After Word

Since Heidi's friend and mentor passed away unexpectedly in early August, we have had two babies born to close friends and family. New life is always something to celebrate, but these two little ones also brought bittersweet reminders to appreciate the present, even as we joyfully consider their limitless futures. 

Coincidentally, the first was born on French's birthday, and the second? Shares his first name.

Itsy Bitsy and Me

I admit I was a little alarmed when what I thought was a bit of hair on the shower wall started crawling my way, but I was already turning on the water, and within seconds the stall was in a downpour. And while I didn't mean the spider any harm, I doubted its survival skills in the face of such a deluge. 

But I was wrong. That arachnid found the tiniest overhang between two subway tiles and contracted its tiny body into an even tinier speck. Oh, I could have washed the spider out, but frankly I was impressed by its staying power, and we shared the space without incident as I conducted my shower routine. 

Once the water was turned off, the plucky little attercop popped out and resumed its full size. I used a paper cup and an index card to capture it before it climbed back up the water spout and disappeared into the bathroom, and it stayed there while I toweled off, moisturized, dried my hair, and got dressed. 

Soon enough, though, I released it on the upstairs deck railing, where it immediately spun a drop line and skittered off into the October morning. 

Power of Yet

I was disappointed to read that the team I wrote about the other day didn't find conclusive evidence to finally solve the mystery of Amelia Earhart's final days, but I appreciated the growth mindset in the subject line of the email update. "The search for Amelia continues," it read, and the message ended with an upbeat summary, capped by a quote from Earhart: "Adventure is worthwhile in itself."

The Pear Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

Lately, Heidi has been crazy about pears. After I bought a bag with a half dozen pretty pears, she's been enjoying one every night after dinner, and we're on our 4th bag. Coincidentally, she received what seemed like a spam email message from her late dad, with the subject line "Pear Season." 

It turned out to be an annual reminder that Gary set for himself to start eating pears in September. Her brother still manages their dad's email account, and he forwarded the message with affection. 

"Pears are definitely like that," Heidi laughed. "You never think you want them until you have a good one. I guess my dad didn't want to forget that!"

Local Color

We wanted to walk somewhere new, but we didn't want to drive too far, which is a pretty big challenge when you've lived in the same area since 1989. 

I hemmed and hawed about it all day, until finally, around 4:30, it occurred to me that despite seeing them scores of times while whizzing by in cars, I'd never actually walked around the Marine Corps Monument and the Netherlands Carillon, so off we went. 

I didn't think parking would be a challenge at that time of day, and I was right, but our plan to add a loop through Arlington Cemetery was a no-go since they closed at 5. Even so, we put together a couple of miles, spent some time admiring both landmarks and the view, and enjoying the crisp fall weather. 

And we even got a carillon concert!

The Scoop

I assumed it was clickbait when I saw the social media caption this morning: "Is the Mystery of Amelia Earhart Solved?" Rather than feed that wolf, I opened my browser and searched for myself to see if there was any recent news about the pilot who disappeared nearly 90 years ago. 

To my surprise? There was! 

A joint expedition from Purdue University, Purdue Research Foundation, and the Archaeological Legacy Institute was, at that very moment, aboard a ship anchored off Nikumaroro Atoll in Kiribati to investigate the "Taraia Object." Someone spotted the object in Apple Maps in 2020, and subsequent research has shown images of it in the lagoon of this uninhabited island, on and off, since 1938. According to Purdue News, the team will be ready to announce tomorrow whether it is an airplane. 

My interest was piqued, and further investigation revealed that this atoll has long been considered a likely place where Earhart's round-the-world attempt ended. Over the last nine decades, people have found many artifacts there that can be circumstantially linked to Amelia and her navigator, Fred Noonan, including freckle cream, shoes, a U.S. medicine vial, a 1930s jackknife, glassware, aviation parts, and human bones, but nothing conclusive. 

So, heads up, reader! Tomorrow could be a day like September 1, 1985, when Robert Ballard found the Titanic, and one of the most enduring mysteries of our lifetimes could be solved.

Whatever it Takes

Heidi was home a little early today so that we could take Lucy to the vet. Once our dog got a [relatively] clean bill of health, I suggested going to the gym.

"But what about my baby?" Heidi asked in alarm.

"Lucy will be fine," I shrugged. "We won't be gone that long."

"No!" Heidi said. "What about my other baby?"

I thought for a minute. "Pebbles?" I asked, and she nodded. "I guess we can stop to see her on our way home."

"Fine!" Heidi replied. "But I'm only going because I get to hold the baby after."

A Hot Day in October

90 degrees on October 14 is a record-breaking phenomenon, surpassing the 1919 record of 86 degrees for the hottest day this late in the year. And yet, 90 degrees in October is nothing like 90 degrees in summer: the air was warm, but the sun was much weaker. The punishing rays of the blinding white summer sun gave way to a gentler, golden light, and even at high noon, there was plenty of shade. This 90 degrees was, dare I say? Almost as pleasant as it was unexpected.

Friendly Adversaries

It's never fun to win at bowling when someone else is having a bad day, but that's what happened today. We were competing against one of the teams tied for first place, and their first bit of bad luck came when their best bowler called to say she couldn't make it. That means her score was "blind" or preset at her average minus 10 percent.

The team member with the second-highest average bowled 30 pins below her average in the first game and was very upset when she didn't even break 100. She felt terrible, but her teammate consoled her. "We're just here for the fellowship!" 

Even so, when we got to the tenth frame in the next game, that player had a tough but not impossible split. "You can do it!" I cheered, and then, looking at the scoreboard, added, "If you do, you can break 100!"

She smiled ruefully, then took a deep breath and knocked those pins to Murgatroyd. "Thank you!" she said.

"You have to get at least 6 on your extra ball, though," I informed her.

She threw her ball down the lane and took out exactly 6, and the rest of us celebrated like it was a turkey.

"You knew just what I needed to hear!" she told me.

I winked. "Next game you'll probably bowl average. You're just building up to it."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" she sighed.

Our team ended up winning 3 of the 4 points and knocking them out of first place. She did bowl her best game in the third, though, and saved them from a sweep.

No Remorse

Occasionally, when I read about this or that local crime, my snoopy curiosity gets the best of me, and I look up the mugshots of those involved. More than a few times, I've recognized the people involved, usually former students, and that's always sad, if not entirely surprising. Sometimes, I just want to lay eyes on the people who refused to leave the restaurant, resisted arrest, spit on the police, or behaved in some other way that seems outrageous to me. 

That's what I was doing this afternoon when I came across this booking photo:

"She doesn't look upset at all!" I said to Heidi as I turned the computer around so she could see it. 

"She does look pretty pleased with herself," Heidi agreed. "It must have seemed like a very good idea at the time."

Sunday Bowlers

There was a congenial vibe when we arrived at the bowling center at 11 AM this morning. The place runs an 11-3 all-you-can-bowl special for $ 15.99, including shoes, so we arranged to meet our friend Ellen there right as they opened to make sure we got a lane. 

Even though it was bucketing rain, our timing worked, and they set us up on the league side for our free practice games. We found ourselves between two older gentlemen I recognized from the Owls, the senior league that bowls at the same time as our ladies' league. One was practicing like us, and the other was pre-bowling for his Tuesday games. They were both very friendly, too, and we all cheered each other on.

Down the way, Penny, one of the center's managers, was bowling, and she was good! Which was funny to see since she's usually behind the desk when we're there, calling out the games over 200. At one point, Chuck, the bowler on our right, was four frames into a perfect game. "Oh no!" I said, pointing to Penny. "Who's going to say, Over there on lane 27, we have Chuck with a nice 300! That's good bowling! ?"

"Don't worry," he assured me. "It won't last."

He was right. But he did bowl an enviable 191.

Not a Trick Question

Guess what Pebbles is going as for Halloween?

Pebbles Flintstone!

Guess what I replied when I saw the text with her costume?

Yabba dabba doo!

As Babysitters Do

Always on the lookout for good TV shows to stream in their entirety, I appreciated the interactive "Want to Watch" button on the NY Times list of the 100 Best TV Shows of the 21st Century. Of course, I also enjoyed the "Have Seen" button and the resulting list of 25 shows I already watched; although it's not a very braggable percentage, I love a tally sheet. Even more granular? Once I marked a show as "seen," I could also record whether I liked it. Call me easy; I only disliked two.

Even though I followed the list when it was released, 20 at a time, read it again a few times, and discussed it show by show with Treat, Riley, and Julie, it was not at all on my mind when I went to babysit yesterday. "Here's the TV remote," my friend said before she left, "watch whatever you want."

I laughed because I rarely watch television in the middle of the day, but I thanked her anyway. After she left, the baby was asleep, and her husband was working remotely in the study, and after a few minutes on my phone, I looked at the big screen above the fireplace. For some reason, Friday Night Lights, number 14 on the list, and a show I had heard a lot about but had never even seen an episode of, popped into my head. 

"Have you ever seen this?" I asked her husband when he came in to check on the still-sleeping baby and me. He shook his head no. I was about halfway into episode one, and it didn't take long to bring him up to speed. From then on, he joined me and the baby, who woke up, ate, burped, and went back to sleep, whenever there was a break in his work. We became absorbed in the drama of the small-town Texas high school football team. Somehow it seemed a good fit for the vibe of the job.

"Wow!" he said to me at the end of episode three, "you are really putting a dent in this show!"

"Without commercials?" I shrugged. "They're only about 40 minutes. Plus, isn't that what babysitters do? Watch the kids, then watch TV? It's definitely how we did it in high school!"

"That seems appropriate," he agreed, nodding at the kids on the TV .

If the Diaper Fits

"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!"

Oxon Hill Farm

"Rhode Island Red," I pointed at the chicken and turned to my friend Mary. "Exceptional breed of chicken!"

"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 Days Are Just Packed

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!

Thank you, Gemini!

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).

The blog is run by an educator and writer named Tracey. On her blog, Tracey shares that she is a dedicated literacy coach, educator, and writer who uses her platform to document the quiet, meaningful moments of everyday life.

• 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.

A quintessential post from Tracey’s blog, "Walking the Dog", perfectly illustrates her signature style: finding deep meaning, humor, or quiet beauty in everyday routine. Her most defining posts focus on mundane moments transformed by an educator's eye. A few excellent examples of her typical writing themes include:

• "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.

The Core Formula of Her Posts: If you look at the architecture of any classic post on Walking the Dog, it usually follows a specific pattern:

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!

A New Record

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.

Another Dimension

"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.

Don't Lose Any Sleep Over It

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."

Oof Oof Oof All the Way Home

This little one has hairballs.
This little one has diarrhea.
This little one has poop stuck in her fur.
This little one has a cough.

And this one cleaned and saged the house today.

Hopefully? They will all be on the mend soon.