From spring flowers to fall decor

 This is my favorite fall decoration. This happy scarecrow, displayed on our front door, greets visitors. 

Today was the perfect day to hang my little friend, as the weather has just broken from highs in the high 90s and 100 some days...all summer it seems. 

Today it is in the 70s and the doors and windows are flung open. The outdoor air feels like a carress.

Bird chatter and passing cars sound amplified. The cat dashes to the door to see what he heard rustling in the bushes outside. 

Fall has arrived. Tomorrow I will settle on the patio and catch up on my reading.

Hope you are enjoying cooler weather and the changing seasons. I will soon replace the pink florals of spring with the rusts, oranges, and golds of fall. Our pink roses are having one last hurrah.

Hope you enjoy an autumn poem I had published years ago in Quivre River Anthology about my best long distance (now late) friend of 47 years. 

 

Hitching a Ride on a Song

 Bacon sizzles on wisps of wood smoke and weaves through autumn leaves in hues so bright it makes me squint. 

Outside my best friend’s cabin, I watch the morning sun scorch the surface of Newfound Lake and ignite the tree-tops as a breeze dumps treasures at my feet like contraband from a bad boy’s pockets

Enthralled at the frisky fall foliage, I set my coffee mug down and imagine slurping cherry Kool-aid out of the red sugar maples,swallowing the butterscotch nectar of yellow elms, sucking fire-orange extract from burnished oaks,and tinting my tongue with evergreen elixir.

I guzzle a gallon of happiness; in one sweet swill I devour my morning blend. Loons in love stir the stillness as my dear friend wanders onto the porch searching for me and her short term memory.

She hovers over my shoulder. I silently curse her brain cancer. She raises her voice, lowers her head, draws her robe tightly and belts out an old Janis Joplin song from our youth.

 “Oh Lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz…”  Our voices blend, peal over the New Hampshire White Mountains, tumble down a lush meadow
quiver on a stream, bottom out in
a valley and echo through the woods –
a timeless melody hitchhikes on her long-term memory, and for a moment we are vibrant, young, climbing mountains, swimming seas, rocking babies, traipsing across tundra as we did when we met as next door neighbors in Alaska. Sheila and me.

Rowing, rowing, rowing down the river

Granddaughter Ashley and her husband Justin
packed the car and loaded the boys Liam, 12; Alex, 9; Charlie, 8 into the back seat and off they went for a weekend of camping. 

What a wonderful family experience. I am so grateful the boys get to explore and enjoy these outings in nature. They each have small kayaks, and it appears they have also rented a canoe for this trip.

I asked if they had fun. Ashley replied, "Yes, until the inflatable mattress deflated at 2:00 a.m. So we headed for the car to sleep. Hit the river after breakfast. Stopped on a sandbar at lunch. Couldn't eat the water logged sandwiches. The snacks were okay. On the river all day." 

"Charlie knows how to steer the kayak. His first time and he did so well. We packed up in the evening, stopped at McDonald's, and the exhausted boys passed out in the car. We had so much fun! Especially Liam." 

Now that is a positive attitude. A fine day spent on an Missouri Ozarks waterway, and exploring  caves, inlets, riverbanks. These are the times they will fondly remember.

 Charlie is a Cub Scout and is so excited. Liam joined a school video gaming club and he also plays trombone. Alex is still deciding what direction he wants to go. I am grateful for our healthy, happy great grandson explorers.

REMEMBERING

When I was teaching, I could make the drive to school in fifteen minutes. On this day twenty-five years ago, I stood before my television and watched the first plane hit one of the twin towers. Horrific accident, I thought. As I parked at school, the radio announcer reported the second hit. My heart fell. 

I rushed into the middle school building, (my PreK classroom was housed on the lower level) a few older students in the hall were panicking and shouting that the US was under attack. My efforts to calm them were futile. 

Rushing to my preschoolers, who were unaware of the situation, I made certain they were in good hands with my wonderful assistant Amy.

I felt compelled to do something. Grabbed my scissors and cut red, white and blue construction paper strips, (like we used to make holiday chains), headed to the main school, and without prior approval, I walked into each classroom, introduced myself and told the students that they could each have a strip of paper to write exactly what they were feeling. Stated I didn't want strong profanity, but wouldn't object to mild swearing, and I didn't care about spelling or grammar. 

"You must release your feelings. I am going to roll each strip into a loop and make a bulletin board size American Flag with your words on each strip. Please look for your words when you go into the lunch room, and please do not destroy YOUR display."

I rolled each strip into a loop and stapled them to the large bulletin board: alternated stripes of red and white loops and created a blue area for stars to make a 3-D American flag.

At lunch, students walked in instead of plowing through. They paused to find "their" words, expressions of fear, anger, and worry. They talked to one another. Typically, the lunchroom bulletin board displays in the inner city school were destroyed no sooner than they were decorated. This day the students were reserved and actually interacted respectfully. 

The Feelings Flag remained intact for more than a week, and then one by one the strips began disappearing as the students claimed their feelings. Our lives were forever changed that day. My story, The Feelings Flag, was published in 2016 in Chicken Soup for the Soul, The Spirit of America on page 26.

                            **************

Years later we were on a cruise, seated at a dining table with a man named Daniel and his wife Farzana. Daniel's kind expression spoke volumes. His impish smile and greeting were sincere. When he shared his life story, six other tablemates were mesmerized by his voice and story. Both still resonate. This is a tribute to Daniel V.

He worked at the airport Port Authority of New York, and he also was a New Jersey police officer. Now retired.

On 9/11/01, he rushed to the Twin Towers with his partner, and together they climbed many flights of stairs to rescue trapped individuals. His voice cracked as he recalled the details. "Number one rule, never leave your partner." He choked up. "I left my partner. I found an elderly woman on a stairwell and I carried her many flights out of the building before the collaspe. My partner did not make it. Overhwelmed with guilt, I stayed drunk for a year. Then I got sober. My grandmother told me, 'Daniel, think of it as you being someone's angel instead of abandoning your partner. You saved that woman's life.' "

My throat tightens on this day REMEMBERING, remembering, remembering... 

Sometimes you can't believe your own eyes!

This is the rear end of a Jeep. 

 I assume someone's grandma was very busy crocheting this spare tire cover for herself or her grandchild's Jeep. Crocheting is a lost art.

I couldn't believe what we were seeing. It was truly beautiful handiwork, and maybe it will start a fad. Who knows? 

Have you seen anything like it? Would you display it on your car?

Dreaming...goals and aspirations

IKEA is a home furnishing store. The displays are set up to portray home living spaces: kitchens, bedrooms, living rooms etc. The furniture manufacturer is a Swedish company. 

This giagntic store is famous for serving comfort food; especially notable are the Swedish meatballs. 

Granddaughter Ashley, mother to Liam, Alex, and Charlie called and asked me to accompany her and the boys for lunch and to browse.  

Charlie just turned eight, and he waltzed right into a kitchen and selected a skillet with a photo of stir fry in it. He grabbed a spoon, chose a bowl, and began serving his mother. He said, "Wow! I never imagined this place would be so fun. I am a chef."

Alex, nine, spied a computer set up and office area. I heard him say to Charlie, "I would stop fighting with you and even share a virtual reality head set for our video games if we got this furniture. Also I want a new bed. No more bunk beds." They were negotiating ideas for their new "apartment."

Charlie replied, "Yeah, but let's get a real computer. This keyboard is just cardboard."

Liam, forever the dreamer and goal setting kid, said, "I would like this for my apartment when I move out." He stretched out and imagined his life.

 I told him he already has an apartment, his own large bedroom in the lower level of their home, which once was a guest suite complete with kitchen/bath and living area. I suggested he stay at home as long as possible before rushing to move out.

At age 12, he claims he is more than half way to being an adult.

"Yeah, Nana, you're right. I'll probably stay home until I finish school and make my first half a million. I'll stay home until I'm 23 or 26, and then I'll move out. make my next half million." Dream big my great grandson, because you ARE a great kid.

Nothing wrong with dreaming. On the way home, Charlie talked on and on about Ikea.

"This was the most fun day ever! I want to come back and play here."

 And to think, there was no admission fee, and he thought it was a hands-on play place. Doesn't take much when you use your imagination.

When I directed a summer camp years ago, I set up the LARGE public school lunch room into four areas,with four teachers: a home living center, science center for hands on science activities. Another for arts and crafts, and the 4th area was for literacy and story telling/writing and acting out our own plays. (my area.)

The 80 students (4-11 year olds) were divided into four age groups that rotated. The third age group, 8 and 9 year olds enjoyed the home living and  imaginative play area more than the other groups. 

They played dress up and  did problem solving, and really PLAYED. 

 

My theory was that they missed a stage of development because they were forced to sit at desks and do school work when they still needed to move, play, and use their imagination to create.  

History Repeats Itself

 

We babysat great-grandson Jackson overnight last weekend and had so much fun. He loved the swimming pool and dozens of plastic fishies. But what he really liked was...

splashing water on me and making me squeal. I yeled, "No! No! No!" and shook my hair, which made him giggle loud and long. Love those belly laughs.

Jackson is Paw-Paw Bill's buddy,or maybe I should say partner in crime, as Bill egged him on, much to the delight of both of them.

Kyle and Ashley, our first grandchildren are 33 and almost 37. 

Kyle and Abby are Jackson's parents.

Ashley and Justin are Liam's, Alex's, and Charlie's parents. 

We feel so blessed to have been a huge part of their lives and now their childrens'. 

One of Kyle's and Ashley's favorite childhood memories is helping Paw Paw pic tomatoes every summer from the time they could toddle. The torch has been passed.

One year when they were three and seven, Bill had
ankle surgery and could not prepare his garden in spring. Kyle and Ashley asked if they could dig in the dirt, so we gave them each a huge serving spoon and sent them outdoors. 

They came inside and ran back out several times. An hour later they came in beaming, "Come out, PawPaw Bill; we planted your garden for you." They'd discovered a shopping bag filled with artificial flowers that I'd intended to use at preschool for crafts.

We looked out at the backyard plot of barren soil. It looked like a crazy quilt of every variety of fake flowers you can imagine. One of our favorite memories! 

When Ashley saw the picture of  Jackson as the next harvester helping Paw Paw, she texted me. 

"If Kyle did not shed a tear at this picture, tell him I will punch him and MAKE him cry." LOL

Kyle replied, "Tell her to hold off on the punch. I might be a farmer with a tough exterior, but I am not a robot." LOL

Then he sent the most heartfelt and loving thank you for being the best Nana. I told  him we felt blessed to be able to do it all again. I sent pictures of baby Jack looking at his scrap book with me, working puzzles, playing choo-choo with Paw-Paw using the same Fisher Price train he and Ashley played with, and also of Jackson painting with shaving cream on the back storm door window, then handing Paw-Paw a big handful of shaving cream! 

Kyle said, "We are blessed to have you and Gramps. You are the nana every kid wants and deserves. We are so glad you are OURS!" 

Free flowing tears of love and gratitude. No wonder my nose is stuffy.

Shape Up!

 Check it out if you want a chuckle. My latest story is on line and in print in Colorado. 

You can read it at PrairieTimes.com

Click on the current issue and scroll down to page 7. I hope you enjoy reading about my attempt to shape up.