May 15: Another Dinosaur

When I came home on Wednesdays, my mother would be watching some talk show (I think) on our tiny black and white TV. She'd have a stack of damp shirts, pants, and sheets, fresh from the fridge, neatly stacked in plastic bags on the edge of the ironing board, awaiting the tortuous process of pressing. Her top of the line adjustable height model was a prized possession and every piece of laundry, even sheets and undies, spent time on its belly. 

The image of my mom proudly ironing for hours each week popped into my mind during a conversation about trying to give away ironing boards during downsizing!  I do have one, used exclusively for pressing seams in sewing projects, that I plan to keep for now; however, ironing boards, now, fit in the dinosaur category.

I do have a dinosaur 

An old, wooden relic used to
Press shirts, blouses, never sheets, 

In times when pressed linen and cotton

Were expected for school and work, 

Now used to press seams in baby quilts,

Craft projects that will someday, if fate

Allows, go to an antique shop, or more likely,

Setting into retirement in a landfill where it will

Become toothpicks for the other dinosaurs.

May 13: Ban the Electoral College

I read an another article questioning the legality of redistricting for political gains of any kinds by any party just before bed last night and woke up several times in a twist, literally and figuratively, as my mind struggled to process why we would not just revisit the source of the issue/problem.

The electoral college system has been under debate in the since the Constitutional Convention in 1787 when the voting system would certainly be considered primitive. An amendment to abolish the system stalled in the Senate, almost 40 years ago. I have read, but cannot prove that two=thirds of Americans should support replacing it with one of purely popular vote.  Admittedly, I Amy be missing something and in the days ahead I hope to explore opposing viewpoints; however, as of this morning, after a topsy-turvy sleep, I am proposing we ban the Electoral College!

One

Person

One vote seems

Simplistic, yet

In an era where

Information flies at

Lightning speed, we don't need it!

Ban the Electoral College,

Every citizen gets

One choice, one vote, one hope

To decide leaders

Who represent

Their wishes,

Hopes, dreams,

Future

SOL26: May12 If You Can't Beat Them

 

Today, I am sharing with the Slice Of Life Community a little bit about life lately. Hungry deer and eager-to-nest birds have emerged in earnest! 

Armed with a deer and drought resistant plant list and conversation with nursery professionals (who may have been thinking about job security?), I brought home barberry and thorny rose bushes with a side of lavender. I planted carefully and watered faithfully. I splurged on Bleeding Heart hanging beauties for my front porch. I was feeling proud until........

"I think I have a bird building a nest in that plant," I thought aloud as an eager robin arrived ready to start a family. I placed the lovely hanging plant on the floor noting the its neighboring plant also possessed a nest in progress. In the past, I have let families live rent free, decorating my porch with by-products of their primitive plumbing systems, but this time I added foil to the center of each plant and hid the beauties under chairs and then.....

I noticed the brown-gray blob in the garden carefully decapitating the baby roses from their thorny bases, proud of his eating prowess. I got up close and personal until he scampered off, clearly annoyed at me. I realized the lavender was gone and most of that carefully spread mulch was in in the lawn. I did my best to rake things back until.....

I noticed the mother bird heading under the chair finishing her nest and decided to just move those Bleeding Heart into the yard for the birds and deer to enjoy along with the rest of the deer-resistant but clearly delicious plants! If you can't beat them, someone might as well enjoy them!

May 10: An Oldie

I was clearing out a box on the eve of this holiday weekend and found an oldie but goodie from the days when those who made me a mother would wear silly homemade costumes and pose for pictures when asked. I won't call them the good old days because I vaguely remember there were sleepless nights and endless laundry in those times as well as diapers and slobbery kisses. I also know I was one of the lucky ones who had the gift as well as the challenges of motherhood. 

Always

Know you

Were the greatest

Gifts, teaching me humility,

Loving, despite many mistakes, foibles.

Thank you for bestowing

A wonderful chapter

A memory

Always

May 6 We Can

 

  

It's Saturday, but I'm sharing with Spiritual Thursday, just a few days later, thinking about Chris Margocs post about beginnings and endings which really is the essence of what the spring season is all about. From Song of Songs: See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land.

I think of this quote often as I think of the emotionally laden holiday of Mother's Day this weekend. For the many of us who have lost or are too tired/overworked/ busy/exhausted to appreciate, estranged from, or who will not see, or who yearn for mothers, children, or both, this holiday is a emotionally tough. Yet, for everyone, even those in the throes of sadness, there is an optimism of this season that offer hope.

I smiled as I passed the busy nursery this morning remembering we all can buy ourselves flowers and celebrate that spring has come.

To be a parent, mom, 
Grand, aunt, cousin, daughter
To have loved, helped, cared
Gifts of spring are promised.
Celebrated, forgotten, all
This season, is for us all

SOL26: May 5: Wires and Boxes

I am writing and sharing with the Two Writing Teacher's Slice of Life community.

I know I don't need cable TV, but I do need internet and frankly Fios works better than other services in my area. Plus, Verizon keeps lowering the price every time I ask/beg/buy a new phone, so I had planned to continue the status quo, BUT, now I am in a dilemma.

About 6 months ago, I got a mammoth box from the company with new boxes and cables and a link to directions.  I put the box in the basement as the holidays were coming and I felt no pressure to do something about the box. Then yesterday, I decided to catch the end of American Idol mostly because I had read several articles about the talent. My cable was out. Yet, I could see my neighbor was watching so it way my cable and not their cable. I figured it was about the box. 

I tried calling the 800 number along with about 300.000 others and was told the wait time was 14 hours and 5 minutes. I hung up. I started to read the directions that are written clearly for people with advanced degrees in technology, nothing about literacy teachers, even those of us with pretty good comprehension.

I've already put in about 3 hours on the directions and one wire. Based on my track record of 3.5 weeks to assemble a Little Tykes Cozy Coupe and 9.11 months to assemble a Weber grill, I am predicting this project will last somewhere in the middle, around 4.5 months. 

Right now, I am remembering my drama with the Cozy Coupe fondly, borrowing internet from the neighbor, and seriously wondering if Verizon really has a clue about real people and real wires!

 
 

May 3: Losing Choice

As I read this NYTimes article, tears mixed with my coffee in an unexpected merger of the reality of economic hard times and vague memories of my family's story. In a nutshell, the story documents the selling of a Butter Ridge Farm on the NYS Pennsylvania border after four generations, as costs have exceeded any economic value in maintaining the farm.  It had endured since before the Civil War and the family had great hopes in a pro-farmer president; however, tariffs destroyed the export market while gas and fertilizer were up 70%. So, they auctioned off every last Jersey.  They didn't choose to leave, they were forced to do so.

My dad chose to leave the small family farm where he was raised in Montgomery, NY, in the days after his own father passed. My dad was the tenth and last child raised on that farm that, based on stories passed around, did OK even during the Great Depression by selling sweet milk from alfalfa fed-cows to clients in NYC. The older brothers and sisters had long left the farm for lives in the big city and beyond by the time my dad maintained the farm during his dad's cancer fight. I suspect the farm was his IF he wanted to farm, which was not his dream. 

My Dad was fueled with ideas from his older siblings and a childhood friend who summered in nearby but planted visions of changing the world through engineering a better future. I suspect it was my dad who made the call to the auctioneer way back in  August '45 days after the funeral; by September, his mom had relocated to Brooklyn and he was enrolled in Columbia. 

I sometimes wonder how my own life would have been so different growing up on an isolated farm in a rural upstate community, and then I remember I would not exist as there is no way my mother would have chosen life on a farm, even with my father whose world was broadened by college, opera, baseball, lifelong learning opportunities. My father made a wise, even if hard, choice for him.

The difference is choice.  Those who lost Butter Ridge Farm did not have a choice.  What so many people are losing right now is a choice. 

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Verse Love 26: Day 30: Poeming

Today's Verse Love Host, Sarah Donovan, asks us to share what we saw, what changed, and what we carry forward from this month of poems. I am very grateful for this community of educators Sarah has amassed that share drafts bravely and encourage each other graciously.  I started to try to do what Sarah did and thank those whose words made a difference, but there are too many of you and my poem of gratitude was endless. I'll try to do some thank you notes in comments but please know your words really do matter. 

After this month of poeming,

Love this new word, I am 

Reminded that written words are potent,

Empowering communication tools for mortals,

Wishing we could use this approach for embracing

Writers in schools with intense, risk-free experiences,

Thankful for the encouragement to take this risk,

All who noticed my voice and drafts as valid,

Energized by thinking as one might feel after a

Completing a great book or marathon while 

Planning to return to read, learn, grow, share,

Perhaps, maybe even host a day in the future.

Verse Love 26: Day 29: Of the Woods

Our Verse Love Hosts are poets I have long admired, Barb Edler and Glenda Funk, who churn out poems that call to my heart as if it were their missions in life. Today, they invite us to choose a topic important to us, one that lifts a shroud to reveal what others may not typically see. For years, I have written unshared missives about the loss of my family after my husband's shattering decision to leave our family as we were about to become grandparents. I've been sad, embarrassed and climbed slowly out of the dark hole thanks to writing bits and pieces about the loss and bravely sharing and receiving feedback from this community. 

Today I am sharing a poem loosely based on my cherished grands which is about anyone you might wonder about and love even though they are missing from your life. I am sharing this version from the perspective of a child,

I used to ask about him, wondering

If he liked to hike in the mountains, or wade

With shells in the morning, like she does, 

I learned answers were empty 

Like mom's eyes when I asked

If he bear-hugged when she was sad, or played 

Football and catch like my uncle, or 

Stole her Halloween candy, or was her best friend?

It seemed as if the questions had no answer, so

Imagine if he were merely lost, took a wrong turn,

A journey into a dark, dense woods where 

Tangled brush holds you from moving forward or 

Back to those you love. Where dark shadows

Fill his heart with sadness, questions, misplaced

Love. Where he he wanders alone, 

Wondering how tall I am, whether I love

Science (I do) and which flavor

I would choose at the ice cream shop (chocolate)

And if I think of him (I do), if there is a pathway

Out of the woods (I hope so).

Verse Love 26:Day 28: Reflection

 Today's Verse Love Host, Jessica, Sherburn encourages us to wrap up this intense month of writing with reflection on our writing process and our plans going forward. 

Some days, 

Words form easily, 

Thoughts, gel with form

I feel like a writer who matters

Bold stances flowing from a full 

Fountain of memories, ideas, images,

Some days, it is really hard. I

Am a writer who struggles,

Stares at my cursor

Remembers the 

Challenge

Is hard.