It’s been over two weeks since I wrote a post. It’s not because I haven’t had ideas. I’ve had loads of ideas and I even started a post last Sunday morning, but I ran out of time. That post died on the vine, it’s no longer relevant.
Since my last post, O has been to her first middle school social. The social was the day after her birthday and she had a wonderful time and could not stop talking about on our way to W’s final regular season football game. We arrived with a minute left in the second quarter to watch the Tigers score a touchdown and take 14-9 lead to the locker room. They needed to win the game to make the playoffs. This is how they did it.
Since then, W’s football team has ripped off two more wins and next weekend play in the state playoff quarterfinals. The team’s first playoff win was in the blinding snow and howling winds on Halloween night with a last minute field goal to tie and a touchdown to win in overtime. The second win was yesterday afternoon – it was a beautiful fall afternoon, perfect for a high school football game. Continue reading The Can Crush→
It snuck up on me, I don’t know how it did, but it did. Today is O’s birthday. She’s 12 and it doesn’t seem possible. I remember the morning we went to the hospital. The delivery was scheduled and B’s parents were here from Ohio to keep an eye on W and help where they could. When we came home with O – she didn’t have an official name, yet – we would decide between two choices: O and Hannah. We stuck with O and I’m glad.
October 23, 2002 – “It’s a Girl” fly from the mailbox and leaves litter the ground. It’s fall.
So much has happened between then and now – O’s growing up and is now in sixth grade. Sometimes, she’s sassy, but most of the time she’s my O.
Today’s her birthday; and there will be more birthdays to come. There will be more growing and probably a lot more sass, definitely a lot more sass; but she’ll still be my O, and B’s too, but I write this blog, so she’s mine for now.
Last night we looked through the photos of her first day and we snuggled, laughed, and cried. It was a special day twelve years ago and I captured it with our first digital camera. The photos look grainy but we don’t have similar photos of W – he’s pre-digital and I didn’t think to bring a camera into the delivery room when he was born.
O and I – she’s less than an hour old and all swaddled and warm…
Since that first camera, we’ve had five more – including the two we are using now. And, we have loads of photos, more than I can process. I am not including our phones, which happen to have better cameras than that first digital camera from 2002.
O came into the world about 8:35 AM on a Wednesday morning. I had a sub in my classroom and my students were researching in the library. I don’t have a sub this morning, but I’ll share the photo and a memory. Later this morning, my science students will be researching in the library – just twelve years later; my how some things change and some things simply stay the same.
B’s parents welcome O – grandpa passed away this past summer – we miss him dearly – glad we had the memories of his laugh and the twinkle in his eye…
Tonight, will have dinner and a cake – a delicious Italian Cream Cake. It’s our birthday cake, homemade with real buttermilk and frosted with cream cheese frosting. You can’t beat it. A birthday in our home isn’t the same without it. But for now, I’d better get moving. It’s gonna be a great day. I know it and I can feel it, so I had better jump up, jump in and seize the day. Making the days Count, one day at a time, one memory, and one birthday at a time.
Have you ever come close to forgetting a birthday? Or, let one sneak up on you?
I love baseball, I always have. This past season, I was able to get to the ballpark twice. Once in Detroit and once in Chicago and both were good games.
Baseball is in the post-season and the San Francisco Giants will face the Kansas City Royals in the World Series starting next Tuesday. I got home tonight in time to watch the bottom of the ninth and three run walk off homer that propelled the Giants into their third World Series in five years. Tonette, my friend from San Francisco, is going wild in San Francisco. I can’t say I blame her.
I’ve been thinking about San Francisco lately. I enjoyed living there and I will never forget the three years I lived and worked in Bay Area.
ESPN is showing the 30 for 30 film – “The Day the Series Stopped.” The sports network produced the film about the Lomo Prieta earthquake and the World Series and it does a fine job capturing what I remember of that day and the weeks that followed. The film debuted Tuesday evening and I’ve watched it three times, each time I take away something different. It’s well put together and the message is how sport transcends life. Oakland A’s manager Tony La Russa explained it best –
the two maples work in concert to brighten our front yard – dreamy
Trees are ablaze around us. It’s fall. We have two trees, which appear as if they are afire; yesterday the sun’s light reflected into the bedroom and illuminated it in an orange glow. Soon the leaves will be falling to the ground and covering the lawn. Soon, my weekend activities will shift from dreaming to working on the lawn clearing leaves. That’s okay, that’s is what happens at this time of the year; the days get shorter and the dreams become stronger.
The dream of the lake, the pull of the lake.
I long to see the sun rise over the lake and watch the sun’s rays slowly bring the hills and trees to life. It’s quiet at the lake at this time of the year only a few people visit in the late fall. I’ll be there soon enough, I have a few chores to do before winter sets in. Last year I went alone, this year it’ll be a family affair and all of us will venture north for a short weekend of working the yard and getting the cottage ready for winter. It’ll be all hands on deck and then we’ll get to rest and relax Saturday night and dream.
the lake on early summer morning, mist rising off the still lake and the sun slowly bringing the hills to life on the opposite shore – dreamy
In the meantime, my dream is to finish grading lab reports and articles of the week today. It’s going to be a great day, the weather is cool, misty and the forecast calls for rain. Perfect weather for sitting down and working. My dreams will have to sustain for another day. Making the days Count, one day at a time, one trip back in time, one dream to keep me going.
What dreamy place gives you a ‘gentle push’ when you need it?
campfire and the moon when the sun sets – dreamy
Today’s post is in response to the Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge – prompt – at Word Press. The week’s prompt is “Dreamy.” This week, we’d like to see an image that looks dreamy to you. A photo of a place you often visit in dreams. A snapshot of your dreamy boy- or girlfriend. A scene that looks a bit out-of-this world. Take us on a flight of fancy!
I have been to two funerals as a teacher. I do not want to go to another funeral again. Ever.
Both funerals I attended were in my first two years as a teacher. Actually, the first funeral was in the summer of between my first and second years of teaching. It was awful. The second was less than a year later. It was just as awful. I have not been to another funeral since though one of students lost their dad last spring. The teachers were not invited and I wanted to go, but I couldn’t; I had my own family funeral to attend to last spring.
one of my favorite teacher gifts ever. Cherished.
At the time, there were not words in my vocabulary to express the feeling of awfulness I had when I looked into the eyes of my twelve year-old student and told him and her that I was sorry that their mother had passed away. I think I fumbled with some words like “I am so sorry for your loss.” Or maybe I said, “I have been praying for you and your family, please let me know what I can do to help you.” No matter what I said, it didn’t take away the pain of losing their mother. Or the uncertainty of what the future held for them. Those kids – Melinda and Jeremiah – are now in their twenties and out of college and have jobs like me. Occasionally, I get to visit the high school and I ran into Melinda on my way in one time, we had a nice conversation and then we parted. I had Jeremiah’s sister two years after their mom passed away and she wrote an amazing essay about how her mother’s passing was an important event in her life. I remember the essay well, it was good, thoughtful, well written; it was head and shoulders above her peer’s papers. I followed them along in high school occasionally asking high school teachers or counselors whom I knew how they were doing and then they graduated high school and I lost touch. They’re grown now, or as grown as someone is when they are in the second half of their twenties.
There was a time in my life when I was a nighttime creature. Thirty years ago this past summer, I met a girl and I was attending summer school full-time, working full-time, spending the weekend nights with her and her friends – up all night, and sleeping part-time. I could do it then, but not now.
the end of game discussion – the South end of the field
Thirty years later, that girl is my wife and next week – in seven days – we will celebrate 23 years of marriage.
Thirty years later, my eyelids are heavier than they once were and I can’t hang out too late, but on Friday nights in the fall – there is Friday Night Lights. I have been a high school football fan for a long time and I enjoy watching the games. It’s even more fun because W is out there this year – hanging on the sidelines. He has yet to play Friday night, but he’s there for film, weights, conditioning, and practice working and waiting for the moment when the Tigers will need him. Every Tiger player was there once, too. It’s the way things are. Continue reading Weekly Photo Challenge – Nighttime→
Big Rock, Illinois – it is not far from my here. It’s a small town just west of Wheaton, a tiny farming community on US 30 West. If you blink, you could miss it. And, even though it’s a small town, I notice it every time I drive west. A smile comes across my face when I see the sign for the Big Rock Schools and their buses.
Big Rocks. I’ve been busy – it’s been more than two weeks since my last post. Fall began a couple of days ago and where I live – 42 N we’ve lost eight minutes of daylight since Tuesday and our daylight will be a hair under 12 hours – 11H 59M. I forget what I wore for my school pictures but I’ll know soon enough when I get my new school ID next week. I think it was a blue shirt, but I am not certain about the tie. It’s not important it’s a pebble.
Lately, I’ve been overwhelmed by Big Rocks. I filled my jar of life full of smaller rocks and have had a difficult time fitting all of what I need to do, have to do, and want to do into the jar. So, a couple of weeks ago I started all over, hence my absence. Continue reading Big Rocks→
I am a city boy, a suburbanite. B is a country girl. Sometimes we clash, but most of the time we don’t. I met her 30 years ago this past summer. It seems like the other day and I suppose it was.
ADVENTURE – the open road, a barn, and an endless blue sky
It sounds sort of harsh – suburbanite conjures up visions of “Real Housewives of ……” or some other recent popular television show. Several years ago, I read a book, Death By Suburb: How to Keep the Suburbs from Killing Your Soul, a writer’s view of living in the suburbs and the author poked fun at suburban culture and offered advice. Regardless, I am a suburbanite.
I’ve always lived in a city or near a city – in the suburbs. The jobs I had out of college meant I had to live in or near a city. When I went back to school to learn how to teach, I dreamt of moving to the country, we dreamed together. Nevertheless, we never did. Instead, we became more firmly entrenched in the suburban life. We had kids, our kids grew, went to school, played sports, joined clubs, and the dream of moving to the country faded. But, I still dream of moving to a place where a five-mile commute includes driving through fields of corn, soybeans, wheat and pastures. Where a drive to the grocery store is a once a week adventure to the city or a snowstorm means we stay home inside and I plow the driveway with my truck or better, a tractor.
BOOM, CRACK, boom, BOOM, crackle, zap; that was a couple of hours ago. Ivy came running into our room And jumped into our bed – startled and out of sorts. A line of thunderstorms was moving through and it upset her. It woke us up, too.
She curled up at the bottom of the bed – B never lets her sleep there – and snuggled up to my leg closely in a tight ball. I was able to get back to sleep, sort of, but my alarm woke me less than hour later. I am not sure if B was too sleepy to care about Ivy, or understood. We’re all kind of jittery today.
I am up now and Ivy is, too. The storms moved through and she’s snuggled up in a chair beside my desk downstairs sleeping fitfully. I can’t go back to sleep. It’s the first day of the new school year. It’s the kids first day, too. I’ll get kids next Tuesday and I’ll be jittery, again.
W is going to be a junior and O is off to middle school. How did that happen? It seems everyone is getting older and I am just getting wiser. B and Ivy get their house back today and have it all the way until early June. She’ll miss us and then get back to her routine; we will, too. Ivy will miss us, too. I love coming home and having Ivy meet me at the door or in the yard. It’s the best.
Last night I packed lunches, made breakfast sandwiches so we would have something to eat for breakfast this week, I’d spent the day on last minute details – there is always something which lies unfinished at the end of each summer. I have a longer list of unfinished projects this year, but it is understandable. Those jobs will get done, eventually.
Today is our first day back to school. I’ve got a new lunch box and it’s ready for my lunch. O’s got her backpack packed and W’s is, too. It’s gonna be a great day and tomorrow could be a million and six times better, but this could possibly the best day ever, so I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, one first day over and over every year.
Do you have first day back to school memories? Do share, thank you.
an A340 glides out of the sun for a landing at O’Hare field – Sunday August 17th
Lately, it seems I have been very good at coming up with diversions. Errands, movies, games, practices; and on the surface, they appear legitimate, but really, they are distracting. O and I have been distracting ourselves quite well, lately. Honestly, I think we are both nervous about the coming year. She is headed off to 6th grade in three days and I am headed to 8th grade science. Saturday, I took her to O’Hare to watch airplanes land and takeoff after getting her new eyeglasses, and we did it again yesterday after the softball game. Granted, O’Hare was close, but there were so many more important things we could have been doing, but we were distracting ourselves from what’s important.
