Mixed Signals

There was a carnival-like atmosphere at the home opener for the Nats today. Parking was out of the question, so we metroed over, leaving the car in the garage of the nearby mall, but it wasn't until we crowded into the green line train at L'Enfant Plaza that the party began. 

Everyone was decked out in their fan duds, and the fact that there was as many Dodgers jerseys as there were hometown gear, might have been a tipoff. Even so, who could blame anyone for being excited to see the back-to-back world champs featuring the best player in baseball? 

And for an inning or two, it even seemed like the home team might pull off an upset, especially when Miles Mikolas struck out the lead-off batter, none other than Ohtani himself, and CJ Abrams hit a three-run homer in the bottom of the first. But the Dodgers have an incredible offense, and answering that homer with five of their own, they killed the Nats 13-6. 

"I don't think we've ever seen them win!" Heidi said in disgust as we headed out the gates. 

"Maybe not," I shrugged, "but they did score more runs than we've ever seen today."

Long Shot

I think my interest in space was renewed last year, around this time, when I took a long-term sub job teaching sixth-grade science. The unit was on weather and the atmosphere, and as I reviewed the material to prepare, I remembered how fascinating both topics could be. I also recognized some gaps in my understanding of those subjects, particularly regarding the layers of the atmosphere and where outer space actually begins. 

Yesterday, as I was working at my laptop, I received a news alert that the Artemis II mission was minutes away from launching its journey to the moon. I clicked on the link and joined the live feed showing the enormous rocket in that classic position at Kennedy Space Center. As they ran through their final checklists, I considered when I last watched a manned rocket launch.

It may have been in January of 1986. At that time, I was enthralled by the notion of sending a teacher to space, and I eagerly joined my father in front of his enormous TV. We watched the crew waving in their blue jumpsuits as they boarded the bus to the launch pad, and of course, we saw what happened 73 seconds into the flight. I guess it's no surprise that I haven't really wanted to see anything blastoff since then.

As I waited for the countdown to resume, I studied the graphics describing the mission and flight plan. It seemed hard to believe that it would take four days to get to the moon, that bright rock that we see in the sky almost every night. I read that this was the first time human beings would leave Earth's low orbit since 1972. I was in 5th grade then, and flying to the moon seemed like a normal occurrence, a lot like launching the space shuttle seemed a decade or so later. 

I heard mission control wish the crew good luck and Godspeed, and then ten, nine, eight. The earth rumbled, and fire, smoke, and steam surged from the propulsion nozzle, thrusting the frame and the payload into the clear blue Florida sky. Safely. And they were on their way to the moon.

The Great Bollard Debate

Heidi, bless her heart, is on the board of our homeowner's association, a thankless role she regularly curses. Recently, our community replaced our aging lighting system at significant expense. As part of the upgrade, the lighting company installed bollards in front of some of the lamp posts most vulnerable to damage from cars or delivery trucks. 

The installation makes sense to protect our investment and was included in the comprehensive plan approved by the board. What was not noted, however, was that the bollards would be four feet tall and sheathed in a high-visibility shade of safety yellow. Understandably, when they appeared, they became the subject of a lot of neighborhood chatter, especially because they are so hard to miss. 

Some residents demanded their immediate removal, prompting the board to clap back. Others wondered if they could be another color, acknowledging their usefulness, but wishing to dial back their industrial appearance. 

Ever since this controversy erupted, Heidi and I have noticed and discussed the bollards wherever we go. Friends! They are everywhere! And they come in all sizes and shapes, which raises the question: who chose our bollards and why? 

As of today, the board has not been able to come to an agreement about the issue, although one of the members did confess on their text chain that she was all bollarded out, and once this was resolved, she hoped never to hear the word again, or at least not in such frequency.

Here and Now

It's fun to travel, but it's always sweet to get back home. After a day spent on the road yesterday, I slept in this morning and enjoyed a late breakfast of coffee and cinnamon toast made from homemade bread. I went through the mail, caught up with neighbors, and enjoyed relaxing with the cat on my lap in my easy chair. The sliding glass door is open to let in the warm spring air, and a light breeze ruffles the barely-budding branches as doves, robins, and cardinals fly back and forth from my neighbor's bird feeder. In a few minutes, I'll head out to walk the dog, and after that, it will be a light supper of fresh veggies and fish. 

Maybe tomorrow will be more ambitious, but I doubt it will be any better.

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 Aging Road Warrior

It used to be nothing to load up the car and head out on a road trip of 8, 10, or even 12 hours. Sure, we were always happy when we arrived, maybe even a little tired, but there was no soreness on getting out of the car, much less any fatigue while on the way. "You drove straight through?" our parents might ask with amazement, and we would shrug as if such a feat were a given. Because it was.

But today? After 4 hours in the car? Youch! And there were still another three to go! We are definitely going to have start planning stretch breaks.

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. 

Detour Ahead

We were still processing as we headed to the airport on Friday to fetch Heidi's nephew, Kyle. His presence was planned as a surprise for her mom's 80th birthday celebration, but her brother had let it slip the night before. 

"It makes me mad!" I started, "but maybe I'm just disappointed."

Heidi nodded. "My mom doesn't really like surprises anyway," she pointed out with a shrug. "So maybe it was for the best."

"But we didn't even get to be there when he wrecked it!" I groused. "Oh, crap!" I said. "I just missed the exit for the airport! That's what I get for complaining."

The map app blinked disapprovingly, and then recalculated, adding 15 minutes to our arrival. Fortunately, traffic was lighter than predicted and we made good time, meeting Kyle just as he whooshed through the big doors at arrivals.

This morning? It was a different story. The party was over, and we all agreed it had been success. The visit had been fun and too short, but Kyle had to get back for work, so we piled into the car and headed back to the airport. This time, the vibe was totally different. It was a little early, and the three of us were quieter, making tentative plans for the next time we might see each other. 

It had been a good weekend, and, undistracted by any negativity? I did not stray from the route.

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. 

Not That Tired

"Do you want to play another game of Spit?" my nephew Kyle asked. 

He's 25, but he's an only child, so he missed out on those endless summer days of playing cards with siblings. In our house, the fast-paced game of card stacking was always a favorite, but until this weekend? Kyle had never played. Still, he's usually up for a little competition, and I, if I do say so myself, am a good teacher, so soon we were happily slapping cards on piles. He picked the game up pretty quickly, but even so, he was facing over five decades of experience; I may be old, but I've still got the muscle memory to make a formidable opponent. 

We'd been playing for a while when he posed his question, though, and I declined the challenge, thinking ahead to all the things I still needed to accomplish on this Saturday.

"What? Are you tired of winning?" he taunted me with a raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his blue eyes.

I laughed. "It's on!" I answered. "I think I can beat you at least one more time!"

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.