O and I decided we needed a diversion, actually I decided I needed a diversion, something to get my mind away from what I was thinking, what was on my mind. Baseball, it is the space in between which takes us off our worries, for even a moment.
Baseball. I remember going to watch my home team, the Astros, play games indoors in the Astrodome. I’ve since moved away from home and my team has moved out of the Astrodome, but I am still a fan. I still pull for my Astros, though I have lost the connection to the ‘stros and I don’t get out to the ballpark as much as I used to; I still try to take in a game when I can.
It happened last week, a week ago today. The crew came and cut down our tree. The Ash tree. She had been in front of our home for as long we’d lived here. She was here before we moved in, before the kids were born, and before we got Ivy. She shaded our front lawn without fail, never complaining. I’d raked her leaves for 22 years, I’d trimmed her branches – before she got too tall, and then, she got sick. I didn’t notice at first but this spring she didn’t leaf out along with the other trees –the maples, the oaks, the willows, and others. She had always been a late bloomer and the first to shed her leaves in the fall. But, when she did leaf out she looked sickly; a green branch here, a green branch there, interspersed amid many sickly dead grey branches. Then the crews came, first with their paint marking other trees in the neighborhood, they left a faint red dot at the her base. Then they came back with their ropes, saws, grinders, and trucks. They had many trees to cut down – we counted over seventy stumps in the neighborhood. Ours was one of the last to come down, but she came down anyway. The stump is still there as a reminder of where she once stood. This morning, I looked closely and I could see the stump sending out a couple of shoots in a desperate gasp to survive. It’s too late, our tree is gone.
Sometimes you just have to pull over and take time and breathe.
“The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart.” Helen Keller (1880-1968); Author, Lecturer, Activist
I was up north for the weekend. I drove north Friday night and came home, reluctantly, Sunday evening. Saturday was busy. It was full of chores and full of pulling in air, something I desperately needed. Saturday afternoon, I slow-cooked a pork butt on the grill and made my famous cucumber and red onion salad, at least it’s famous to me. It tastes like summer. I sliced off some pork slathering it with BBQ sauce Continue reading Roadside beach→
There is always room. Whether it’s a home, shelter, or an eave. There is room.
“After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die.” ― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web
I am Up North for a couple of days. Jobs that needed to be done. I wanted to come up in May and couldn’t. Last weekend, fell through with much to do and too little time. Next weekend is filled, and the weekend after that… well, you get the picture. Room has more than one meaning.
Today’s post is in response to the prompt at the Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge at Word Press. ‘This week’s prompt is “Room.” From the four walls that currently surround you to the infinite potential of space, this week we’d like you to show us your take on room, rooms, or a room.’
I have four walls; but others like the dear spider use two walls and imagines the other two. We are all constrained by nature and defined by it as well. There’s always room. I think Charlotte said it best….”what’s a life anyway…” It’s what is in between those two events that is important. It’s the way we leave our mark. It’s our service to our family, friends, and community. It’s how we leave our room.
I came up to work, not blog and I have a list a mile long, maybe even longer. School finished for my students yesterday and I could hear Alice Cooper wailing away in the background. I don’t have papers to grade, but I have chores to do and I have room on my schedule. Making the Days Count, one day at a time.
It’s another cold winter day. It has been over a month since my students have been at school on a Monday morning. It is our third bad weather day this year, and it means summer vacation will start three days later, maybe four if the schools call off tomorrow, which is highly likely. I think moms are at their whit’s end. I am, too. Last week it was cold, though not as cold or windy as it is today, or will be today. I had morning bus duty last week and it was cold. A few kids climbed off the buses wearing shorts, or a light jacket. I have no idea how they got out of the house dressed like that, but they did. It was cold. But, today is even colder and the temperatures are going to drop even more throughout the day.
last Friday’s sunrise, on my way to school (and bus duty)
Today is W’s birthday, he’s 16 today, and actually, he’ll be officially 16 sometime around 10:30 PM. I remember the day well, though B probably remembers it differently. It seems like the other day, and some days it seems a million years ago. Saturday we watched him wrestle and take second place in the conference for his weight class. He has come a long way, we all have. Continue reading Another summer day, sort of→
I am up north for the weekend. It’ll be the last weekend for a while and I enjoyed the sunset last night and the morning view with my coffee for one last time this summer.
I drove up by myself Friday after school. B and the kids stayed home; W had a football game Friday night and again Saturday morning along with loads of homework, I do hope he is making a dent in it, and O had softball Friday and Saturday, too. It’s strange being here alone. I had a long list of things to do and I added to it as I walked around yesterday. The boats are out and stored for the winter, the dock and boat lifts, too. The patio furniture is in the garage and I have shuffled the organization from summer to winter mode with snow shovels and the snow blower ready for action when we come back this winter. I have a few more chores before I close up and leave this afternoon and I am debating about leaving the vents open and scheduling one more trip before winter sets in to close them. Continue reading Blame the dog→
Yesterday morning I awoke early, too early, around four thirty, it was dark, the kind of darkness that is complete except for the light that spills over into our yard from our neighbor’s security light. I looked out onto the lake and it was dark almost black it was such deep blue. The stars covered by a blanket of invisible clouds completed the late night and early morning darkness.
Ivy was up before me, in fact, she was the reason I was up as early as I was, she was concerned with something in the yard, her yard, and letting me know in her own way, loudly. I let her out and lay down on the couch to read, or try to read. After she had searched the yard, I let her inside and she jumped up and nested between my legs at the foot of the couch, rested her head on my calf, and fell back to sleep. It wasn’t long before I joined her and drifting off with the book open on my chest.
It’s another beautiful morning by the lake. It’s quiet and everyone is still asleep, including Ivy. I have drained the coffee pot, checked e-mail, transferred photos from photo cards, played games, and done everything imaginable except start writing.
The weekend has come and gone and with it another Ausable River Canoe Marathon. It’s an epic event for the town. There have been sixty-six of them, including this year’s race. The town hosts a festival and it is a big deal. The parade is bigger than the Fourth of July parade. There is a Saturday car show, carnival rides, a craft fair with vendors, and at nine o’clock, the race begins when racers pick up their canoes and run to the river, jump in, and begin paddling to Oscoda – some 120 miles away. It’s quite an event.
I love northern Michigan weather. At home, when there’s a cool night and warm sunny day, B and I will look at each other, sigh and say “It’s Michigan weather.” Monday was warm, not hot, and it got windier as the day wore on. Monday night, really Tuesday morning, thunderstorms rolled through and brought with them a cloudy cool Tuesday morning. I actually slept late waking just before nine and made a lazy start to the day. It stayed cool windy and cloudy most of yesterday. Today it is cool, almost cold. The cottage thermometer read 46 and fog hugged the lake. The sky was mostly clear with a stray contrail, a few puffy clouds, and the last bit of the moon peeking through.
fog on Lake Margrethe – my first shot – iPhone and Instagram
I am up north, again. I drove up late Wednesday night with Ivy. She was a good passenger and rode quietly in the back seat. She’s still sleeping like everyone else and it is quiet here. I can look out through a new window this morning and see the lake, the boats, and the breeze blowing making the lake choppy and rustling the trees. Continue reading a new window→
