sol25 March 4 Does You Tube Know?

 

I woke up in a sweat, kicked off the covers, and headed to the shower. "I must have misread the forecast," I thought as I abandoned my usual fleece for a tee.

As I reached the stairs, the steam pipes were clearly humming and my heart increased in response. I hurried to the thermostat where the 78 degree indication justified my sweat. I instantly decided to turn the heat off remembering the scene a few years ago when that 100 year old steam pipe in the basement blew spewing a century of waste everywhere. 

"I'll have to figure this one out after class," I thought as I sighed deeply and grabbed my fleece.                              

Wondering, worrying if the problem was the pipes, furnace, or the thermostat?                        Wondering, worrying if I could really fix it or if I would need to get a service call.                        Wondering how long if would take to get a service person to come?
Worrying how much it would cost.                                                                                                Wondering if I could fix this mess?                                                                                                Worrying if my pipes might freeze before I fixed the problem? 
Wondering if I should skip my favorite early morning Aquacize class given this mess?

Worrying, wondering about the problem during every single step, every stroke, every move.

Wondering as I showered, dressed and drove home.

Worrying as the temperature had already dropped 15 degrees in my old house.

Hoping You Tube holds the answer?

sol25 March 3 They Come in Threes

 

"I am heartbroken to share," the note began.  I knew the next words without reading them. 

I sighed, deeply, and apologized to my mother who claimed these events came in threes even though even she knew there was no scientific evidence! 

I spent many years quietly disproving her personal "life-theorems" based on lore!

I went outside day after day with long wet hair on bitter cold winter days and did not catch a cold!

I've dropped spoons again and again without a visitor to my home!

I've walked under ladders and cuddled with black cats, more than once!

I've broken the 5 second rule with peanut butter sandwiches, shrimp cocktails, and steaks!

Yet, her message, once again, was loud, clear, and sadly accurate. I put the times for the wake and funeral into my calendar for the third time in as many weeks. 

Looking up to the heavens, I suspect, by now, my mom would be on the Welcome Wagon and they would soon be commiserating about their daughters. She will  be missed.

sol25 March 2 I Am Concerned

 

On day w of the March SOL Challenge, 

I am reflecting on who I am:

I am 

Proud: Mom, Meme, Sister, Auntie, Cousin, 

Appreciative: Friend, Professor, Teacher, 

Wanna-Be: Beach-Bum, Writer,

Grateful for: Great Literature, 

Modern Medicine, Strong Faith. 

Year 14, SOL March Participant,

Hoping to write and remember

The magical small moments.

I am

Passionate about:

 Using my gifts to serve others,

Thinking critically about all things,

Remembering that history should

Guide us to not repeat mistakes.

Concerned about:

Socio-political decisions

Impacting those with the least authority,

Challenging beliefs about our fragile planet,

My generations legacy.

SOL25 March 1 What Lies Ahead?

 

I was going to write an introductory slice, but then life happened,

So you will have to infer something about me, for today.

Like lemmings pulled to a familiar green sign off the highway, the train of aging Priuses and well worn mini-vans made their way in the days after the announcement. 

 

If they were lucky enough to score a wagon, they filled the belly with paint, paper, crafts, thread and the remaining Singer machines.  They pulled patterns from the bins without worry about the price or sizes and loaded skeins of yarn in all colors as if their lives depended on it.  They waited in line fingering reams of fabric.

Throughout the store, people talked softly, respectfully, as one might at a serious event such as a wake. Even when the check out system crashed, there were no complaints, only subdued resignation. It was as if people were returning "home" one last time and shopping as if after a generation of supporting home sewers and crafters, the "mother-ship" was soon closing its doors for good.

I know we will be able to "get stuff" online; however, I am not sure how those of us who love the feel of fabric and yarn will "get our fix." 

Yet, my sadness was amplified 100 fold as I waited in the long check out line and read about the forceful end of diplomacy.  I was consumed with fear as threats and punishments break relationships but do not change behaviors.  I was filled with images of bullying and the damage it does on every level of society. A few tears fell down my cheeks because I am very worried about what lies ahead. 

sol25 February 25 Signs of Hope***

 

February has been a hard season,

Bone-chilling cold,

Life-changing losses,

Moral-compass challenging news

Every single day.

I've tried avoiding 

Social media, evening news

Sharing my thoughts.

Afraid.

Saddened.

Scared.

I've been searching 

For signs

Hope.

As the sun emerged, snow melted,

Two signs emerged:

A grandchild's picture

Depicting

Hope through the ages.

A friends message

"One child, one teacher, one book, 

and one pen, can change the world." 

Malala Yousafzai

I am hopeful March

Will bring change.

sol25 Vestiges of the Pandemic

As I read about another "everyone back in office every day" mandate, I could not help but think of discussions, not that long ago, about the power of Zoom to change working environments, permanently. I could not help but think of the empty parking lots at the train station, month after month after month. I could not help but think of the plummeting real estate values for office spaces or the demise of "We Work" pop-up places for start-ups. I could not help but think about the moms and dads in shorts and Crocs, coffee mugs in hand, lazily walking their children into school long after the pandemic.  

I could not help but think of my own grad students in Texas, Manhattan, Queens, and Upstate New York who join together every week. Zoom has provided a means to a master's degree while working; however, I could not help but think this will change, like everything else, someday soon.

While I hope to never experience the isolation and loss of life we all felt five years ago, there are at least a few people longing for the work-from-home-in-sweats-walk-your-dog-midday vestiges of the pandemic era!

sol25 T - 37

 

There is snow/ice event headed my way in hours, long before my arms will have recovered from the last shoveling event! Then, there is another snow/ice event headed on Wednesday night and my arms ache just thinking about it! The local forecasters are also suggesting another event on Sunday and then next Tuesday. One after another as if we had requested snow and cold!

For three years, snow and ice had skirted my little spot on the map as if we had a protective forcefield around us! I dutifully pulled out the SAME bag of "safe" for pets ice melt every year and then dutifully returned it to the garage intact. To be honest, I was feeling a bit smug about the lovely if unusual winters.   

The first storms of this season passed me by, but the past month has been brutal! I've worn my boots every single day! I had to scour multiple stores in order to find another bag of "safe" ice melt. 

I was feeling "down" until I thought about my Littles sliding down that hill again and again at "take-your-breath-away-speed." If I am honest, that is what I really want to remember about winter weather!  I thought about the snow day video with my Littles dancing in the middle of a Thursday as if it was normal. Then, I got a request to come "see" my Little's new snow fort. 

If I am honest, snow is annoying and shoveling is not fun, but the joy snow provides is immense for those not burdened by shoveling. Plus, Spring is 37 days away.

 

sol25 February4 We Are Finally Starting

 

Towards the end of my undergraduate experience, I lost the bulk of an academic scholarship to a changing focus on increasing the diversity of the student body. As a headstrong young adult who had earned a 4.0 for the many semesters, I turned my head and walked away, finishing my degree elsewhere. I did realize I had many opportunities not available to others, but my heart was still sad.

Years later, I was a finalist for a fantastic teacher-leader position in a prestigious district with a salary I could have only dreamed of previously. I went to the wire with interviews, writing samples, demo lessons, but lost the position to a person who was equally qualified and filled diversity boxes in the world of elementary schools. To be honest, this time I did fully understand the need for teachers and administrators to reflect the student bodies they lead, but I still felt sad. 

In spite of a few bumps in the road, my own professional journey has been a great one. These days, I am proud to work with an increasingly diverse group of teachers and wanna be educational leaders. My students include first generation Americans, second language learners, career changers, special education students, and former members of the Armed Forces. Each and every one of them aspires to create educational environments where ALL students learn to be effective and reflective members of society who read critically, write responsibly, and create substantially. I am in awe of their passion and honored to lead discussions where we challenge the "status quo" and critically examine educational decisions. After each class, my heart is full of hope for the future of education. 

It has taken leaders with vision, quite a bit of legislation and an entire generation. These days, our schools are finally starting to reflect the beautiful tapestry of our society.  Yet, these days, I am concerned about the future. 

#sol25 January 28 Look-Alike

 

I realize journaling and blogging are "old school."

Yet, I really want to thank the TWT group for encouraging

Writing down in order to remember.

I found fresh basil at Trader Joe's, bootleg jeans at TJ Maxx, and a cheerful pillow at Home Goods. I was feeling pretty happy when I realized I was thirsty.  So, I pulled into a nearby Dunkin Donuts and ordered a hot tea!

"Don't worry," he said stumbling on the words, "this one is on me."  

To be honest, no one has ever bought me a "drink" of any kind ever, so this one caught me off guard.  "Uhhh...thank you very much," I muttered, adding more than the cost of a cup into the tip jar.

"Ummm..." he stammered with tears welling in his eyes, "you look much like my mother.

I wondered if I should engage in a conversation with a young man who with tears in his eyes that might not be easy in the empty late afternoon store.  Something in his quivering voice made me stay.  

"Your mom certainly raised a kind son," I offered with a smile. 

"She's gone now," he offered, "lost in bombing.  I miss her."

"I'm sorry," I offered sincerely, taking a deep breath to regain my composure.

"I come here, but she stayed with my brothers. The bombings in Kharkiv were brutal and they are all gone with all the apartments and schools. Like that" he snapped his fingers, "all gone."

"Your mom would be so proud of you and all you have accomplished," I offered sincerely noticing his Asst Manager badge and thinking he had worked hard to earn it. "I am pretty sure you are working hard and making a difference in the lives of others every day." I added. "I am so glad I stopped here today. You are going to do continue to do amazing things and continue to make her proud."

A part of me wanted to give him a hug, but I settled on a heartfelt handshake across the counter and a wave as I left.

I had tears in my eyes when I got to my car thinking about his experience and how it mirrored those of so many immigrants to our country who give up so much for a chance at something better. As I drove home, I did find myself wondering about his immigration status.

I am still not sure how or why our paths crossed, but he left an imprint on my heart.  

#sol25 January 21 Only Magic in the Snow

 

I spent the evening Watching mindless Netflix and the dreading the steady snowfall; however, as I headed to bed, I noticed the ice encrusted trees and the snow coated roads waiting patiently for the snowblowers. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I crawled into bed knowing what the morning light would mean. 

I woke to the sound of plows and blowing snow along with a desire to stay in bed and avoid the inevitable shoveling. Several chapters and a few cups of coffee later, I finally layered up and headed into the frozen tundra where I pushed and prodded the snow off the driveway for a very, very long time. 

I was cold and there was snow in my boots, gloves and a few other places as well when I finally finished. I was so exhausted I could hardly heave myself into the shower to warm up!  

Then, my perspective took a 180 degree turn when I got a text about a marvelous igloo lovingly created from that same ice and snow. I suspect shovels, similar to mine, and energy, perhaps more than I expended on my driveway, were used to create this masterpiece. At first glance, it might look like a hole in the snow, but that ice and snow melded together with a bit of elbow grease into something memorable and wonderful, much like the igloos created by parents and grandparents when they too saw only magic in the snow.