Eyes on the Prize

News today that for her next album Dolly Parton covers "Let it Be" with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. "Leave it to Dolly to reunite the Beatles," wrote The New York Times.

I laughed and remembered how a few weeks ago when we were down in Atlanta, I was talking with my sister about my upcoming trip to Asheville and the fact that Pigeon Forge, TN really wasn't that much further. "It would be fun to go there," I said. "I love Dolly Parton!"

My sister nodded. "If you ask me," she replied, only half joking, "Dolly Parton should get the Nobel Peace Prize!" 

I wouldn't disagree, but her husband did. "Dolly Parton?" he rolled his eyes. "No way!"

My sister wouldn't back down, though. Instead, she ticked through a list of Dolly's accomplishments.  "She has funded literacy and music programs at needy schools for years," she started. 

Her husband shrugged.

"She helped fund the COVID vaccine," my sister continued, and by the time she finished, her husband had come around.

"That is pretty impressive," he agreed, and we didn't even know about the Beatles, then!

Proper Mindset

We ran a few end-of-the-summer errands yesterday, ending up at one of those off-price department stores. Technically? We were there for fun and colorful poop bags, one of the items on Heidi's list, and since she picks up most of the poop, I am not going to question that. 

But of course, we sped-browsed through the other departments, too, Heidi looking at dresses and blouses, and I at kitchenwares and active clothing. It was on the rack in this second section that I found a lovely seafoam-colored crewneck sweatshirt from one of our favorite clothing companies. It had a little dragonfly in the center and the caption, "Change is Good".

Embracing change is not really how I roll, but I bought the sweatshirt anyhow in a conscious effort to be mindful of the concept. And I wore my new pullover today, on the first day of school for teachers. Perhaps it served me well, because there was talk of some big changes coming along, but I wasn't bothered at all.

At the risk of being over-confident-- Year 31? I got you.

Look Forward, Teacher!

Despite the desire to cling to that summer vacation vibe, something told me to check my school accounts on Monday. 

First I saw a message sent just a few hours earlier from a former student inquiring whether she could bring a friend, who was new to the school, to the open house next week. "Or is it only for sixth graders?" she inquired.

I was glad to be able to respond promptly to such a generous and welcoming spirit, and doing so reminded me not of all the work and time my job demands, but of how much I loved working with the kids. Next, I checked to see if my new students were loaded into the learning management system and grade book. A couple of clicks later there they were-- the class of 2030 and my next year's sixth-grade students. 

My first impression? Adorable! And the sting of going back to the grind was lifted entirely. 

For the moment.

A Little Progress

I went for a dreaded annual screening this morning. I don't know any woman who does not find her mammogram to be extremely uncomfortable, if not downright painful. So often I've heard comments that if men had to have any of their sensitive parts compressed every year, the technology would be completely different. Maybe, but here we are. 

This morning, though, my appointment was in the brand-new, state-of-the-art Outpatient Pavillion on the hospital campus, a building that only opened three weeks ago. Parking was a breeze; electronic signs and signals indicated how many spaces were free and where they were. There was a passage from the garage right into the building, and the Women's Imaging Center was located right inside. I checked in on an electronic kiosk that asked if I'd like to set up biometric verification to speed my future appointments. They even validated my parking before showing me right into the new changing rooms. 

The technicians there have always been professional, kind, and friendly, and this morning was no exception. My mammographer showed me into the screening room and explained that they were using a new machine. One improvement was that instead of making me move and get squished 8 times, the machine itself moved, so that I only needed to be adjusted twice on each side. The other big change? An automatic release! As soon as the image was complete, the plates opened and freed my aching boob. The entire procedure took about 5 minutes.

It was still uncomfortable, to be sure, but it didn't hurt a bit.

More Dramatic Weather

We looked at each other as the earsplitting alarm sounded first on my phone, and then before I could silence the blare, on Heidi's, too. It was a tornado warning, not even a watch, and it directed us to find shelter in a low, interior room immediately. 

Unbelievably, in the nearly 25 years we have lived in our house, a tornado? Has never been a threat. "Where would that even be?" Heidi asked, reading the all-caps alert. 

"Uhh," I thought about it. "I guess the bathroom?" I rose from my seat and opened the door to the powder room. Although it did have an exterior wall, it was windowless, and maybe on ground level? It was hard to know how far the unit below us extended. It would be a tight squeeze for us, two cats, and the dog, though. 

Outside, the sky was dark as dusk, and a heavy rain began to fall. "Let me check a few things," I said to Heidi and found a real-time tornado tracker. There I saw that the rotation had not touched down and also we were not in its direct line, but rather on the outside corner of the possible range. "I think we can stay out of the bathroom for now," I reported, but chanted a quick protection mantra and kept my eyes on the screen.

A little while later, the alert expired. And a little while after that?

A Little Decorum

We were out for a midday walk when Lucy started doing her hysterical whining thing when she spotted a neighbor headed for the pool. 

"I'll come say hello so you don't pull anyone's arm off," the neighbor offered, and after a brief sit, I allowed Lucy over to see her. She didn't jump, but she did lean in and wag her tail very enthusiastically.

"I know!" said the neighbor. "I'm excited to see you, too! Isn't that funny? We feel the same way!"

"Yes," I agreed, drily. "You two are equally excited to see each other. Fortunately, you are able to control yourself a bit better than Lucy can."

W the Absolute F

Years ago I subscribed to news and traffic alerts issued by the county where I live, so a few times a day my watch or phone will ping to let me know that this or that local road is closed or reopened or that there is a severe weather warning or watch. 

Despite how small our county is geographically (the smallest in the country, thank you very much), I can honestly say that these notifications are almost never relevant to me; I am either already aware of the news they are reporting or unlikely to go by the impacted location. And when I'm on vacation the alerts can really be a nuisance: I've been awakened at 6 am in Key West because of a car fire 1,200 miles away and charged international messaging rates in Canada because of a fender bender back at home. 

Maybe it's like those people we knew when we were kids that had a police scanner squawking in their kitchens, because it has never occurred to me to unsubscribe; knowing (and ignoring) what is happening out on the streets has become part of the fabric of my daily life. 

And then, there is the story that unfolded today, when the driver of a tractor-trailer lost control and rammed several vehicles on the highway approaching one of the bridges to DC. Once his truck came to rest, he made a run for it, hopping the guard rail and bolting into the commercial district at the bottom of the embankment. Then he carjacked another vehicle before abandoning it to steal an ambulance and lead the police on a classic car chase full of crashes and collisions before finally being taken into custody and then transported to the hospital, along with several others injured in his wake.

Clearly, somebody's seen too many movies-- because? 

That is not how the Arlington Alerts roll.