The flower's shadow.

When I took this picture today...

I was at work.

I missed Nonie desperately.

I had to time it just right, because the wind was blowing, and the shadow was hard to catch.

When I took this picture I was walking with a man who retired from our organization 2 weeks ago after 2 1/2 decades of work on the land. Yesterday, he closed on the house he built with his bare hands. Tomorrow he moves to a condo an hour away.

I was kneeling in white linen pants in dirt.

I didn't know the name of the flower.

When I took this picture I was hungry.

And sad.

For Nonie,

and for my co-worker.

When I look at the picture now,

I can just hear the wind

that moved the canopy of leaves,

to allow the sunlight,

that made the flower's shadow appear.

Tight Lines.

When I was a little girl,

I set off on a fishing outing with my brothers and remember

Hearing someone call after us "Tight Lines!!! Hope you have Tight Lines..."

I can also remember the day, many years (decades even) later,

when I actually understood

what that Tight Lines Fish Wish meant...

When your line is tight...

it means...

you've got a bite.

PS: Happy Birthday Ginga, I love you.

No more teachers, no more books....

No more work for the summer?

I wish.

Every year about this time, I get a pit in my stomach.

Or maybe it's an itch in my brain.

Whatever it is, it tells me:

"Quit your job, summer's here and you need to be OFF".

This is an annoying little voice.

But it is also a great reminder to me to slow down.

And try to embrace the best parts of summer, the ones that make me want to drop everything and revert to being a child.

I think I write about this every year, it's like the magic of Christmas or the February blues. The thoughts that go by the wayside when the season has past, then come flooding back, taking over your thoughts upon its return.

But I will not quit my job, (maybe school nurse though)?

I will try my best to continue the summer traditions that I love with my family.

So far I have done my best to:

- eat lots of ice cream

- ride bikes

- stay up late (X finds this very easy)

- go to the candy store

- get lots of bug bites

- eat blueberries

- smile, laugh

and of course,

catch fireflies.

So, this is why I don't diet.

First of all I must give a large props to KWheels for successfully cleansing for multiple days.
This is how the cleanse went up in VT...
Day negative one:
   Buy the ingredients.
   Hands in ladies. We can DO this.
   Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream.
Day one:  
  6:45  I wake up and take the bull by the horns. Lemons, syrup, cayenne pepper and water. TASTES   GREAT!!
  7:00 Granny wakes up. "Just have to have my cup of tea before I start."
  7:30 Where's T? Hiding in bed so as to avoid unnecessary evils awaiting her cup. 
  8:30 Let's all fill up and be ready for the morning. Whew! This is great! Meet back here at noon for lunch. (Yum lunch)(Oh, just for the kids)(**#@@*!)
  10:00 Me driving to Big Lots (sorry K) thinking that my first bite tomorrow will be one out of a honking bagel. Maybe even the first of two bagels. Uh oh, I'm getting hungry.
  11:45 T leaves a message reminding me of her and Emah's trip to DQ on MV with the 3 heavy ladies smoking ciggs talking about the sand they got stuck up their you know whats. Voices and all. I am laughing. I am also really craving a blizzard. With snickers. I'll just have A wheat thin. That should hold me over.
   12:15 Bible campers come home to an enormous lunch of fresh bread, cheese and turkey. TEMPERS ARE FLARING (from me). Gran eating a smoothie. That looks good, too. Tese falls off the wagon and pulls me off with her. Just a few bites of bread, cheese and turkey. Then I'll get back on. Lemon, cayenne pepper and syrup. Mmm. Pancakes.
   Afternoon: Enjoy a few more wheat things to satiate the temper. Oh, and hunger. This is getting hard. 

Phone call from KWheels. "I AM INTO MY SECOND DAY AND LOVING THIS!!! I FEEL GREAT!! I'M NOT EVEN HUNGRY!!! I MIGHT DO THIS EVERYDAY FOREVER!! I AM MAKING MEALS AND SNACKS FOR THE KIDS AND I DON'T EVEN WANT A BITE!!!" Me: "She's lying." Lemon, syrup, cayenne pepper by the pool. Gals and kids go to library then market for dinner supplies (I cannot be trusted). Come home with potatoes, salmon, snap peas, more bread (?). Lemon, syrup, cayenne pepper for me while they're out (would turn out to be my last). 

   6:00 Kids elbows deep in salmon. Phew, don't like fish anyway. Snap peas (discovered I'm allergic) and potatoes (well, just a helping for me). 

 Well there you have it. By the next morning I have completely sworn of lemons if not in lemonade, syrup if not on pancakes and cayenne pepper just ever, ever, ever, no. 

I'm sure if I called up K right now she's be mixing up a big ole glass.
But a smile on her face?
Well,
I'd have to see it to believe it.

Sista.

It's not every day you have chickens in your kitchen.

"It's not every day you have chickens in your kitchen."

I said this phrase to Dec and Nonie many times during the past four days.

I mean, it is almost every day that we have chicken in our kitchen.

But, it's not every day that we have chickens in our kitchen.

I can't figure out why I liked saying this so much.

And the kids, they never complained about me saying it.

Perhaps because it rhymed? (Poet didn't know it.)

So we got home from the WHIRLWIND COUSIN END OF YEAR CELEBRATION...

and Dino, Wilma, Betty, and Diamond had moved on up

"Moving on up...

To the east side (to the east side)....
To a deluxe apartment in the sky (oh yes the sky).....
They're movin on up (movin' on up)
To the east side (oh, the east side)
They finally got a piece of the pie............

Now they get to see how the other half lives.

I bet you that....

Granny will spoil them.

Because she's good at spoiling itty bitty fluffy lovey things like babies and chicks.

And I admit that I

miss them.

and

am sad to see them go because I no longer get to stroll about the house pecking out the words....

"chickens in our kitchen.."

(Though it still rolls off my tongue).

It just doesn't work anymore.

Today so far...

You serenaded me with an unrecognizable song.

You did downward dogs on Granny's mat on the front lawn...

shouting "Namaste" to neighbors and the house sparrows who fluttered by.

You've asked for an icey pop about 30 times. For the record, it is 2:02PM and

I've yet to give in to your demands. Go me.

When coaching you in gymnastics, I convinced you to sit on my lap for a few

fleeting moments, and I called you my baby and the prettiest girl in the world.

You got dressed for the day at about 11Am. It was a cute button-up dress and remarkably,

you put it on with the buttons up the back, not the front.

I'm still not sure how you succeeded in doing this.

Then, you ate your lunch naked because we didn't want to ruin your pretty dress.

Now your body and mouth are both stained in tomato sauce red.

So, to compliment the face stains, I painted your toes hot pink.

No hairdo yet - it is wild and free, just like you.

You waved goodbye to the big schoolbus driver this morning.

And didn't welcome Dec off the bus this afternoon. Instead, when he dared to touch the cup

of chocolate milk on the outside table on the way into the house after school, you

greeted him with an enthusiastic and fierce: "my chocolate milk, Dec that is MY CHOCOLATE MILK PUT IT...DOWN DECKY!!!!"

and you tried to hit him in the head with a red wooden block (but missed, thankfully).

Oh Nonie.

Oh Nonie.

Nonie Nonie Nonie.

So far

today.

The night the strawberry drizzle fell on my head...

Two nights ago when I walked into the end of the year dinner, the vice principal made a comment about me being such a fashion plate.

"What's that, J.Crew page 7?" He asked.

If only he knew I stopped being about to afford J.Crew years ago. 

Later in the evening after we filled our bellies with steak (but before the waitress poured the strawberry sauce from the cheesecake all over my hair) the president of the board went around to each person in the room and said something about that person. It was a toast/roast depending on how well she knew the certain lady or gentleman. Most of the words were kind, misting the toast-ees eyes, speaking of their deep faith and commitment to the school and the children. I wondered what she would say about me. I didn't have any of her children or grandchildren (yes she has both in the school) in my class and so what could she know? The Wednesday sighting on lunch duty, the day she followed me around the school begging me to go eat the teacher's appreciation lunch (leftovers) outside in the windy parking lot, because I was secretly just trying to eat my yogurt in a quiet classroom.
I'd call it a roast, I suppose. As she started off by saying she couldn't believe the administration had hired a 13 year old to run a class of students. (You know, when I was 18 I minded that, now that I'm nearing the next decade I can appreciate the laugh). She went on to say something about how I can manage a classroom with the snap of a finger (I do run a tight ship) or something equally as impressive, and one or two other things before she got to the meat of it. When she switched gears and said above all, despite all those things, what she really admires about me are my accessories. The chiffon flowers and the peacock feather headpieces.
My accessories.
Luckily, for her case, I had chosen lovely coordinated earrings and bracelet for my teal dress. My bag matched, too.
So I got it. And you know what, I do put effort into it.
But maybe what she REALLY meant is that I accessorize the students with hope and patience. I accessorize their brains with a thirst for knowledge and their hearts with the love of self, others and God. I accessorize their dinner conversations with Drake stories or butchered sayings, about teaching men to fish and broken clocks being right twice a day.
I put effort into that, too. I know it doesn't go unnoticed. I am a type A perfectionist from my classroom to my jewelry. I am not done here because I haven't done my best here.
I know my teaching
and my outfits
aren't perfect.

Yet.
But you know I'll try. And when I get there, you know, to perfection, maybe I'll move on. Go somewhere else and start from scratch, climbing my way up the latter from newbie to veteran.
One well accessorized outfit at a time.

Email Exchange With A Sister (aka New Home Owner), June 16, 2011

----- ORIGINAL Message ----
From: Older Sister
To: Younger Sister (still glowing from purchase of new home)
Sent: Thu, June 16, 2011 8:00 PM
Subject: NEED YOUR ADDRESS

(no content in body of email)

From: Younger Sister
To:Older Sister
Sent: Thu, June 16, 2011 8:50 PM
Subject: Re: need your address

Now? I just bought a new house but we haven't moved in yet.

Are you not aware? This is the biggest buzz-kill in the world to send my current address when all I want to type to you is my NEW, NEW, NEW address.

Fine. Here it is:

1234 Old Address

Boring Town, USA

On Jun 16, 2011 9:10 PM, "Older Sister" wrote:

okay,

just addressed two letters to you that have been smooshed in my bag for 2+weeks.

sending up bday present (what you asked for) in mom's car.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXO,

K

did you get that? it was a double X O at the end.

From: younger sister (aka NEW HOME OWNER)
To: older sister
Sent: Thu, June 16, 2011 9:12:14 PM
Subject: Re: need your address

Got it. XX back. Don't remember asking for anything.... Should be a fun surprise. Xoox

Re: need your address

From:	Older Sister
To:	Younger Sister (owner of a cute yellow house)

---

if you don't remember asking for it

then you probably bought it for yourself by now.

I love you.

Do it right.

If there were ever a time to dare,

To make a difference

To embark on something worth doing

IT IS NOW.

Not for any grand cause, necessarily –

But for something that tugs at your heart

Something that is worth your aspiration

Something that is your dream.

You owe it to yourself

To make your days count.

Have fun. DIG DEEP. Stretch.

Dream big.

Know, though,

That things worth doing

Seldom come easy,

There will be times when you want to

Turn around

Pack it up and call it quits

Those times tell you

That you are pushing yourself

And that you are not afraid to learn by trying.

Persist.

Because with an idea,

Determination and the right tools,

You can do great things.

Let your instincts, your intellect

And let your heart guide you.

TRUST.

Believe in the incredible power

Of the human mind

Of doing something that makes a difference

Of working hard

Of laughing and hoping

Of lasting friends

Of all the things that will cross your path

Next year

The start of something new

Brings the hope of something great.

Anything is possible

There is only one you

And you will pass this way but once.

DO IT right.

- AU

On, Why We Relayed.

Three days ago, my family relayed.

Boy, did we relay.

And I'm happy to report, Nonie can relay with the best of them

We relayed for Stan and Nan, of course.

Two of the best of the best.

But, throughout the night, our hearts opened up. Our original tears for Stan and Nan, gave way to big, salty, stingy tears for Others.

Most, we'd never even met.

We relayed for all that we don't understand.

About cancer....

about life.

And, we relayed for the little boy

there in all the dusty and sunshine-filled corners of our world asking us to explain

that which we don't understand.

We relayed for friendship.

We relayed for those friends who don't have our matching shirt to morph them into our team.

And for those friends, who will wear the team shirt with oodles of pride if

only given the honor.

There is so much that we relayed for.

But as we flip through our pics from the memorable and emotional evening we realize that....

Above all,

we relayed for love.

And, we especially relayed for...

the mother-less children in the crowd

and the child-less mothers in heaven.

This is why we relayed.

When play finds us.

Sometimes, our play is organized.


"Decky doo, go get your racket!!!!"

Sometimes, we drive really far to watch others play...
"Hey daddy, how long is 20 more minutes?"

Our drive is so far, in fact, that we are obligated to stop in Mystic for ice cream cones.
Happy to report that more ice cream now goes in (the mouth) than on (the clothes).


And the players who play? They are the best in the world.
"Ole, ole, ole, ole...."

We play around in the car during the long drive home.
okay, Mommy and Dec play, Nonie practices her anti-cavity regime.


We play with Fred.
Have you met him yet? He is Nonie's soul-mate.



And speaking of Nonie, she plays too.
"Mom watch, Mom watch me, Mom do you see me? I summersalted"


Oh buttercup will play.
All day, if you let her.

Of course, all that playing works up an appetite!
How bizzzzaaarrrre (as in ice cream & candy).


Sometimes. We don't even TRY to play.
Really, we don't - we just jump off rocks.

But then, play just finds us.

So, here's to all things al fresco and summer.

And here's to letting play find you.

onomatopoeia

I came home tonight to a formal note from the health department at the school warning of an outbreak of coxsackie - you know, hand-foot-mouth-disease. Awesome, I thought, as I flipped the notice into the recycling bin.

Anyway, just that word: coxsackie, makes me cringe a little.

Could we all just agree now that coxsackie sounds like its meaning?

Admittedly, fizz & hiss are better examples of onomatopoeia, but I think coxsackie is right up there.

For those still reading, the real highlight of the evening was coming home to these incredible eyes, this scattering of cute freckles, and this huge heart that sometimes spews forth passion and emotion that can bowl and unassuming mother right over.

Which leaves me with the point to all this:

Coxsackie?

Foe? Friend?

Today I ran. For the first time in some time. I ran. It wasn't pretty, but I did it.

I actually ran yesterday, too. But that doesn't count because it was about 20 minutes

in duration (sandwiched between Dec's game and The Hub's game) and it was all about

"getting back in time".

For the record I did:

...

Run.

And, get back in time.

***

For several weeks Dec and Nonie, The Hubs and I have noticed several holes in our lawn.

On special moments, when our backyard fills with excited "yelps!" the kids have spotted the chipmunk who built the holes scurrying back and forth between them.

"THERE HE IS!!!!!!"

"I SEE HIM! DO YOU SEEM HIM???? I SEE HIM!!!!!"

"OVER THERE, RIGHT THERE, no, RIGHT THERE!!!"

I've even had the privilege of making eye-contact with the Chipmeister.

He looks at me, cheeks full. Oh, so full.

We make eye contact and then he darts to the highest stone he can find.

HE STANDS on top of the stone as if declaring:

"This is My Yard, Back Off", and then darts to a hole and slips one full-story below us - in

a flash we're all wondering if he was real or not....

When I've made eye contact with that there Chipmeister - I've oft' thought:

My sunflowers this year are goners.

There is NO WAY they will withstand that cute, and cunning mammal.

I had flashbacks to the grand grey squirrels who rode my sunflowers in the breeze last summer - while nibbling on their sweet, sweet buds....

oh the horror.

So it surprised me today when:

***

I ran (literally, jogged) past a flattened chipmunk in the middle of the road just on the hill up by the lake and thought, "oh, no! is that MY chipmunk?"...

I actually felt my once puffed-out heart fall flat and lifeless alongside the flattened chipmeister...

That-there chipmunk may just be my foe

or rather,

my sweet & cunning friend.

It is bittersweet, this day is.

I'm sad to see him go.

But as, I watered the sunflowers this evening, all I could think was:

Live on, my sweet sunflowers. Live on.

brothers are good, too

I missed my brothers this morning as I watched them holding hands in the gym. Interlocking their fingers, his pale and freckly, hers chocolatey brown.
They are siblings and it doesn't matter that she is a little girl and he a budding boy and all that terrors that entails.
They are siblings and it doesn't matter that she is 4 and he is 9.
They are siblings and it doesn't matter that she was born in Africa, adopted to a loving family in Vermont a year ago, when she could not speak a word of English, and he has been born and raised as small-Catholic school royalty.
Their love for each other transcended their gender, age, or birth. It was a love so pure between two siblings in an early morning game of sharks and minnows. As the thunder and lightning roared outside they held hands and crisscrossed the gym floor. She a step or two behind. Her little pre-k legs struggling to keep up and his growing third grade body seeking protection for his little sister.
As I watched I could feel the connectedness in their fingers. I imagined it was my hand wrapped around Trip's as he drove me on summer visits to colleges I never had a dream of being accepted to. I'm sure he knew. But he pulled me ahead anyway. I imagined I was in Boston this past September, crying tears of joy that my big brother Chris was so happy. How can you not rejoice in your brother's love? I imagined I was in the blue suburban with Mark. Dropping him off at the Mt. Kisco train station the day he moved out of Gray Rock and embarked on his journey in the city. I cried and I cried because who would I watch Dawson's Creek with and sit upstairs and giggle with throughout my awkward teenage years with him a whole hour away?
I was her this morning. I was the little girl. Being tugged behind her big brother with the freckles all over his face. I felt his hand dragging her to safety. I watched his back as he pulled her with him, ensuring they got to the other side as one. I felt the love she was feeling, because I have felt it, too.
What an unbelievable way to start her day, and mine.

And I knew, even as the tagger came at them
and he let go
zagging away from her zig
leaving her on her own,
to get himself to safety,
I knew she would be okay.
She would make it safely, too.
Because he showed her how.

And she did.