The patio is done!

We finished our new patio! I wrote a "slice of life" about this sanity project back in April. We've worked very hard since then. Yes, it took us many weeks, working around our babysitting duties and other time demands. In the end, we created this 11' x 12' space just in time for a weekend of the most incredible weather (cool, dry, low humidity). Let me share photos from 'start to finish' of our work, and a short poem about the project, as well.

We no sooner dug out the patio, when rain was expected.

First, we made a layer of pea gravel.

Then we add rock dust, and began placing flagstones.

If you like puzzles, you will enjoy this!

Our patio is done.

all good projects

I wonder, do all good projects start with a sense of frustration?

my overall crankiness about our ill-defined, unkempt, blah backyard

the eyesore of the rusting fire pit

the plague of weeds and mud

the annoyance of no place to sit and relax

the exasperation of home remodeling delays delays delays

we traded these for a do-it-ourselves flagstone patio

this desire to get something done,

to imagine start do finish enjoy

walking the stone yard, choosing flagstone

days of sweaty labor, down on our knees

measuring digging leveling

pea gravel rock dust 

negotiating our different approaches, rethinking

more sweaty labor, down on our knees

laying the flagstone

adding more rock dust

leveling, adjusting, repositioning

and

now look

just beautiful!

__________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

Circumstances Alter

A poem-story about some unexpected visitors when we were watching the grandkids (three year old 'Frog' and 1 year old 'Bird') -

In retrospect, Frog’s words 

were a foreshadowing, when she

declared Deuce is coming over,

causing me to whip my head up

from the sandbox in surprise

only to see she simply meant 

the dog was running alongside the fence

keeping parallel with us while

still safely ensconced in his yard

like always

ah, not.

Right that very moment, 

that big ol’ lumbering dog

found a hole in the fence 

from where a previous storm

had sent sailing a big ol’ branch

and busted off the picket

unbeknownst to us,

meaning,

hello,

open season,

the neighbors' dogs can

jump through the fence

and join us in the sandbox!

ah, not.

Frog screamed in terror and

I surely wanted NOT to be

the adult in charge. 

Deuce is a very big dog.

To date, our entire relationship

has been across the fence

from one another.

All at once, here he was,

running to us, barking excitedly

I scooped up Frog, holding

her close, hurrying away, and

speaking soothingly to Frog,

saying he's a nice dog (I prayed)

Deuce paused for a moment

in the sandbox and then

ran to keep up with us.

ah, no.

I hurried towards 

the house carrying Frog,

while Deuce was

rushing along right at my heels

There was Tony holding Bird up high,

running from the the other side

of the yard, just as surprised

as I by our canine visitor, and

trying his best to wave

Deuce back through the fence,

to leave the way he came.

ah not.

I quickly opened the back door

and basically dropped Frog

into the family room for

safety, pivoting back to Tony, and

taking Bird from him, only

to hear Frog cry out 

from inside Oh no Nana, 

I have a shovel full of sand!

ah not.

That’s when Frog first lived

Mimi Ingram’s wisdom

Circumstances alter cases -

who cares about a pile of sand 

on the rug if no one has been 

bitten by a big ol’ dog? 

ahhhhh.

I am ‘big dog’ phobic,

but I wasn’t feeling so afraid

of Deuce; after all these months

of being alongside him in our 

backyards, I knew him to be 

old and slow and calm;

I was feeling scared of his buddy Ace,

however; oh my, different story; 

he barks so loudly, and

the owners take him for walks

with a thick chain to rein him in.

ah, no. 

Yes, as I hurried to get the 

girls inside the house, it was Ace

that was sending shivers

up my spine. In the tumult,

my eyes searched for

this second dog - was he

going to follow Deuce through

the opening in the fence?

ah, no, please, no.

I heard Ace barking loudly, and

then I saw - Ace was sporting

a cone around his head!

Which was bad for him 

and great for us at this

particular moment -  Ace

couldn’t quite fit, 

couldn’t wedge himself

through the opening.

ah, thank goodness.

Hearing all the commotion,

their owner was out back, too,

making apologies for Deuce

slipping into our yard

and praising his sweetness, 

his good nature - Deuce loves 

children and simply wanted 

to be friends. She and Tony chatted 

while he repaired the fence 

with a spare picket from our garage;

the girls and I watched in

safe fascination from the 

family room window.

ah, yes!

Frog wanted to know, 

why did Deuce want 

to be our friend? My answer

was a bit of mind-reading,

I suppose he likes seeing

us play and decided to get 

right with us. 

I must say, 

from my perspective,

Deuce is a better 

acquaintance 

than friend.

Just sayin’

__________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

Strawberries for picking

It is June and the strawberries

are blooming popping ripe for tasting

In the neighbor’s front yard

these sweet delights 

are like toddlers running 

in between around all over

their happy wild natural garden 

planted all along the curb

so that everyone and anyone

might feast 

We wandered over after naps

each grandchild with a small container 

to fill

Our preschooler was focused

searching, lifting leaves, looking under,

stepping closer, excitedly tossing each into

her small pail

Whereas our toddler stood transfixed

alongside us

devouring each and every piece of

plump red lusciousness that came her way

(assisted greatly by her dear Poppa)

while holding an empty pail

and

throughout

every

fruity

chew 

she scowled at the hosts suspiciously

yes, wrinkled brow dagger eyes pursed lips

(these last were dripping in berry juice)

Such abhorrent behavior for a guest! 

All is forgiven when you are only 19 months old

trusting only your nearest and dearest

not yet ready to welcome the stranger 

or neighbor, as it were

not realizing

the recipients of your ‘stink eye’

were the reason for this

strawberry indulgence

We all just chuckled and giggled and shook our heads

at the wondrous mystery of the young.

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

Playlists

 

Rainy weather has offered many opportunities to continue culling and clearing for our kitchen/family room remodel (which has been pushed back yet another few weeks as we make our way through an interminable permit process - oh my, THIS CONTINUED LAMENT will not be the point of today's blog post, I assure you, I assure me). 

Inside a large hope chest (really, a bench in our home), I found a treasure trove of music CD's and cassette tapes, long long forgotten. What to do with all these? 

The cassettes were problematic  - we have nothing to play these with anymore, and by and large, these were handmade playlists. Many of these I simply trashed; but, I made a small container of 'treasures' and we will see if anyone we know still has a cassette deck and whether these cassettes still play. In some cases, we are able to recreate (beloved) playlists again on our computer.

The CD sorting took an unexpectedly long time, as I opened each CD case to check for its corresponding CD, and created numerous piles:

- empty CD cases, requiring a further search through the large compilation cases

- a pile for donation

- a pile for trash (no corresponding CD can be found)

- a pile for each family member 

- a pile of "I DON'T KNOW, WHAT DO YOU THINK?" for everyone to look through

The individual piles for family members really confused me when I realized I had no music CDs for my youngest son; all the boys love music and have varied tastes - where/what/why does he have nothing? Then it dawned on me - he was ten years old when the ipod was created...he has always had music available digitally. Unlike his older brothers, he did not spend hours creating his own CDs for road trips and friends. He has no physical detritus to sort through! Extraordinary to think about.

It is astounding how clearing out this one chest led to a long, sentimental journey through time, remembering. 

It also led to a poem about creating playlists. I had a little fun with its visual structure, as I tried to capture how the technology of music collections has changed over time. Enjoy!

how to create a music playlist

imagine which songs to include? which to record first? which should be last in the set?

create the perfect music playlist romance friendship road trip dance party have fun

thinking this through you’ll need a blank cassette tape one by one spin the tunes

 on the turntable, line the needle up with the track, press record on the deck, &

build the playlist, yes there was such an art to it, don’t forget, hand write, no 

better yet, type the list of songs for the sleeve and if you really want to 

make this a gift, create vibrant cover art for the jacket, use your

imagination. later there were cd’s and computers so all

you had to do was gather songs from various cd’s & 

record an all new playlist on a blank cd 

yes a very similar process as before 

plus you could still create art

on the cd sleeve to add

sentiment and then

poof! there was

streaming &

nothing

at all

to

h

o

l
d

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

On the trail again

 

I think hiking might be one of my main writing themes. Certainly, it is one of my favorite pastimes. Yesterday, we went for a hike along a section of the Appalachian trail here in Maryland. It was really nice to be outside in the bright sunny spring weather, after a cold rainy weekend indoors. We hiked near Washington Monument State Park. This monument was the very first built to commemorate George Washington, completed in 1827 by the citizens of Boonsboro, Maryland. Here's a view of the Cumberland Valley from the monument -

We met several "thru hikers," obvious by their enormous backpacks; I always enjoy these conversations, learning insights about different lives in just a few amiable minutes. One guy was from Massachusetts and doing a ten day hike; another was from Australia and had started hiking a couple months back, only to receive word that his 92 year old mother was dying - he went home for seven weeks to be with her, and was just now back hiking the trail again. 

For today's slice, I've attempted a 'tritina' poem about our hike. (In a tritina, there are three stanzas of three lines each, with three end words repeated in varied order; there is one final line - an 'envoi' - which includes all three words in the single line.) 

brief hellos with strangers

we hike together, yet always, try as I might, I trail

my mind wanders with my feet, my thoughts rain

brief hellos with strangers leave me in a happy daze

one hiker, claiming low mileage for the days,

shared of crossing a wild, rushing stream on the trail

he was exhilarated by sun after three days of cold rain

a second hiker confided his mother’s death did reign

the recent weeks alongside her, now a gift all his days

with precious memories guiding him on the trail

rain or shine, there is joy to be found in days on the trail

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

Farmer's market

he’s collapsed at the top 

of the steps I am climbing

flopped like a fish on a dock 

not pretty

not a good smell

not a good look

rough

lured by concern

while simultaneously repulsed 

I drew slightly near

was he breathing

eyes barely open, protesting the bright sun

he groaned

got any money

no sorry I don’t 

I hurried away

so easily rationalized

I’m not fishing for money in my purse right 

on a street in the midst of everyone

I’m not taking that bait

then 

doubt

should I have?

do I have any cash on me

I would never miss the money

let’s be serious

it wasn’t about my purse

I instantaneously shut him down

cast him off

tossed empathy aside

reeled in  

judgment

as if 

I know his needs better than he does

I am blessed to know 

how he swims

who am I?

what if the next dollar he gets is his way 

out of this insufferable tangled net he is trapped within

what if he was laying there 

dreaming of release 

kale spinach onions potatoes radishes

bag ‘em

head back to the steps

he is standing now

our eyes meet

he says

you have beautiful hair

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!