To All the Folks I've Known Before

I once calculated that I taught somewhere near 3,000 students over the course of my career as a sixth-grade English teacher. With the exception of my nephews, I don't see any of them regularly. I do think of kids I've known often, though. Sometimes I run into them, all grown up, or nearly so, in this small town we all live in. Sometimes, I'll see someone who reminds me of a former student, or hear a song someone sang, or think of a book we read together, or remember a story they wrote or an anecdote they shared. And at those times, I'm always grateful for the brief time we knew each other so very well.

The same is true of colleagues. It happens sometimes that you work very closely or in the same school for years, and then someone moves on, and you lose touch. I used to feel guilty for not being a better correspondent, but I realized that was a waste of energy. So now whenever those folks come to mind, I intentionally take a moment to recall something I valued about them, wish them well, and send some loving kindness their way.

Today? It was Roula, a fellow teacher who fiercely protected her students' right to learn, always spoke her mind, and shared a cool recipe for tahini sauce: squeeze a lemon, then fill the empty shell with water to get the right balance of acidity for your tahini and garlic. Wherever she is, I hope she is happy and well. I made the sauce to go with dinner tonight, and it was perfect.

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing. 

Who Does That on a Wednesday?

"I haven't seen you in forever!" A neighbor hailed me this afternoon when we were both out with our dogs. "How's retirement?'

"Well," I answered, trying not to look at my watch. "I took on a consulting job as a teacher coach."

She laughed. "I knew it! You're not the type to sit around, are you?"

I shrugged. "And did I tell you I joined a bowling league?"

She shook her head and laughed again.

"It's good, though," I told her. "Those two things keep me busy, but usually not too busy." 

What I didn't say was that I had just gotten home from two observations over in Maryland, and I needed to run to make a doctor's appointment before coming home to debrief with the teachers on Zoom. 

Maybe I'll do that no-plans thing on Saturday.

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing. 

Hyper Locavore

Way back in 2009, right around the time I started this blog, I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver's revelatory account of the year she and her family committed to eating only locally produced food, and, as much as possible, homegrown meat and vegetables. For months, I aspired to live a similar life, and I actually got a community garden plot the following year. I also shop at local farmers' markets and have participated in a CSA for a decade and a half.

But the thing from the book that's stuck with me was how many staple items are nearly impossible to source locally. Take something as simple as salt, for example (although I do know someone who knows someone who processes gourmet salt in a beach town on the Eastern shore). Now consider pepper, coffee,  chocolate, cinnamon, or even lemons.

The Kingsolver family made exceptions for such pantry items, and each member of the household was allowed to select one "luxury" item that did not fit the guidelines. That's reasonable, but I'm still stuck on producing everything myself, if only on a tiny scale. A few years ago, I decided that I wanted to grow every single ingredient for my summer tomato sauce in my garden. In addition to the obvious tomatoes and herbs, I also planted shallots and garlic. I was stumped by the olive oil, though.

Last summer, I saw a little olive tree for sale at Trader Joe's, and I thought that maybe in a few years? I'd have just enough olives to crush for one batch of that tomato sauce. I didn't realize that olive trees need time in the cold or that they won't fruit, and my plan to winter it over in the guest room was a bust. They can really only tolerate lows in the 20s, though, and that posed a bit of a problem until I rigged a heating mat and plant cozy up on the deck. 

I'm proud to say my olive is still alive and maybe even thriving, despite one of the coldest winters we've had in many years. That success has inspired me! The olive tree has some company now-- a cinnamon tree, a coffee bush, and a tiny little black pepper vine. Oh, and the lemon tree is on its way!

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing. 

Let the Pros Handle It

After reading Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell, I just couldn't imagine how Chloe Zhao could adapt the profoundly moving novel into a movie, because the book is mainly composed of the characters' inner thoughts. Ironically, in a work featuring the man who is often considered to be the greatest English playwright, there is so very little dialogue. And even after watching Jessie Buckley sweep the awards season and reading all the praise of her performance? I'm so much of a word person that I still didn't get it.

Until this afternoon.

With all manner of severe weather warnings closing schools and businesses all around us, we decided to draw the curtains, forget about the wild 21st-century world outside, and watch Hamnet. Within minutes, the adaptation and all the awards made so much sense. Jessie Buckley honestly didn't need dialogue at all to communicate suspicion, desire, love, compassion, panic, anguish, catharsis, and reconnection. It was an incredible performance.

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing. 

Doing My Part

It is not unusual to find a collection of shells and other beachcombing treasures on the deck of many seaside homes. We have certainly added our finds to those collections at many of the vacation rentals we've stayed in over the years. This weekend, our retreat is a riverhouse, so we weren't really expecting shells, but neither were we expecting the collection of ironwork festooning the stairs up to the front door.

One stroll down the gravel path that runs along the Susquehanna and the adjoining railroad tracks was explanation enough. On the mile walk down to the local wildflower preserve, we found spikes, clips, clamps, nuts, washers, bolts, and even a few lumps of coal, all for the collecting. And while they didn't slip quite so easily into a pocket as shells or sea glass might, there was a certain appeal to their heft, and I confess to carrying a couple of forged iron souvenirs back to the house.

Where they joined the collection on the steps, of course.

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing. 

The Ordinary

There's something about being on vacation that elevates the mundane for me. Rather than lying around seeking refuge from my day-to-day, I love figuring out how to riff on my daily routine in a whole new place. 

So, you might often find me scouring the rental house kitchen, supplementing their tools with the ones I packed, and collaborating with my brother to rustle up something delicious from whatever we could find at the local market and grocery. You might also encounter me walking the dog along a wooded trail, up a mountain,  or on a beach near our temporary digs. 

And tonight? You could peek through wide picture windows just after sunset and see me seated at the long counter overlooking the mighty Susquehanna, my computer screen reflected in my reading glasses as I write this, surrounded by people I love and the warm glow of the river house behind me.

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing. 

First Night in Pequea

This is our annual weekend away for the Oscars, and this year we have rented a home in Pequea, PA, right on the banks of the Susquehanna. The sky was leaden, and there were wind advisories when we headed north a little after noon. But the closer we got to the Mason-Dixon Line, the brighter it became. By the time we arrived, it was a porcelain blue, and the late afternoon sun was cutting a blinding swath across the river. The sunset was muted; a pale yellow fading to gold and finally indigo as Venus brightened in the western sky.

Why take on just one challenge when you can tackle two? This month, I'm using the Action for Happiness Mindful March calendar as a daily prompt for living and writing.