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. 

Evening Constitutional

It was pouring rain when we arrived in Buffalo after nearly eight hours on the road, and we dashed through the drops to unload the car and get inside the warm house, where dinner was waiting. A couple of hours later, though, a full belly and a day sitting on my butt caught up with me, and I peered into the darkness to see if the rain had let up. 

It had not, but both the dog and I needed some fresh air and a good leg-stretching, so we geared up and headed out into the misty evening. There was a steady, but soft patter of rain on us as we walked the deserted sidewalks, sidestepping as many puddles as we could, but the air was mild, and the wind was still. 

Thirty minutes later, we closed our mile-and-a-half loop, a little damp but relaxed and clear-headed too.

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. 

Offline

I never really thought about it, but maybe one reason I love roadtrips so much is the forced absence of screens. When you're at the wheel heading for the horizon, you can't be on your phone, too. Moreover? I don't miss it. 

And that was true today, as we headed north to Buffalo to celebrate my mother-in-law's 80th birthday. We saw cherry blossoms, daffodils, mountains, pastures, horses, log cabins, cemeteries, and trailer parks as we drove through sun and torrential rain. We talked, listened to an audiobook, and sang along with the radio, but we didn't swipe, tap, scroll, like, save, or delete a single thing. 

It was pretty wonderful.

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. 

Red Light, Green Light

One of my favorite NY Times writers, Melissa Kirsch, has started a new weekly newsletter called The Good List. Subscribers receive an email every Wednesday with a curated collection of "ideas, rituals, and artifacts to add joy to your days." I was sold when I read about the idea a couple of weekends ago in Kirsch's regular Saturday essay, but after 2 weeks? I'm all in!

At the end of this week's installment, Kirsch added a recommendation from a reader: instead of griping about all the red lights you hit while driving, consider counting all the green lights you make. It might just shift your mood!

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. 

A Hand for my Hands

My hands were busy today! 

They brewed coffee, packed lunch, made tart dough, and held gyan mudra for eleven minutes during meditation. They washed and dried my hair, drove me to bowling, and high-fived my teammates after throwing five strikes and picking up 11 spares. They switched my bowling bag for my work bag and took notes throughout a 90-minute meeting for test coordinators preparing for the upcoming SOLs. They snapped photos of the flock of cedar waxwings that was right.outside.the.window! Then they leashed up the dog and kept her close as we walked the neighborhood. And now they are limbering up to roll out that dough and top it with caramelized onions and greens to serve with tossed salad for dinner, just as soon as they finish typing this appreciation.

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. 

FOMO

I was feeling frazzled as I settled into the tiny blue chair next to the bookshelf and carpet. I had been scheduled to observe this first-grade class at 8:30, but an accident at rush hour on I-295 had doubled my travel time, and I was late. I took a deep breath, adjusted my glasses, pulled out my pen and pad, and prepared to record what I was seeing. 

Six little scholars were sitting at the focus group table, blending sounds into words with their teacher as she played a phonemic awareness "game" with them. I was beginning to write when, over my shoulder, I heard whispering. I turned toward the murmur, and I saw another little girl following along with the lesson from her desk. She was supposed to be working on Lexia on her device, but she was acing the game instead—quietly answering every question correctly.

I laughed, and when I turned back to my observation, I realized that all the tensions of my troublesome travels were gone. I guess I just needed a little first-grade mojo.

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. 

Keepin it Elastic

As a child, I was always a quick learner, and that quality has certainly shaped how I see myself, even today. No doubt it played a role in my becoming a teacher; quick learners often love school. And, as an educator, of course, I value lifelong learning. I used to love it when students knew things I didn't, and for many years, I challenged myself to learn random things that were of interest to them, for example, the names of the Backstreet Boys, performing The Cup Song, and how to say the Pledge of Allegiance in ASL. 

In my last few years of teaching, I had several kids who knew all the flags of the world, and that actually confounded me, maybe because there are so many. At the same time, my sister became an avid fan of the online game, Worldle, where you have to identify a country simply by its outline. Both of these tasks were really hard for me to learn, and I had to face the fact that my brain was not as elastic as it once was.

There are plenty of geography games on the internet, though, and recently I've been challenging myself to play both Travle, where you have to find the shortest route from one country to another by naming the nations in between (in order, please!), and GeoConnections, where you have to sort 16 facts into four categories matching a single country each (including the flag). 

It's still hard! But I am seeing progress. I know a lot more about the world than I used to, and I'm learning more all the 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. 

Somehow I'm Neither Here nor There

The vacation home we rented last weekend in Pequea (pronounced peck-way) PA was situated right on the Susquehanna, with only a rutted dirt lane and the Port Road Branch of Norfolk Southern Railroad separating us from the river's edge. The house was well insulated from the rumble of the passing trains, which seemed to travel only at night. And although I can't say I slept through the noise, I can say it lulled me right back to sleep once I knew what it was.

There was a dreamlike quality to the weekend —muted sunsets and morning mist on the river, and then those trains that seemed to whisper by all night. We all felt it, I think, and we channeled the spellbinding setting into creating playlists of songs about trains.

I've been listening to mine ever since we got back.

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. 

In Her Nature

"Do you love it here?" Heidi crooned to Lucy as we headed down the trail at the Elizabeth Hartwell Nature Preserve. A bald eagle flew right over heads.

Lucy wagged her tail, nose slammed to the ground, inhaling all the new smells.

"She's so happy!" Heidi said. "That makes me happy!"

"I know," I nodded. "That's why we're here."

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. 

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. 

I Can Do Better

Are you listening, or are you just waiting to talk?

When asked this question, I indignantly answer the former. Of course, I'm not just waiting to talk! I don't even like talking that much.

Are you listening or are you thinking about what you're going to say next?

But when the question is reframed, I have to admit that mild social anxiety, and perhaps the fact that I don't really like to talk, make me lean to the latter. Sometimes? I am preoccupied thinking about what I should say to contribute to the conversation, and I miss part of it. Other times, I have to confess I'm thinking about what I can say to get out of the conversation.

That's not very nice.

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. 

Nerding Out

In December of 2024, we splurged and treated ourselves to an Advent calendar from Onyx Coffee Lab, an amazing outfit based in Arkansas. For 24 days, we enjoyed delicious beans sourced from Mexico, Guatemala, Brazil, Colombia, El Salvador, Kenya, and Ethiopia, and roasted at their headquarters in Rogers, AR. I've always been kind of a coffee snob, but this experience was transformational. Along with 50 grams of coffee per day, we received tasting notes, brewing guides, and information on farming and processing. 

Onyx elevates coffee to an art, and I was hooked! At the time, my preferred brewing apparatus was a burr grinder and a Chemex pour-over, but I added a gooseneck kettle with temperature control, a scale with a timer, a couple of smaller pots, some fluted drippers, and organic paper filters to my equipment. I also order all of our coffee directly from a roaster, making my selection based on origin, processing (light-expressive, please!), and tasting notes. (pineapple brulee, cocoa nib, or marmalade, anyone?)

It's an expensive hobby! But I am intentional in my brewing, preparing just one serving at a time. (What can I say? I'm retired!) By now, I have the routine down to a science, and even so, I think not relying on a whole pot to replenish my cup makes me slow down. I am never disappointed with that first sip, or any of the later ones, either.

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. 

How Did They Know?

Today was surely the day to get outside! Temperatures in the 70s and sunshine and blue skies as far as you could see made it a perfect spring day. It's so early in the season that the trees are still bare, and so feeling the pleasant warmth of the sun on your face is inescapable, but there's still an underlying coolness to the air that balances that heat perfectly. Hat and sunglasses were nice, but not necessary as the dog and I made our way through the mild morning.

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. 

Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah

Before I took on the teacher-coaching position I have now, it had been a while since I had run any kind of virtual meeting. Of course, I built that skill set during SY 2020-21, when we started the year teaching from home and ended it with a hybrid model, with some of the kids in the classroom while others opted to continue learning remotely.

Back then, I was pretty adept at all the bells and whistles of the platform-- taking attendance, sharing my screen, using the chat, creating breakout rooms, and muting participants if necessary. Not surprisingly, there have been changes and upgrades in the past five years, and now, like so many things, AI has changed the way online meetings work, too.

A couple of things AI can offer are a transcript and a summary of any call, complete with to-do lists for all participants. These features come with a disclaimer (for now) that AI can make mistakes, and an advisement to check for errors. In my experience, the errors have been few, though, and the summaries are actually pretty helpful. 

The transcripts, on the other hand? Are painful to read, especially when I focus on my part. I notice a lot of filler words, unnecessary repetition, and clear instances of me thinking out loud and trailing off senselessly. To my own eyes and ears, I sound like a dork.

It must be more than coincidence, I think, that lately my social media feed has been full of ads for programs that can make one sound more like an executive, confident and clear, as a speaker. It seems like AI and its minion algorithms agree with me on my professional conversational skills. 

But rather than pay for an app or a course to improve, I decided to consult, what else? AI, which kindly gave me a list of seven helpful phrases, five habits that make you sound more authoritative, a three-point simple structure for clear speaking, and four helpful reminders. The first reminder is to pause before responding.

I have a couple of calls this afternoon, and I think I'll do just that.

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. 

Bowl of Cherries

Earlier in the week, I bought some frozen chocolate-covered cherries, thinking they would be a small, relatively healthy bite of sweetness after dinner. Unfortunately, they were a little weird texture-wise: the frozen chocolate was brittle, and the cherries were mushy and sour. They were easy not to overindulge in.

Not to worry! Chopped up and added to a batch of scones with a little almond flavoring and a sprinkle of sugar on top, the fruit added just the right amount of sweet and tart, and the chocolate was much better melted. The scones were crisp on top, with a rich, dense crumb. 

Although they were the opposite of small and healthy, they were delicious, and I enjoyed every bite.

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. 

Check, Check, Check

Even though retired me can usually take care of all the errands during the week while Heidi is at work, there are times when we both miss our old weekend routine of heading out together with a list of stops to make and chores to check off. Today was a Saturday like that. 

The day dawned damp and gray, and Lucy had a grooming appointment at 10, so it seemed like a good idea to drop her off and start our to-do list. First up was the library, where I had some holds to pick up, and Heidi needed to renew her card. Then we were off to the car wash to scrub all the crow poop from the car. (But that's another post!)

Our next stop was the pet supply center for food and treats for our dog and cats, although we lingered at the birds, reptiles, and fish, wondering if there might be a place in our home for one (or a dozen) of them. And we were just on our way to pick up an order in town when we got the call that Lucy was ready, so we swung by to collect her before crossing the river into the city.

A little while later, we were on our way home, feeling neither rushed nor harried, but rather quite satisfied at all we had accomplished together.

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. 

At a Pup's Pace

Walking the dog can be a delicate balance of pace. While I want to get out for a little brisk exercise, she wants to take her time and enjoy all the scents along the way. I'm all for stopping to smell the roses (occasionally), but must we also pause for every light post, fire hydrant, and even the weird frogs on a neighbor's stoop? 

I also understand that sniffing is a dog's version of social media, just as stooping for a quick pee afterwards is the equivalent of a like. But two miles an hour? Is too slow. 

I will concede this, though: considering all the dog poop my negligent neighbors have left in the aftermath of the snow, my dog never even comes close to stepping in it. 

I wish I could say the same for myself.

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. 

Mwah!

In the summer of 2006, I participated in the Northern Virginia Writing Project Summer Institute. Spending three weeks learning and writing with teachers from all over Northern Virginia was a career-changing experience.  

An essential part of the institute was putting all of us into writing groups, and three afternoons a week, we met with four of our peers to share writing, receive feedback, and offer suggestions. So, not only was I immersed in pedagogy and literacy, but I was forced to become, in practice, the teacher-writer I knew I should be.

Three big things came out of that summer: 

1) I recentered my middle school ELA class on writing. 

2) I collaborated with a colleague to use our district's LMS (Blackboard) to build a virtual writing community shared by students in two different schools (remember, this was September 2006, the exact same month Facebook launched). 

3) Three teacher friends and I formed a writing group with the intention to meet regularly, enjoy a nice dinner, and share our writing.

Twenty years on, I'm retired, but I'd like to think I left a bit of a legacy at my school. Students there still participate in the 100 Day Writing Challenge I created after completing this very SOLSC in 2009. As for Write Here, Write Now, the virtual writing community we built back then, if we could have captured that lightning in a bottle, I might be writing to you from my seaside estate in some exotic location.

But my writing group? Continues on! And it is those friends, Ellen, Leah, and Mary, whom I am thinking of today. I love you all!

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

Bedside Manner

Another plus to retirement is that I finally feel like I have the time to schedule, not to mention attend, all those health check-ups my primary care provider recommends. I've always been good about the basics: dentist, annual physical, and mammogram, but some of the others often slipped through the cracks in my calendar. 

Recently, I was at a new dermatologist for an annual skin check. "How long has it been since your last screening?" she asked.

"It's been a few years," I admitted.

"I don't mean to scold," she started mildly, "but--"

"Go ahead and let me have it!" I interrupted with a laugh. "I deserve it!"

"Generally, we try not to lecture," she replied, "because we do want you to come back. Every year." She looked at me kindly but pointedly. "No one likes to feel judged."

She was right! And in the name of convenience and self-care, I scheduled my appointment for next year on my way out.

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

I ❤️ Tuesdays

Many years ago, after the principal of our school retired, everyone always commented on how great she looked whenever we saw her. "You have to stay busy!" she would advise us with a relaxed smile. "I have all my bags lined up by the door. Monday is tennis; Tuesday is bowling; Thursday is golf, and I have my church and my family, too."

It just so happens that Tuesday is my bowling day, now, too. Thanks to her, I've joined a women's league with many former school employees. On the thirty Tuesdays of the season, we meet at a local bowling center at 10 a.m. (which seems like such a civilized start time to me!) and, with our team of three, bowl three games against another of the ten teams in the league. The game meets you where you are, and despite the league's average age being around 75 years old, it's very competitive and really fun. 

I once took an eight-week rowing class on the Potomac River. "How many of you are here to get in shape?" asked the instructor on the first morning. Lots of us raised our hands. "What you need to understand," he continued, "is that you row because you love it. Crew doesn't get you in shape, you have to get in shape for crew." He had a point, and although I liked rowing? I didn't love it, and after those eight weeks, I found other ways to work out. 

I do love bowling, though! And knowing that lifting, squatting, lunging, and ab work might improve my average is a great motivator for working out these days.

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

Gray's Anatomy

The book I'm reading, 33 Place Brugman, by Alice Austen, tells the story of WWII and the occupation of Belgium through the voices of the residents of the apartment building at the eponymous address in Brussels.  The story is full of heroes, villains, philosophers, and artists, and explores how the horrors of war test one's humanity. 

One of the characters I find most engaging is Charlotte Sauvin, a college student living with her architect father. Charlotte is colorblind, but fundamentally artistic; her colorblindness is not a shortcoming but rather shapes her perspective and finely shades her observations. 

Many of the other characters spend time wondering how Charlotte sees what they are seeing; some wish she could see it the way they do, but Charlotte herself never wonders what the world looks like beyond her ability to see it. Why should she? There is beauty in her perception.

I thought of Charlotte on this bleak March day. The leaden sky, bare branches, and congregations of crows could be considered dreary. But they also create a dreamy monochrome; walking the dog is like being inside a black-and-white photograph. The unrelenting gray tones offer no promise of spring, yet they are beautiful on their own, independent of yesterday's holly in the bright snow or tomorrow's daffodils blooming in the first green grass.

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

My Agenda

When I retired a couple of years ago, finding a new structure for my days was one of the hardest parts of leaving the classroom. When you're a teacher, a bell literally rings to tell you when it's time for your next commitment on a schedule that was set by someone else. After thirty-plus years of that, I found myself at loose ends when it was up to me to fill my days.

But now, halfway through my second year of retirement, I feel like I'm finally settling into it. With time for lunches and more dinners out with friends, as well as my bowling league, subbing at my former school, and a consulting job as a teacher coach, my calendar seems more full than ever. 

As much as I'm enjoying the variety and flexibility of my new life, juggling all those activities and keeping my own schedule has been tougher than I imagined. The calendar on my phone used to be little more than a novelty, but it's my best friend now!

Why do one challenge when you can do two? This month, I'm going to use the Action for Happiness calendar as a daily prompt for action and writing. Today's activity? Set an intention to live with awareness and kindness.

Taxing

I've been filing my own taxes since I started earning money in college, but gone are the days when all I needed for the chore was the 1099 booklet, one W-2, a single INT form, a pencil, and a stamp.

Over the decades, a series of employer-contribution fund changes, home ownership, marriage, and inheritance have made my finances increasingly complex. Retirement and my new part-time gigs haven't helped either, and when I logged on to an online tax prep service this morning, the helpful bot who greeted me cheerfully predicted it would take only four hours and 37 minutes to complete the task.

I suppose I ought to be grateful that I have an income to be taxed. 

And I am!

Counting the Years

"How old are you?" asked a cheeky first grader when he sat down next to me at the literacy center I was observing.

"How old are you?" I asked in return.

"Six," he answered with a slightly insolent chin nod.

"I'm ten and a half times that," I replied.

"So you're a hundred?" he said.

Fortunately, it was not a math center, so I ignored his miscalculation. "Why don't you get started on your word family assignment?" I suggested.

Of Course

"Just so you know," the teacher whispered to me as I slipped into my observation chair, "there's going to be a fire drill at 8:30."

I laughed and shrugged, but when that high-pitched intermittent siren went off? I jumped. Then I got up, joined the line of quiet first graders, and exited the building through the door in their classroom. As we stood in the chilly February morning, I surveyed the school building. Built in 1952, it had the sprawling design of the elementary schools of my childhood: single story, brick on the outside, cinder block on the inside, with rows of hopper windows. 

At least we can go right back in, I thought, eying the blue door as a cold wind cut through my sweater. But that was not to be. Although the school seemed unchanged since it was built over 70 years ago, there was actually an obvious security upgrade. 

The classroom doors could no longer be opened from the outside. So we all walked silently down the sidewalk and in through the front entrance.

High Bar

The teacher had given the directions. 

"It's simple," she assured her students. "You know that one of the five requirements for a sentence is that it starts with a capital letter, so you just need to correct the first letter of these sentences," she pointed to the worksheet, "and then write them on the line below."

After asking if there were any questions or concerns, she moved to the focus group table and called a student over to work. The rest of the class settled into their task, and it wasn't long before a little girl slipped her paper into the green basket next to where I was sitting. "Can I see that?" I asked.

She shrugged and walked away, and I plucked the worksheet out of the bin and flipped it over. It appeared to be blank, except for her name.

As she bustled about her desk, pulling out her device and preparing to do the next task, I caught her eye and waved. "C'mere," I mouthed, pointing at the paper. 

She sighed and reluctantly returned.

"You were supposed to do this!" I said in mock surprise.

She pointed to lightly scrawled pencil marks at the beginning of each sentence. 

"Are these the capital letters?" I asked.

She nodded.

"You were supposed to write the sentence, with the capital letter, on this line,"  I pointed.

She took the worksheet from my hand and put it back in the basket.

"You're probably going to have to do it again!" I whispered.

She shrugged and returned to her seat.

Meanwhile, our quiet conversation had caught the kids at the nearest table's attention.

"What the heck?!" said one to the other with a look of utter disbelief on his face.

"She said it was easy," his friend shook his head, "but it's impossible!"

Ties That Bind

"Did you hear Ellen is retiring?" I asked Mimi about our dear mutual friend at bowling this morning.

Mimi was the assistant principal at our school when Ellen started there back in 1992. She was also a mentor when Ellen moved from the classroom to admin, and a colleague when Ellen was hired as the other assistant principal at our school. As it happens, Sharon, our principal from that time, and Susan, our Director of Counseling, are also in the bowling league; reconnecting with them has been one of the top reasons I've enjoyed bowling so much.

Mimi's face lit up at the news. "No!" she answered. "I'm going to have to give her a call and congratulate her!" 

A little while later, I heard her talking to Sharon and Susan. "We could have our whole admin team here!" she beamed. "Wouldn't that be something?"

Their smiles were as wide as hers.

Underneath It All

I spent my entire teaching career in a compact, self-sufficient school district. For most of that time, it seemed like we didn't care how anybody else was doing anything; we had our own way. It didn't matter, for example, when neighboring school districts started, scheduled breaks, or called off for weather; our central administration made their own calls. We were relatively small, affluent, and independent.

All that changed gradually over the decades I worked there. Starting at the turn of the century, with the Bush administration's No Child Left Behind Act, there was a big push toward standardization, and individual schools and their policies became more centralized at all levels —nationally, statewide, regionally, and within the district. We were all supposed to be doing pretty much the same thing and measuring our success with high-stakes tests.

But I digress. I sat down to write about how I used to only have to check one district to see if my day would be affected by school cancellations or delays, but, ironically, now that I'm retired, I have to check three: one for my wife's schedule, one for my bowling league, and one for my consulting gig. Some things can't be standardized.

I thought that was kind of funny, but now I see I still feel some kind of way about NCLB and all its unintended consequences. All these years later, I still resent the loss of responsiveness and independence that came with uniformity for uniformity's sake.

Magic AI Ball

I can't even remember why I wanted it. 

Something made me think a button that randomly pulls a post from my blog archive would be a fun addition, so I put an AI site on the task and asked for the HTML code I needed to create such a widget. 

Oh my lord! What followed was an hour or so of cutting, pasting, saving, and testing. I will say that AI is a cheerful, confident collaborator. In addition to reassuring me that I wasn't at fault after every failed attempt, it offered a perfect "final solution" (its words, not mine) at least seven times. 

I almost believed it would work before I ran out of free queries, but alas, no such button currently exists. According to the chatbot, the breakdown is a result of several factors-- the sheer number of posts in the archive, the clunkiness of "Blogger being Blogger," and some sort of indexing issue with Google. 

By the end? I almost expected it to say, Reply hazy, try again later.

Barky McBarkster

Maybe it was the fact that, in the next breath, after telling us that Lucy barks for hours when we're not home, our neighbor offered, "It could be ghosts, though. We have at least two down here," that I did not believe it.

"When is she ever even alone?" I asked Heidi, indignantly, "I'm here almost all the time."

"That could be part of the problem," my reasonable wife suggested. "If it's the separation anxiety we've seen in the past, the fact that someone is here most of the time makes the times when she's alone worse."

I was still very skeptical. So much so that I found an app and downloaded it to both my phone and my iPad, turning the iPad into a bark monitor. "Now we'll see about this," I said firmly as I locked the door behind us on our way to see the Oscar Shorts.

The barking started on my phone before we even got to Bill and Emily's to pick them up, and throughout the movies, I received dozens of silent notifications on my watch that Lucy was barking. Even so, I held out hope for false positives, but when we got home, and I checked the activity log, it broke my heart to hear Lucy barking almost constantly, and often desperately, for close to an hour on two occasions.

Assuming it's not ghosts triggering her, our attention turns to solutions. Stay tuned.

She Showed Me

I took Lucy for a long walk this afternoon, passing through the little local shopping center near the end of our sojourn so that I could stop at the pharmacy. Dogs are allowed in there, and in fact, if Lucy had her way, we would go through those aisles every time we were in the area. I also had a library book on hold that I needed to pick up, and since you can check materials out with your phone, I thought it would be easy to sneak in and out the side door with Lucy.

Oh, was I wrong! We were only a few steps into the library, next to the hold shelf, when we ran into two little girls who politely asked if they could pet my dog. As they were exclaiming over her, their dad came over, complimented me on my good dog, and thanked me loudly for being so accommodating. Next thing I knew, a librarian was at my side. 

I gulped, but before I could offer my apology, she pointed to the book and phone in my hand and offered to check it out for me. I stood uncomfortably by the door until she returned and informed me that there was actually another book on hold for me. 

Would I like her to find it on the shelf and check that one out for me, too? 

"Yes," I shrugged awkwardly and waited a bit longer. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience!" I told her as she handed me my book. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome," she answered.

"I'll never bring her again," I promised.

She nodded and walked away.

Lose Lose

Declutter! I wrote on my to-do list yeaterday. Get rid of 10 things! And I did. I found ten things in my closet that I hadn't worn in some time, and I added them to the donate bag. 

Putting away the last of the winter decorations was also on my list, and as I prepared to climb down from the attic after stowing the gnomes, lighted tree branch, and window candles until November, my eye fell on another item that I decided it was finally time to dispose of.

I loved the small wooden rocking chair from the moment I saw it in the thrift shop back in 2018. The price was right, too; I walked out of there only $9.99 lighter in the wallet. It was painted a chipped powder blue, but I paid my grad student neighbor to redo it cherry red, and I took it to school. Everyone wanted to sit in that chair! And I didn't blame them, but I was partial to it myself, so there weren't many opportunities for others to enjoy it.

It was only a few months later, when I returned after a few days' absence, that I found it broken. The sub left a note that he had leaned forward when one of the rockers was under a cabinet, and it cracked in half. He was sorry, but there was no offer of replacement. I tried to fix it over the years: glue, screws, and metal mending plates all worked for a while, but it was unusable by the time I retired in 2024. 

I brought it home anyway, certain that in my retirement I would find the time to mend it permanently, but it has languished in the attic ever since. I took a hard look at it yesterday and, wiggling the arms and back, concluded that it was time to let go. As I wrestled it down the pull-down stairs, it pivoted in my hand and swung hard into the closet door, smashing a hole in the hollow panel. 

I cussed myself out soundly, took the rocker downstairs, and knocked it to pieces for the garbage. Then I sighed and ordered new doors for the closet, because that's another thing that I can't fix.

No Protest Here

There were so many high school kids on the streets when I was walking Lucy this afternoon that I checked my watch to see if I had somehow lost an hour. And I almost asked one of them if school was out early, but he crossed the street before I could. I was even more confused when a carload of kids drove by, and rolled down the window to address a boy walking down the sidewalk. 

"Dude!" one shouted. "Stop skipping!"

The young man smiled and placed his finger to his lips.

I had almost forgotten the whole thing by the time Heidi got home, but then, as she was telling me about her day, she mentioned the walkout that students in our district planned to protest ICE this afternoon, and it all made sense. Clearly, these kids were exercising their right to free speech by taking a free afternoon; today, they walked out and kept going.

To be honest? Given the demographics of that high school, many of the students I saw are likely directly or indirectly affected by the crackdowns. They could well be the people their classmates are organizing to support. And if so, I hope they had a nice afternoon off.

Holiday Collab

"Ramadan starts tonight, dear," a friend of mine told me this afternoon, and we commiserated briefly about the challenges of fasting, especially from smoking, for her.

It wasn't until later, when I was planning dinner (lucky lo mein noodles!), that it occurred to me that the Lunar New Year also starts tonight. And a little while after that? I realized that it's Mardi Gras, so Lent starts tonight, too. Such a convergence delighted me, and I had to find out how rare it was.

A little research revealed that the last time these three events intersected was 1863. Somehow, I don't think many people back then were in a position to even realize such a coincidence; the world was divided into much more homogeneous places, religiously, at least.

The next time? It will be 2189, and by then, maybe the world will be down to celebrate together.

Critics Be Darned

"Who says this is good?" Heidi asked as we tried to follow the idiotic rules of the game and the antics of the celebrities competing on the fourth season of the reality show Traitors. 

"I read favorable reviews in a couple of places," I replied a wee bit defensively, "including The New York Times."

She sighed, unconvinced, but she was tolerant enough to watch the first episode, where the cast was introduced, and the three traitors were identified. Then there was the matter of who the secret traitor was, who would be "murdered," and who would be "banished." 

There was enough of a cliffhanger at the end that we agreed to watch the next episode, but when our questions were mostly answered by the beginning of episode three, we had had enough. 

(Even though the Times had a brief feature today about the show, noting how Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir, the figure skaters-turned-analysts for the Winter Olympics, have made murder almost wholesome. They really do seem to love them some Traitors over there.)

Shopping IRL

"Are you ready to go?" Heidi asked me this afternoon as we were shopping in the gigantic warehouse store.

"Almost," I said, "I just want to scroll down the garden aisle."

Clearly, I've had too much screen time lately.

🤔

"Is she going to make the pepperoni heart-shaped, too?" joked Heidi's brother when she was telling him about our traditional Valentine's Day dinner. 

We laughed, but...

That wasn't a bad idea!

Extra Extra

Our neighbor somehow received three half-gallons of butter pecan ice cream in her grocery order, so after being reimbursed for the error, she's giving some of it away. The grocery store's loss is our gain! I haven't had butter pecan in a while, but I do like it. 

A similar situation happened to me this week, too. I ordered two pounds of coffee late last month, which was supposed to be delivered right as the big snowstorm hit. We had enough coffee to make it through, but we were getting down to the wire a few days ago when I finally contacted the roaster about the no-show package. Customer service was excellent; they shipped my new order right away and contacted the delivery service as well.

A package arrived yesterday, and we were all set for coffee. And then another package arrived today, so now? We have double the beans. I guess I can offer some to my neighbor in exchange for the ice cream-- they will make a delicious pair!

Starting Early

By far my favorite part of my consultant/coach gig is spending time in first-grade classrooms. This morning, I pulled out a tiny chair and sat back to observe a focus group lesson with five squirmy kids. The teacher is good, and she had planned an engaging activity, so it wasn't long before most of the students were listening to stretched-out words pronounced in a choppy "alien" voice so that they could blend them back together into fluent earthling English. 

Except that one little boy! Every time I visit that class, his clothespin is either on "warning" or "lose extra recess," and I'm usually there before 9, so he must get started on his mischief early. Today, he couldn't fully participate in segmenting words with his hand because he was first fidgeting with his pencil. Then? He was reaching under the table for something. When his teacher asked what he had down there, he shrugged innocently, but when she held out her hand, he produced a piece of paper he had hidden in his shoe.

She shook her head and set it aside, but not before I saw what it was. He was hiding the worksheet that the other kids were doing. The teacher had given the assignment directions to the whole class before pulling his group to the table, and he clearly preferred that task. 

"At least he wanted to do work," I laughed when we talked about it on the coaching call later. "Just not the right work."

His teacher looked unconvinced, but then she nodded. "This is why it's good to have another perspective," she agreed.

On Tip Top Toes

I had an unexpected opening in my day today when one of the teachers I'm coaching had to postpone our observation because of testing that was rescheduled after all the snow days. When I got home from my other observation, I changed my clothes and went to the nail salon for a pedicure, since it was finally warm enough to wear slides to and from the car. 

Maybe I was channeling my dental hygienist and his observation about this being a week of self-care; I also had an acupuncture appointment this afternoon. Or maybe, after 2 sessions of PT and with the upcoming acupuncture, I was just tired of people looking at my snaggly feet. 

Either way? My toes look great!

Final Confirmation

Heidi's mom is turning 80 in March, and as a surprise, we are flying her grandson, Kyle, in from Nashville for the party. I spent part of Sunday texting him, researching, and finally booking his flight. There was a little confusion on the airline website; booking and paying for a passenger other than me was not as intuitive as it could have been. When it was all set, I texted his itinerary and confirmation number, and we exchanged our glee at the upcoming surprise. 

But when I woke up this morning, I had an email from the airline that I had canceled my flight, and when I logged on, the website confirmed that I had no upcoming trips. I checked my credit card and saw two holds on the airline charges, which was confusing, but I went ahead and rebooked the flight. Then I sent Kyle a message with the new confirmation number. 

This afternoon, I got an email from the airline asking whether I needed a hotel for my trip to Buffalo, but the confirmation number in the message was not the one I had sent this morning. This time, when I logged onto the website, I realized that, of course, I don't have any upcoming trips. Kyle does! And when I checked, I saw he had 2 identical trips: one booked this morning and the other on Sunday. 

Fortunately, the reservation I made earlier today was within the penalty-free cancellation window, so I canceled it. But then I sent Kyle a message that we were back to the old confirmation number. Except, we weren't. 

I think what happened was that when I was messing around with the passenger and payment info on Sunday, the website autofilled me as the passenger. When I changed it before finalizing the trip, it must have canceled my reservation and confirmation number and booked a new one with a new number. 

That's the notification I got today: my momentary reservation was canceled, but that's the number I originally sent to Kyle, so I had to send yet another text. 🙄

You Could Call it That

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" My dental hygienist removed the spray and suction from my mouth so I could answer.

I swallowed. "Well, after this, I'm going to P.T.," I replied, and gave a thumbnail of my plantar fasciitis saga.

"It's a day of self-care, then?" he said as he resumed hydrosonically scaling my teeth.

All I could do was shrug.

Two Dogs Passing in the Afternoon

The sidewalk was narrowly shoveled, and it would have been impossible for Lucy and me and the guy coming toward us with his golden retriever to pass comfortably. Likewise, the snow banks on either side were substantial and icy, so it was equally impossible to step aside. From his distance of 10 yards or so, the man nodded in acknowledgment, backed up, and stepped into the parking lot he had just passed. As we approached, a look of relief washed over his face, and he smiled and loosened his grip on the leash. "They know each other, I think," he said.

It was then that I took a closer look at the guy under the hat and behind the scarf and his frisky golden. "Oh!" I said to Lucy, "It's Leo!"

Of course, the dogs had known all along, which may have contributed to Leo's owner's caution. Leo's excitement may have been read as agitation; he does have a bit of an unfriendly reputation. And the truth is, Leo and Lucy usually walk together with Heidi and Adrian, Leo's other person. As it is, Andy and I barely know each other at all, although I did attend his wedding last June.

The dogs greeted each other, and then were ready to move on, as dogs so often are. "Nice to see you," Andy mumbled as we walked past.

"Take it easy, Andy," I answered.

A Prayer and a Wing

"Let's have wings for dinner!" Heidi uncharacteristically suggested, and when I raised an eyebrow, she added, "Please! It's the Super Bowl tomorrow!"

"You didn't even know that until I told you a little while ago," I laughed. "What kind of wings do you want?"

She named a nearby Korean-style wing place.

"You want to buy wings for dinner?" I asked. "That's so weird." And it is. We never do anything like that.

"Fine!" she huffed. "Forget it! Make something healthy instead." And off she headed upstairs. 

I looked at my watch. It was about 1:45, and after a late breakfast of waffles (homemade!), we hadn't eaten lunch yet. So I picked up my phone and ordered a half-dozen double-fried soy-garlic wings to be delivered ASAP. 

Thirty minutes later? Everyone was happy.

With a Y

Lucy can be very persnickety when it comes to treats. In fact, she has been known to spit out goodies she considers to be subpar. Heidi accepts responsibility for some of this pickiness; she is very discerning about what Lucy eats, too. 

Even so, novelty often wins out. For example, today on our walk, we passed by a group that regularly protests the current administration's policies by waving flags and hanging banners on an overpass so that drivers on the interstate can see them. "What a cute dog!" said one lady as we skirted the demonstrators. "Is she friendly?" She turned, waving her flag as she did.

At the word 'dog,' Lucy turned and wagged her tail.

"She's not afraid of the flag or anything!" marveled the lady. "What's her name?"

"Lucy," I answered.

"Lucy with an i or Lucy with a y?" she asked.

"Y," I replied.

"Can she have a treat?" She showed me some Charlie Bears.

"Sure," I shrugged, knowing that those are regularly spat out around the house.

"Sit!" she said.

Lucy sat.

"Good girl!" She held out her palm gleefully.

Lucy crunched up those Charlie Bears like she hadn't eaten in days.

"What a nice dog," the lady smiled.

"Thank you so much," I said, and continued on, just knowing that Lucy is going to be looking for the treat lady any time we ever cross that bridge again.

Awwwww

Overheard in a sixth-grade English class:

Student 1: "Will you be the main character in my story?"

Student 2: "Sure! You already are the main character in my story."

Back on the Streets

Temperatures in the 30s felt downright balmy this afternoon, and I quickly unzipped my vest and shucked my mittens as Lucy and I alternately strolled down sidewalks, tromped through snow, and gingerly picked our way over ice on our walk. Despite the obstacles, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, and it felt great to be out and about after more than a week of sticking close to home.

What's Done is Done

On her first day back to school after the 10-day winter weather break, Heidi made sure to give herself plenty of time. Even though there was a 2-hour delay, she left here a little after 8 am. Before she headed out, I warmed up the Jeep and checked the parking lot. There were still some piles of snow, but no ice, and I gave her the all-clear when I got back into the house.

As she was backing out, Heidi noticed a van pull into the spot across from hers, and at the same moment, a blue sedan came around the curve and stopped to let her continue. And that's where her exit went to pieces. Mindful of the van and not wanting to keep the car waiting too long, she rushed her three-point turn and ended up with one tire spinning in the snow. 

I looked out the kitchen window when I heard the honking and shouting, and threw on my boots and rushed outside to lend a hand. The lady in the sedan was yelling out her window that she was late for a chemo appointment. I nodded sympathetically, but the Jeep was stuck, and Heidi was trying to get out of the way as quickly as she could. Meanwhile, a line of cars was forming on the driveway, waiting in the single plowed lane.

"I'll grab some cardboard and sand," I told Heidi. "See what you can do with the gears."

"She had plenty of room to back out further, and she didn't!" complained the lady behind her. "She should have kept going!"

"Maybe," I acknowledged. "But she didn't, and now she can't." 

"I was waving at her!" the lady continued. "She should have listened to my hand!"

Thankfully, at that moment, before any further discussion about the present versus the past with a cancer patient grew even more heated, the rear tire found some traction, and Heidi drove over the snow and away. 

And so did our neighbor.

♀ Power

"I feel like we should have a group hug or something," one of our neighbors said as the evening painted the snow blue in our parking lot. "But maybe not with everything that's going around." Her eyes swept over the circle of women standing in a newly-cleared parking space. The five of us had just finished breaking up and moving over two tons of snow and ice by hand to clear another space in the lot.

"Maybe a group high-five?" someone else suggested, and five gloved hands were raised and joined in the twilight.

"Shouldn't there be lightning bolts or something shooting into the sky?" I laughed. "That was a lot of snow!"

Fold Over

There was a time in my life when my to-do list at work might easily have included three hundred or so phyllo triangles, but that was decades ago. Even so, I found out today that that's a skill I may never forget. 

A neighbor of ours, suffering from a bit of cabin fever after being iced in all week, invited several friends over for a happy hour this afternoon. She offered to provide the drinks if we brought snacks. I had an unopened package of phyllo dough in the fridge, left over from Christmas, along with feta cheese and some greens from our CSA share that I had blanched and chopped. 

It was not a stretch to mix together a little filling, melt some butter, and start folding away. Our kitchen has a few exterior walls, and it's been cold in there all week, but today I appreciated the pastry-pantry temperatures that kept the butter, filling, and dough in perfect condition, allowing me to knock out three dozen little triangles in under 15 minutes. I think the neighbors will be impressed, even though they needn't be.

But we'll let that be our secret.

Leaning Into Her Ninth Decade

Heidi's mom is turning 80 in March, and like with most things, she's got some thoughts about how she'd like to celebrate. In fairness, we did ask and offered to organize the party and treat her and her guests. Her birthday conveniently falls on the Friday that Heidi's spring break starts, and we've booked dinner for 18 the following evening at a longtime local favorite steakhouse.

I spent part of this afternoon making the invitation on the web-based design site I favor. I really like the way it turned out, considering I started from scratch: just a blank page, no template. We started gathering the items for the gag swag bags, too. Louise wants Bingo cards, reading glasses, pill organizers, and salt substitute for everyone. She also chose the earliest time available at the restaurant, so we can say we got the early bird special.

Is It Though?

One of my bowling friends gave me a spontaneous hug this morning. "I'm so glad you retired and decided to join us!" she said.

"Me too!" I answered. "It's the best thing about retirement so far!"

Another of our bowling buddies raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"I said, so far," I laughed. "Give me some time; it's only my second year!"

It's Still Bad Out There

We woke to a scrape, then the bleating of a backup alarm, followed by tires spinning on the ice. A moving van was stuck on the tight turn in the corner of the driveway outside our condo. The window on the landing gave us a front-row seat to the crew as they tried first to gun the engine, then to push on the truck's cab, neither to any avail. 

The side of the trailer was stuck on an enormous mound of ice and snow at the edge of the drive, where residents had piled it while shoveling out their parking spaces. We winced when one of the men slid under the back and poured salt melt beneath the tire. "That'll get you killed," Heidi said. But his risk was without results. The van was wedged high enough on the embankment that the wheel was off the ground. 

Next, they produced a crowbar and began chipping away at the pile. At last, one of the neighbors on that side of the complex came to the rescue with a snow shovel, and Heidi followed with our steel forged sidewalk scraper, the perfect tool to break through the ice.

The crew themselves produced some cardboard boxes to wedge beneath the tire, and a little while later, I saw the truck bump down once they had chiseled the ice from its purchase. With a little more shoveling, they were finally able to back the truck up, more than an hour after they had run aground. 

The turn proved to be impossibly tight, however, so they backed the van all the way around the loop road that rings our complex until they could finally pull forward and drive down the entrance hill, rescheduling their call for another day.

Prognostication

"If it snows like they say it will," I told Heidi last week, "you won't go to school at all. Especially with a work day Friday. I'm calling it now."

Nailed it!

Good Neighbors

It's not often around here that we get the kind of snow we had Sunday, and that's a good thing. While the community we live in pays for a plow to clear the circular road around the complex and shovelers to do the sidewalks, residents are responsible for digging out their own cars. With no assigned parking, things can get ugly quickly if someone leaves the space they spent time and energy clearing, only to return and find it taken.

Having lived here for decades, it seems like we've seen a lot of mini-dramas unfold over winter parking, but we've seen a lot of neighborly gestures, too. Naturally, in a community of 186 condos, there has been a lot of turnover in residents over that time, and I'm struck by the markedly different vibes from storm to storm. 

Some years have found everyone out together, shoveling out all the cars on our end. Other years we have witnessed people throwing their snow right in front of a car that hasn't been cleared off yet, doubling the work for that other resident. One recent change I've noticed is that at least two of the young men who live nearby have dug out their neighbors, for a price. These guys in their 20s, both of whom live with their moms, will only lend a hand if they are paid.

This year, too, I've noticed another trend. 🤨 Anecdotally, as I look out my window and see which neighbors are helping the community, it's all been middle-aged ladies, like us, carrying one small shovel of snow at a time to make room for others.

Active Reader

I spent part of my day yesterday resting up for snow removal and reading magazines online with my public library account, which turned out to be more than simply recreational. Aside from the interesting information I gained, my reading also spurred me to action. After enjoying a fascinating article about family Christmas celebrations in Montreal, I considered making plans to revisit that beautiful city. But then I remembered that Heidi's passport expired, and so I renewed it online before even turning the virtual page. It will be here in six weeks, and international travel plans will be back on the table.

Likewise, after reading a charming essay about another author's memories of making orange marmalade with his English granny, "The recipe is basically a ratio—2-to-3-to-6, fruit to sugar to water," he says, I was inspired to satisfy my hankering for a bit of the bitter spread by preserving the oranges I had and making a microbatch of Mrs. Barrenger's Marmalade. On homemade sourdough toast with a dollop of burrata, it was a delicious breakfast this morning, and fuel enough for all the shoveling we did today.

Mystery Storm

We weren't sure what to expect from the much-hyped impending snowstorm. Unlike many winter events around here, this time temperatures were predicted to stay well below freezing throughout the storm and into the next week. And yet, because of warmer air aloft, the snow was also forecast to turn to a wintry mix before ending, which would refreeze on the ground. 

The result was a shower of tiny ice pellets that lasted throughout the day, leaving several inches of granular, almost sand-like snow that partially filled in footsteps as they were left. This unusual precipitation was pretty, but too cold to pack, hard to walk in, and heavy in the shovel. It was fun to slide down the hill on, though. 

Whatever it is? Is still coming down out there, a little wetter now, with temps in the high 20s slated to fall to the teens after midnight. So who even knows what twe'll see in the morning?

You Dropped Something

I laughed when our cat Tibby bolted past me this morning into the bathroom as I came out. She dashed over to the water bowl we keep in the corner for the pets and nosed something indignantly. It seems I inadvertently swept a small bottle of ibuprofen off the counter while performing my morning ablutions, and Tibby wanted me to get it out of there. 

Message received!

No Need to Panic

My plan was to swing by Trader Joe's early and pick up some fresh produce to get us through the coming storm. I had plenty of pantry staples and protein options in the freezer, so some fruit and veggies were all I really needed. Well, those and a gift card for a friend's birthday today, but I figured I'd be in and out in a few minutes, even if the lines were long with other shoppers. 

I did not expect to see a line of twenty people or more waiting outside the store to be let in, though, and neither was I willing to wait in it! A friend had texted me last night, joking about emergency shopping and sending a picture of the huge parking lot at Wegman's, completely full of cars. "Amazon Fresh is fully stocked," he added. 

That's where I headed, too, driving right across the street from the shopping center with TJs. I grabbed myself a smart cart, scanned the in-store QR code, and added everything I needed directly into my reusable bags. Then I skipped the checkout line and rolled out of the store. Meanwhile, across the street, that line was getting longer.

I'm sure our friend will understand the IOU in her birthday card!

I Guess He'll Find Out

 "It has to be lunch time!" the little boy in front of me whispered to the kid next to him. "I'm starving!"

"You can't die from hunger," the other student answered dismissively.

"Yes, you can!" he insisted.

"Not in school," she shrugged.

I looked at the clock. It was only 9 am, and lunch wasn't until 10:45. 

That Worked Out

"Do one small thing that will set you up to accomplish what you want in the next six months," my meditation guru advised yesterday morning. As I considered her words, I thought of all the trouble I have been having with my right foot since I turned my ankle in Maine last summer. 

Despite custom orthotics, exercises, NSAIDs, and a variety of splints and braces, my heel screams every time I walk farther than a few yards. I've been toughing it out, but if I want to get in shape to take advantage of that reservation I finally scored in theGrand Canyon Phantom Ranch lottery, I need to be 100 percent. 

With that in mind, I opened the portal to schedule an appointment with my podiatrist and was pleasantly surprised to find availability this morning at 9:45. He saw me right away and offered several treatment options. One was PT, which happened to be right across the hall.  

Another was an X-ray. "Do I have to call to schedule?" I asked. "You can go there right now," he said. "They'll take you today." The third was a prescription-strength anti-inflammatory, which he sent to my pharmacy. 

After scheduling my follow-up appointment in four weeks, I walked over to PT and booked three sessions. Then I drove up to the hospital and had barely sat down after checking-in when they took me back for my X-ray. I was out of there so fast, I didn't even have to pay for parking. As I headed out of the garage, my phone buzzed; it was the pharmacy: my prescription was ready, so I stopped on the way home to pick it up. 

I walked in the front door less than two hours after leaving home, with a sense of accomplishment and optimism that my foot will soon be better.