the younger sister in this cohort and I was feeling apprehensive for her; but, she was strangely confident practicing without her usual teammates as she prepared for the biggie Regional Meet.

For a moment, I lost my focus and returned to that morning, not that long ago, when her mom insisted I join the smiling toddler as she learned to jump off the side of the pool. If I am honest, I think she was confident even then. What I really remember is that I was a petrified new Meme, not sure of anything, learning to swim on my own in a new life that I could not even imagine. I did have one of those really cool Slice of Life moments thinking, "It is a good thing confidence is not genetic."

Then, filled with hope, I logged onto zoom where my friends were already gathering, grateful for this community where I too take risks, do hard things, and practice writing every day in March.

SOL26: March 26 Black Suburbans

I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group this month.  I have tried to find joy in every day life. This post is different, feel free to not read. Yet, some days there is more sadness than joy, like yesterday in the immigrant heavy community where I live. I did see the Suburbans and that got me going. I debated not sharing, but this is real, even though I am not sure about the Starbucks part........

Four black Suburbans sat waiting

Stealthily, at dismissal

While four engines were running 

In spite of the price of gas

While eight agents were sipping mocha lattes

Munching fresh croissants, bagels,

While ear buds were tuned to Opening Day, 

They'll catch the game, then

Nab a mom, babysitter, lunch aide.....

While TSA agents drive by in Ubers 

To put food on the table

While the lines grow at airports

Ticket prices increase by the hour,

While hikers are sent away from

Yosemite, Grand Canyon

While delis shutter their doors

As customers pray for another extension

While in Sacramento, gas nears $7

As bombs drop into the sea.

While we are distracted by Cuba, China

Greenland, Venezuela, Iran, China, Dubai,

While tariffs are tossed around like 

Lysol after the flu hits home

While carrots, peanut butter, hamburgers

Become treats saved for birthdays

While our hearts are heavy and our

Minds are distracted by daily legal battles..

We have not forgotten 

Thousands of unnamed souls warehoused in abandoned buildings, 

Flown to foreign lands where they have disappeared 

To live their days in punishment,

Reassigned to a country where they have never lived before 

Away from children, spouses, jobs, courses, loves,

Forced to give up dreams of making the world a better place

Altering their future,

Those around the world w

Who hate us more than ever before

Those lost including Virginia, Renee, Jose, Tyler, Alex, Luis,  

Geraldo, Victor, Heber, Noah, Cody, Nicole,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

 

SOL26 March 25 This Old House

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group sharing bits and pieces of life. This post is about my little old house. I was locking the front door when the UPS person was delivering a package next door. You need some perspective to understand why they rushed over!

My house, like all the houses on my street, is a centenarian and has all the charm and quirks that come with old age. For example, the outside wall are made of lathe and stucco with absolutely no insulation. It also has radiators built into the walls that sound like drummers live inside; yet are amazingly efficient even if covered with about 20 coats of paint.  The floors squeak, the windows leak, there's a nest at the peak.

About 50 years ago, some strong owner hauled in a solid oak mammoth with a leaded glass inset and made it the front door. It weighs a ton and works as long as cold winds don't blow too much and the temperature stays above freezing. This has not been a good winter for entering and leaving my house which is why I keep a screw driver and an old shoe near the inside and outside of the door! I am sure you think I am quirky like my house, but let me explain.

I was locking my front door when that delivery person yells, "Let me help you up!" I guess they saw me sitting on the porch floor and thought I had fallen. Truth is, to lock the door you need to raise the door up and make the lock align. I kneel down and use a screw driver wedged into the bottom, and an old shoe to hold the door up about a quarter of an inch. Then, I get up and let  the key to do its thing before going back down to remove the shoe and the screwdriver. Phew!

I demonstrated to the UPS driver who watched and shook his head. I am pretty sure he is not participating in this writing festival, but if he were, we would both have found our slices!

SOL26 March 24 Perspective

I am writing with Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group this month. In this chapter of life I teach in diverse settings. Sometimes, I wear nice clothes and students refer to me as professor; other times I am half-naked, in a pool,  a substitute gym teacher. Sometimes I cover the Stretch and Flex class which is what you think it is. Diversity is the spice of life, right? This happened in the second setting....

John Denver was crooning, "Sunshine on my shoulders," as the class wrapped up. Like students everywhere, some raced out past the row of swim bags, towels, walkers! Others lingered to stretch a bit more, talk to each other, or talk to me, the substitute teacher.  

"This song makes me so happy," Maria began chuckling, "and reminds me of my own children listening to records." I knew Maria from another class I covered. She is a talker and a cheerleader for her classmates. Plus she really gets into activities like the ball toss we did earlier.  She probably had many report cards suggesting she needs to talk less and listen more.

"Do you know Rosie?" she continued and then without my answer added, "she is my hero. She is 93 and still helps out at the food pantry!" 

"You are a reminder of what exercise does for your body and mind," I told Rosie and trust me I meant it. 

Maria continued, "I'm only 83 but I still downhill ski, just no more black diamonds for me! I try not to fall!" she added as she continued to sway in the water. 

Someone joined Stevie Wonder, "You are the sunshine of my life," and I began clearing the beach balls. Kerry added quietly but proudly. "I'm going to be 90 next week and I am here 3-4 times a week even on cold rainy days like today." She picked up her pink metallic device and danced to the showers.

"I'm only 77," Sandy smiled as she headed up the ramp, "but I have replacement joints in all the areas! I loved the beach ball toss."

"This was a happy class. I feel sunshiny even if it is still raining," Valerie offered in appreciation.

I loaded up, clicked my heels and danced out of the pool grateful for water and perspective.

Ethical ELA: Claudia Sheinbaum

Today's Ethical ELA asked us to consider contemporary women in the news. I knew right away that I would like to write about the Nobel Prize winning President of Mexico. have watched her from afar with quiet admiration for her dignified stance in her relations with the United States. It would appear she avoids name calling, abusive language, and retaliation in favor of productive and focused dialogue. She appears to be, in my opinion, a class act who focuses energy on making the world a better place.

First
Female, Jewish

Nobel Prize Winner

Earned Pd.D, Nobel Prize,

Accomplished energy enginer, climate scientist,

Mexico City Mayor Introducing novel Cablebus 

Accomplished improved citywide commuting, addressed everyone's security,

Implemented gender-neutral uniform policy for students schools,

Landslide victory Presidenta Mexico, dialogue, de-escalation earning praised internationally

Her Excellency Claudia Sheinbaum

SOL26 March 23: Closer to Spring

This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life  group sharing a slice of my life each day.  This slice comes from a tiny bite of the first Sunday morning of spring.

I thought I read or heard it was going to be in the 60s, so I pulled on my cropped yoga pants and the quilted vest yearning to see the light of spring, and dashed out the door. I turned around before locking to grab a winter coat. It was overcast, drizzly, and felt very cold even if it was the first Sunday morning in spring! 

I turned on the seat warmers, cranked up the heat, and realized it was 39 degrees. I jumped on the highway and was almost there when I noticed DD was next to the exit ramp. I made a fortuitous decision and stopped for a large, hot, black coffee.

There were SUVs lined from stem to stern and a field of preteen girls in shorts and tees tossing yellow balls from tiny baskets attached to sticks. Meanwhile, their parents caught up on the local gossip, children's sports accomplishments, and the costs of training clinics. "We did the travel program where they promised 100 games including some at Disney World," one boasted.  I cringed, wondering the cost, time and family energy.

I noticed a bevy of brothers playing soccer, a bunch playing football, and a few tossing Frisbees oblivious to the loud geese returning in the largest V formation I've ever seen while sipping my coffee. Meanwhile. parents wrapped in blankets and siblings snuggled under blankets, trying to warm themselves while the wind blew across the fields. Finally, the shivering girls began to play.  

It was 8:45 in the morning and it was finally spring on the calendar, at least. I smiled thinking of the poem, I Heard a Bird Sing.  We are at least nearer to spring than we were in September!

 I Heard a Bird Sing  by Oliver Herford

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.

"We are nearer to Spring 
Than we were in September,” 
I heard a bird sing 
In the dark of December. 

From Welcome Christmas! A Garland of Poems (Viking Press, 1955).
This poem is now in the public domain.