Most Popular

In the bottom right hand corner of my blog is a list of Popular Posts. With the minute readership I enjoy, I'm not sure if the algorithm that determines the entries on the list has to work more or less than usual, but I generally recognize why one post or another is mentioned. To be honest, I rarely even look at that feature, but yesterday I glanced over and saw a title I didn't remember: Fair to Middlin'

Intrigued, I clicked the link and was taken to the post I had written exactly 10 years ago to the day, April 22, 2011. It was the end of a week at the beach with family, one that had started with renting a van and road tripping south with Heidi, Bill, my mom, and our dogs Sonic and Isabel to meet my sister and her family. Treat and Emily flew in, too.

I got a lump in my throat reading about our last night at the beach and the dinner conversation we had, and the whole story brought back a flood of sweet memories. Coincidently, just a few hours later I was scheduled to pick up a minivan to drive south with Heidi and Bill and Emily and our dogs to join my sister's family for our niece's Bat Mitzvah.

But the strangest thing about the whole thing was that there was absolutely no reason why that particular post should be on that list. When I checked my stat gadget, no one had accessed it but me, and only because I followed the link right then. By all rights? Fair to Middlin' should have been languishing right along side the other 4,000+ posts that no one has looked at for years.

And yet... there it was.

Get on your Feet

I woke up this morning dreaming that I was dancing. In the morning meditation that my sister turned me on to, we have had three minutes of dancing most of the week, and there's really nothing like it for a positive start to the day. Three minutes goes by in a wink, and there is a smile on my face when I sit down to practice being present. 

Our yogi reminded us of that great Mark Twain quote:

“Dance like no one is watching. Sing like no one is listening. Love like you’ve never been hurt. And live like it’s heaven on Earth.”

It's been so great, I just might add three minutes of dancing to my daily to-do list. 

Join me!

Playlist ideas, anyone?

Middle School Math

"My parents are young! They were really young when they had me!" I heard one student tell another this morning. "My dad was born in 1983 and my mom was born in 1985."

I did a little calculating: 26 and 24 is a bit young by today's customs.

"How do you even know that?" the other student responded incredulously. "I have no idea when my parents were born."

He raised his eyebrows and frowned. "Do you know how old they are?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course," the other kid shrugged.

"Then do the math!" he told her. "Just do the math."

Her eyes widened, mind clearly blown.

He just shook his head in disbelief.

The Wall

When you ask your students to come up with a two word alliterative phrase with their name, 

and

they

just

can't

think

of

anything.

Strange Ways

In the count-your-blessings department, all of my niece's aunts and uncles, as well as her grandmother are vaccinated and willing to travel to Atlanta to celebrate her Bat Mitzvah with her this coming weekend. On the flip side of the coin, planning to entertain out of town guests in COVID times has been challenging for my sister. Just today, she received a call from the restaurant with whom she had reserved a coveted covered patio space to let her know they were switching to a 4-or-6 course prix fixe menu that was really not a fit for our group. 

"You should call the manager," I suggested, but she told me it was the owner, a well-known chef, who had made the decision.

"We picked the place because of all the good work he has done in the food community during the pandemic," she told me, "and now we're stuck. It's disappointing."

"Maybe you could Tweet him," I said.

We brainstormed a few ideas, and eventually she crafted a <280 character message that she was pleased with. After we hung up, I tapped my Twitter icon for the first time in ages, eager to see her handiwork. Scanning my account before navigating over, I checked out my own mentions tab. There I found a Tweet from last May, from the parent of a student.

Above her daughters smiling face, she had posted: Blessings to the wonderful teachers @[ourschool] Thanks for your kindness! You made [my daughter] very happy! #teacherappreciation #QuarantineLife

Her daughter was holding an envelope with a note I had written and the small piece of candy I'd sent in recognition of the writing she had done after our school buildings had closed.

Exactly 11 months later, to the day? I feel the appreciation. And it makes a difference.

Pattern Recognition

"I hate the Oscar movies," Heidi said last night. "They are always, always depressing."

"Maybe this one won't be!" I answered.

It was.

Splash Down

It's been a chilly last few days here, more like March than April. Blustery winds blowing puffy white clouds across a bright blue sky have subsided to a cool gray evening, and the last fire of the season may even be crackling on our hearth this evening. 

But not to worry!

Our pool pass application came in the mail today.

Six weeks and counting.