"We ordered new diapers," my friend told me this afternoon when I went over to babysit. "Even though we sized up, she's still been having blowouts."
I nodded sympathetically. I had witnessed one myself just the other day.
"Anyway," my friend sighed, "I Googled diapers for short, chubby babies and got a recommendation. They'll be here tomorrow."
"That makes sense!" I laughed. "But never tell her that!"
"Rhode Island Red," I pointed at the chicken and turned to my friend Mary. "Exceptional breed!"
"I loved that story," Mary sighed, immediately recognizing the quote from Marshfield Dreams by Ralph Fletcher, excerpts of which we had taught for many years.
We were at Oxon Hill Farm, a National Park Service site on the eastern bank of the Potomac just south of DC, and quite a few chickens were milling about. It was not our planned destination; in fact we had already spent a fun hour smacking golf balls at Topgolf. If I hadn't missed the ramp on the way home, we would have been zipping over the river by then instead of strolling the grounds of this little working farm.
The bookstore and visitor center were right ahead, and a friendly ranger greeted us as we pushed through the door. "What can you tell us about this place?" Mary asked, and he was off and running, giving us at least ten minutes of history and an overview of the present-day operation.
There was the usual stripping of land rights from the indigenous Piscataway, followed by a Protestant revolution that turned Maryland into a royal colony during the reign of William and Mary, some War of 1812 action, and, of course, slavery. After the Civil War, the farm was divided and subdivided until it was sold to the federal government in 1891. For the next 60 years, it was used as a place where patients from St. Elizabeths Hospital for the Insane worked therapeutically, conveniently also producing food for the hospital.
And now? It's a place where lots of city school kids come to learn about and experience a farm, 289 acres with chickens, cows, horses, and pigs, less than 10 miles from our nation's capital.
The contract for my consulting/coaching gig is in limbo, and it looks like the school system finally got their sub program to the point where one no longer has her pick of dozens of jobs, so my days have opened up.
Or have they?
I'm still bowling, walking my neighbor's dog, and going on adventures with my friend Mary. Plus, I've volunteered to give our friends with the new baby a couple of hours two days a week; I'll hold, feed, or change Pebbles while they fold laundry, do dishes, take showers, or whatever. A little dopamine and oxytocin can only do me good!
I accidentally mistyped my blog's address the other night and ended up on the wrong website. When I typed the name again, my browser triggered an AI search, which turned out to be very entertaining.
It looks like you are searching for tswalkingthedog, which primarily references a personal blog hosted on Blogger (Blogspot).
• Writing Style: Her posts focus heavily on finding extraordinary meaning in the ordinary—whether that is a funny interaction with a student, a quiet morning walk, a classroom breakthrough, or reflections on the craft of teaching itself.• The Blog Persona: The title of her blog, "Walking the Dog," serves as a metaphor for the steady, intentional pace of her writing process—taking time to step back, observe the world, and process it through storytelling.
• "My Agenda": Often written at the start of a writing challenge, this type of post centers on the anticipation of a new month, setting a mindful intention to observe the world closely.• "Gray's Anatomy": A perfect example of her narrative focus, where she uses an ordinary observation on a dreary March day to reflect on aging, teaching, or human connection.• "Nerding Out": A classic "micro-slice" celebrating simple comforts—like the precise ritual of brewing a genuinely good morning cup of coffee.• "Red Light, Green Light": A playful yet insightful reflection on the natural pauses, stops, and starts in both a school day and a writer's life.
1. The Hook: An ordinary event (a rainy commute, a funny phrase muttered by a student, or a quiet walk).2. The Shift: Tracey pauses to look closer at the detail most people would brush past.3. The Takeaway: She ties it back to a universal truth about patience, the joy of learning, or the importance of slowing down.
I couldn't resist. "She sounds pretty great!" I typed in the chatbox.
She really does. It takes a lot of dedication to consistently show up, slow down, and find the beauty in the ordinary pieces of a school day or a quiet morning walk. Educators like Tracey, who actively practice the writing craft they teach, bring a unique kind of empathy and passion to their students.
Aw, shucks!
10-4 Good Buddies!
I saw a Christmas commercial today.
And why not? There are only 81 shopping days left until the big day. So put away your pumpkin spice, folks. Evidently, it's already eggnog season.
"Did you have a good run?" our friend asked her husband.
"I did!" he answered.
"Was it nice to be away from your baby?" she cracked.
"Sooo nice," he sighed. Then he looked at us. "To be clear, I love my child, but..." His eyes widened, and he shook his head.
"She's all-consuming right now?" I suggested.
"So true," his wife nodded.
"We have entered the baby zone," agreed her husband.
"As vast as space and as timeless as infinity?" I asked.
"Definitely," he laughed.
I shifted my weight from foot to foot and scanned the retail shelf idly as I waited. We were at a local pharmacy for Heidi to get her COVID booster. "Those kids are disgusting!" she had said when I picked her up from school this afternoon. "If they can? They will make me sick for sure!"
Now, as she waited behind the partition to receive her shot, the particular section I was standing by was dedicated to sleeping. It was an exhaustive inventory, to say the least, spanning the shelves from bottom to top for at least half of an aisle. It included melatonin, chemical sleep aids, face masks, earplugs, electronic monitors, sound machines, and even some sort of smart alarm clock.
When did sleep, or lack of it, become such a big business? I wondered. Has it always been such an issue and we are just now addressing it head-on, or has insomnia escalated? Does it vary by region or nation? What is keeping so many people awake?
"All done!" Heidi interrupted my thoughts. "That's one less thing to worry about."
