Hello Haiku

We started our annual poetry segment of the 100 Day Writing Challenge today, and as always, I have been totally charmed by my students' writing. So far it's just been haiku, but there is something very fresh and honest in so many of these simple little poems that I am exceedingly optimistic about the rest of the month.

Let me give you a couple examples:


The wind blows all day
The clouds are so dark and gray
and then comes the rain.
                          ~Ryan

Today is awesome,
tomorrow may be better,
yesterday is gone.
                          ~Talha

I wake up sleepy
Too cold to get out of bed
But I have to pee.
                          ~Mina

Early Spring Evening

73 degrees and the screen door is wide open this evening. The warm breeze and gentle twilight is harshly punctuated by the insistent squawking of a squirrel in the crabapple tree just outside. She has our attention, the dog, the cat, and I, so much so that we go out on the tiny deck for a better understanding of her distress. There below? A stripe-ed beauty of a tabby cat, sleek and brown and gray; patiently waiting at the foot of the tree, she looks up at we three with eyes as green as the new grass growing just off to her left. Neither shrieking squirrel nor silent cat seem inclined to end their stand-off, and after a moment, we grow bored of it and drift back inside.

To-ma-ta-da!

In addition to relaxing this spring break week, we also accomplished quite a bit: phone calls, car repairs, paperwork, and so forth, were all check-check-checked off the list, but to me the most exciting chore was potting my little pepper plants and starting the tomatoes. Forty-nine cells with eight varieties are all hopefully germinating as I type, so that in 90 days or so, July 4 or perhaps a little later, the harvest will begin and it will be BLTs all around!

Here's what I planted:

Rutgers
Abraham Lincoln
Cherokee Purple
German Johnson
Box Car Willie
Red Rose
Purple Bumblebee
Bull's Heart

It's hard to say if I picked them for their names or for their descriptions, which were equally appealing, but I'll post an update this summer.

A Hipster Philosopher

I borrowed my nephew's ukulele this week. After ten lessons, I was feeling ready for an upgrade, and it was just sitting in his room while he was away at college. And indeed, it was a little better for me– as much as I love love love my pint-sized pineapple soprano, I found the larger frets on his a tich more forgiving to my still-clumsy fingers.

The strings were a teeny bit buzzy, though, and I knew from my own that they probably needed replacing. The easiest thing to do? Order a set from Amazon and wait to restring it when they arrive Monday. I did that, but since we were out and about today I decided to stop into the Guitar Center and pick some up.

The teenager who helped me was super-nice and then super-apologetic when we found they were out of stock on the strings we needed. "I can call another store for you," he offered.

"No thanks," I told him. "I have some coming Monday, but I kind of wanted them right away," I shrugged.

"Right away?" he repeated. "Good for you! That's like the American dream!"

"Yeah, but I didn't get them," I sighed. "I have to wait."

"Well, that's more like the American reality!" he replied.

Thanks, kid.

Official Portrait

I recognized him the minute we walked in the door of the UPS Store: it was the same guy who helped us with our big shipment in December. This time we were simply there to acquire passport photos for Heidi; the store was empty of other customers, and there were three employees on duty, so I had high hopes of an expedient experience.

As it turned out, although there were three  folks in uniform, it was actually just Dave and the two women he was training. So even something so simple as having a photo taken and printed became an elaborate ordeal, narrated in minute detail by Mr. Neurotic-attention-to-detail, so it was kind of a lengthy process involving finding the digital camera, moving a large rack of mailing tubes, asking Heidi to step forward, backward, forward, not smile, smile a little, look at the shot, reframe and retake and repeat, locate the cable, plug into the printer, choose the proper setting (no not that one) trim the prints and place them in an official blue cardboard cover, then ring the sale, no not that code, no the other one, swipe again, sign, wait for the receipt and...

We had parked in a 15 minutes or less spot in the lot, and by the end of the transaction I was standing by the door scanning for tow trucks or meter maids, but after a comprehensive discussion of just how blue Heidi's eyes are, they finally closed the little folder and handed it to her, and our business was finally complete.

On the upside, I do feel fully qualified to take and print and ring up a passport photo down there.

The Joy in Enjoy

Ah... another day filled with donuts and lavender lattes and cat sitting, sleeping in, running errands in the middle of the day, watching The Sopranos, sitting in the sun, and practicing the ukulele.

Could vacation be any better than this?

Spring Breakers

There was a little more traffic than I expected at 11 AM on a Wednesday, but that couldn't bother me... it was spring break, dammit, and we were on a road trip to the beach. Once we crossed the Bay Bridge, the sky was blue and the sun cast a warm, truly golden hue on bare trees and brown fields as we rolled east across the narrow peninsula separating the Chesapeake and the Atlantic. Chicken barns, random traffic circles, and brand new sub-divisions springing from former farm fields showed the way like so many bread crumbs until at last we arrived in Rehoboth Beach.

Parking spot number 7 was vacant, and I appreciated how impossible it would be to ever get that space in even just a month's time. A stiff, cold wind blew off the water from the north, but we bowed our heads and walked straight into it, knowing it would be worse to have to do so on the way back from our walk.

Isabel? She loves the beach, and she merrily trotted from breakers to dunes, sniffing and exploring. She found herself a nice, twelve inch Blueback herring lying in the sand just above the tide line. "No!" we cried and ran over to the floundering fish. A silvery rainbow of a specimen, its gills still waved weakly so I picked it up and tossed it back into the sea. I swear I saw its tail flip as it disappeared in the surf, but I stood watching, the afternoon sun at my back, the wide beach cast out to either side, and the blue, blue, ocean before me, in case the tide might maroon it again.