Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge! I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by
Hey everyone –
My daughter can drive now. Like all by herself. On the roads YOU drive on
I think you know where this is going.
She was a baby who stretched her arms with her elbows bent She wore sleepers and sleep sacks and slept in my arms for most of her babyhood She was a toddler who called grapes “erdeps” and loved mud puddles She watched Elmo over and over and changed her clothes 5 times a day in preschool – always with a turn in the snow white dress
This was just yesterday, friends And tomorrow she will be off to college
Metaphorically tomorrow – Geez – I have more time than that.
So I have a request For every other driver
That. Means. YOU.
It’s simple really.
Get off the road if you can I mean do you really need to drive? And if you must drive, do it safely Obviously don’t drink or text or try to put your mascara on Be safe and kind or stay home.
Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge! I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by!
I totally know better, but I still ordered mobile app Starbucks for drive-thru. It was just E and me in the van, but we wanted others to enjoy the coffee treat too. I texted to see if they wanted some, but didn’t hear back. . .
L and I have wanted to try some of their new oat milk iced lattes, and she had her driver’s test today. I thought I could bring her home a latte that would either be a “Congratulations!” or an”It’s okay! Better luck next time!” latte. I ordered hers without ice in case she wasn’t home yet. I’m considerate like that.
Then Mr. Thought texted to say they had gotten Dunkin.
There was nothing to do about it though, so E and I waited in the drive-thru line for over a half an hour. It’s just funny when you know better but you don’t do better, you know?
“Let’s just remember,” I said –
“Never to go to Starbucks on a Saturday?” E finished.
The thing about being in a line for so long is that you have a lot of time to chat, and to think.
I thought about how I should try to grab a spot and just walk in. But grabbing a spot with the traffic in that parking lot seemed worse than waiting in the line that curved around the building. So instead, we waited.
I wanted to know if L had passed her test. But I knew she’d want to tell me in person. So I just waited.
Finally we were just a few cars away from the window. At the speaker the barista informed me I couldn’t have it without ice because “for that drink, the ice makes the drink.” I maybe should have canceled her drink, since she got her Dunkin, but it was too complicated.
At last we were at the window and our drinks were on the way!
And then I knew why I had to go through the drive-thru today. It was because of the sign that makes me laugh. When I look at it, I think it is saying “Can drive! Can drive! Can drive!” Like a motivational cheer for those in the drive-thru. Last time I was at that window I tried, unsuccessfully to tell the barista why I was laughing.
It’s A CAN DRIVE. Like to collect cans.
This time I was able to tell E why I was laughing. I was also able to hope that it was a sign that L did indeed pass her driving test.
Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge! I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by.
I was stopped at a light on a hill on the way to my parents house. The sky is blue today, the sun is bright, the wind is cold and noisey.
I watched as a one of those extra large playground balls rolled down the street toward me. It was weathered and pink and bumpy. I wondered if had been a bright red last spring. I wondered if it would roll into my car, and what the plan was if that happened. Would I need to get out of my car to move it? Would it pop? Could I just push it the mile to my folks’ house? It was too big to fit under the car . . .
I watched it as it skimmed my front bumper, and rolled down past the car behind me. Cars started turning down the road, blocking my view.
“I’ll never know what happens to that ball, or where it came from.” I thought as I continued to my parents’ house with my laundry.
Our washer is broken and the repair place says they can come next week. So until we get it fixed, we bring baskets and bags of laundry to my parents’ house. I don’t care how old you are, if you carry a basket or bag of laundry from your car to your parents basement, you’re basically 19. Even if one of those baskets is your 11 year old’s laundry.
An afternoon of laundry at my parents’ house felt like quiet respite. Maybe I shouldn’t get my washer fixed . . .
My dad made sure I got the settings on the washer correct, since last time I accidentally put the detergent in the spot for bleach.
My mom darned my torn sock. It’s a special sock, Mardi’s sock. I gave her donut socks last year, and after she died, I was given a pair back. These socks are holy to me, but I really don’t want them holey. (You can’t blame me for writing that. Seriously. It had to be said.)
Yea. My mom darned my sock, my dad made me tea, my laundry churned around in the basement. It was quiet. Maybe I shouldn’t get my washer fixed.
I packed up and drove home.
When I stopped at the light on the hill, I started looking out for that weathered playground ball. There is a creek and a park at the bottom of the hill, and I really hoped I’d see it there.
I mean, doesn’t a weathered playground ball deserve to retire on the water? I can imagine it floating around in the sun, playing with the ducks and enjoying the sounds of children at the playground.
But, I didn’t see it anywhere. Not in the street, not in the park, not in a lucky child’s hand.
“I’ll never know what happened to that ball, or where it came from.” I thought as I drove home, wondering about the metaphor of laundry, darning, quiet tea and a lonely lost weathered toy on a windy day.
Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge! I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by.
Am I the kind of person who thinks it’s okay to keep a ziplock bag of chocolate chips on the counter in an unused pot? No. No. No. I assure you, I am not.
I think it started with a bag of mini chocolate chips my daughter liked to add to her yogurt with granola and fruit Then the kids started throwing chocolate chips in their hot chocolate this winter, which was cute. I noticed the chips started staying out on the counter only recently, and the ziplock bag in a pot thing? That started just last week.
Am I the kind of person who had some of those chocolate chips, with a dollop of peanut butter on a spoon? Yes. Yes… I did that just this afternoon.
Am I the kind of person who thinks those chocolate chips would look prettier in a big mason jar? I mean, if they are going to be on the counter . . .
Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge! I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by.
March 8th
March 8th.
sunny,
spring is in the air
for now.
Kids are out on wheeled things
"spring break" is two days off later this week
Kids and I really wish we were going somewhere.
Anywhere
really.
Any. Where.
Before that,
March 8th - 2020
we drove to Georgia
mountains and hikes and family time and laughter and fireplaces and wine.
Our last pre-pandemic normalcy.
We knew something was happening -
but not really.
We clorox-wiped the vacation house, we didn't go to crowded places…
but it felt normal.
happy.
We even brought the dog!
Our Georgia trip felt like family in a cabin,
but not a cabin-fevered family.
Before that,
March 8th was Finnegan Foxy Feinberg's birthday.
Always during spring break,
He’s always at the "Pet Resort" for his birthday.
Our spring breaks were never fancy,
but they were breaks.
Before that,
March 8th marked the anniversary of my father-in-law's death.
A day to remember him,
gone now for over 20 years.
A character
we wish he had seen our wedding,
We wish he had met his grandchildren.
Every March 8th I will remember him and feel lucky that I got to know him.
Before that,
March 8th was just a normal day.
I'm sure spring was in the air sometimes,
other times there were blizzards.
I'm sure life looked normal - headed on a vector I didn't notice
just living life.
Now I wonder.
What will March 8th look like next year?
March 8th 2022
March 8th 2023
March 8th
March 8th
What will the March 8ths of the future have in store for us?
Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge! I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by.
Time Travel
From my couch, I can stare at the picture of my grandma’s house.
I can pretend I’m back there on Borbeck.
Is this how time travel works?
Art by my Aunt Cynthia
How does memory work for you? Can you remember whole days? Close your eyes and remember entire conversations? How much continuous memory can you have at a time? Is it like time travel?
Or are you like me — do you remember things in slices? The toys under the dining room hutch. The big table with blue and white dishes. A column between the living room and dining room – perfect for leaning. Aunts and Uncles and cousins filling the living room with the glow of big Christmas Lights on the tree in the corner? M&Ms and ice cream served with pretzels. The way the sidewalk led down to the garden shed. The sound of the porch. The azaleas. The shelf in the corner with photo albums. The saltines in the canister on the kitchen counter – cookies were sometimes in the next canister over.
And oh – the chalkboard in the kitchen. I had to stand on the vinyl chairs underneath, but once I was up there…? Oh that chalkboard. It was meant for chores, I think. A leftover from the 10 children household. But to me it was a place to draw, to list important things, to play school.
I can’t travel back in time, but I can sit on the couch and stare at the picture of my grandma’s house.
On the deck, Finn starts acting like a wack-a-loon. He’s sniffing around and we think maybe he’s been stung by a bee.
The kids are freaking out.
“Call the vet right now.” “I think he’s having a seizure.”
We try to calm the children. We say, “Let’s just finish our dinner and watch him. He probably just got stung or something.”
We try to sit and finish dinner, but the children are preoccupied with Finn’s preoccupation. He’s really sniffing the edge of the deck, and his tail is curled under.
“He’s scared!” the kids yell.
“There’s probably a bear under the deck!” they say and the freaking out begins again.
Everyone is convinced that there is a bear hiding under our deck. They refuse to calm down until we check.
Mr. Thought asks, “If it is a bear, will I be able to outrun it back up the steps?”
The kids tell him no, but remind him that he only has to creep down the steps and look under the deck, he doesn’t have to go all the way down to the doorway where he would, perhaps, corner the bear and be attacked.
Mr. Thought practices getting over the gate quickly.
H takes Finn inside, where Finn begs to be let back out to the deck to protect us all.
Mr. Thought walks down the steps slowly, looks around, and walks back up slowly.
“I was about to give up my search when I saw the most …”
H comes back out, “What was there? Was it a bear?”
Mr. Thought begins again in a slow calm voice. “Everything is okay.”
There’s something about the way he says it though, that makes us all feel like maybe he did see a mama bear hiding in the corner under the deck.
“I was about to give up my search when I saw the most beautiful nest of baby birds!”
The teenagers have started a 30 Day health challenge. They woke up early, on their own. Well, the 13-year old did, and then he woke up his sister. She doesn’t like alarm clocks, so for once she actually asked him to wake her up.
When I walked down to get my coffee, the yoga mat was already set up, the hand weights were out, and the oatmeal was started on the stove.
There was even cut fruit on the counter.
H grabbed an apple.
“Did you wash that apple?” I asked and I handed him the fruit and veggie wash. He had washed it, but he washed it again.
He was chopping up the apple when his sister walked in the kitchen, eyes wide at all the preparation.
“Wow!” She said as her brother started chopping the apple.
“I can’t promise I’m going to do all of this every day,” H said.
L started to nod, taking in all of the prep work, “I know.”
“I mean,” he continued, “these are the last of the strawberries.”
Saturday during the pandemic
Slept in until 8
Had just one zoom, with friends though
Took the dog on a walk
Tried to read a bit
Talked to my Mom on the phone
We had popcorn and veggies for dinner
Watched Harry Potter Six
Shared and finished a box of Thin Mints
Gave the kids elderberry gummies
Saturday, during the pandemic
On a Thought 