Too Curious?

This is the final installment of THE SLICE OF LIFE CHALLENGE 2015.  Each year during the month of March teachers and students are invited to write daily, post and comment on at least three other participants offerings.  Every year, I am inspired and motivated to write.  I wouldn't miss it.  Here is my SOL 2015, #31:

Holding my mother's hand, I watched my brother and sister dash for the car, leaving us behind.  In no hurry my mother walking a slow pace along the manicured lawn, remarked about the colors and beauty of the flower beds. We arrived at the car, my brother and sister hunched in the back seat urging, "Hurry Ma, let's get outta here!"

Before that,  my mother shading her eyes from the sun, pressed her nose into the window pane of a large building. There was something going on in there.  Adults in fancy dress milled in and out of the ornate threshold.

Before that, my mother stopped the car in the parking lot and announced that, "We are going to see how the other half lives."

Before that, we saw the bell boys who stood outside The Shawmut Inn in their  long pants and jackets adorned with gold braids and brass.  My mother slowed down under the portico.  We all thought she was stopping the car, but instead sped ahead once a young man stepped toward our car.  She opted for another place to park the car.

Before that, my teen-aged sister tried to rub the melted ice cream that dribbled down my front.  The napkin stuck leaving behind little puffs of white on my shorts and shirt. It was a hot day my legs were even sticky.

Before that, we stopped at Garside's Ice Cream and my mother paid for four cones from the change jingling in her small purse.  Through the week she stuck stray coins in there. She used it only on weekend excursions to places like the beach.  She always brought a little money, just in case...

Before that, we drove along the river with the windows rolled down singing.

Before that, we piled into the car in our rubber flip flops, shorts and the coolest shirts we could find because it was much too hot to be stuck in the house and even hotter outside.

Before that, my mother said we were going for a drive. A long summer drive meant all four windows were rolled way down as the cool air chased the heat away. Long summer drives were always a series of expected, yet unexpected events orchestrated by an adventurous, daring woman who was at times a bit too curious for her less adventurous teenagers.  As the story goes, me (the youngest at the time) did not know any better.

Super Powers

This morning I was so thrilled to be listening to a young one read.  We have been working so hard making meaning using text; and with that comes expression and phrasing.   This student read three books in succession with great confidence and fluency. So long to reading word by word.    My cheeks hurt from smiling through the books, I added, "Wow, you have been reading right along just like a story teller.  Wow.  You've been working on that.  You did it, didn't you?"

He sat back in his chair, paused and then offered while unzipping his jacket, "You know why?"
Watching him unzip, I was trying to anticipate his reasoning.  With his warm up jacket unzipped, he puffed up his chest.  "I'm Super Man!" he said revealing the BIG S!

How I love my job!

Of Little Grace

The melting snow has become grainy crystals of ice. Still there is a big fence of snow separating our property from the neighbors. Holding the empty cake pan with a thank you note for my belated birthday cake, I peered over to see if the neighbor kids were playing outside. The pan needed to be returned before it got lost in the shuffle of our kitchen. Seeing no one I contemplated the road which would bring me to the front of their house nearly a block away. Instead I looked for little foot prints in the snow, evidence that the trek next door had been successful at some point in time. I figured it was worth a try. I paused, looked ahead, noting it wasn't that far. I had to get over the bank of deep snow. The first step held my adult weight, but the second sent me sinking in snow the entire length on my left leg disappeared. My right leg only sunk halfway, but created an odd shift of my weight. I was stuck. I mean really stuck. I couldn't move. Wiggling my leg did not release the icy grip. I began to laugh. Yelling for help would be far too embarrassing. The oldest interrupted dribbling his basketball, came over to grab the pan and asked if I needed a hand. Come on, I thought, I can get out. I don't have to cause a scene. For a split second I thought, what if I can't get out. Without thought, my bare hands plunged into the ice. The only way out was to sit. The snow was saturated with ice water making it feel doubly cold.  I sat back, shifting my weight so I could pull my leg out. My Bean boots were barely tied; I prayed that they would stay on my feet or that they would not collect snow. Pivoting I noticed how dirty and muddy the snow was in places. I pushed my body away from the bank and onto the puddly pocked driveway. I snickered all that way into the house, my butt soaked and my hands cold and dripping wet. Relieved that I escaped this one, shaking my head, I remembered I have a knack for getting into and out of the funniest predicaments, but it is seldom graceful.

Puddles

The grey ocean met the dull milky sky. Everything seemed colorless to her. She roamed through the day looking for things to comfort: a book filled with heroic words left her feeling empty and powerless. She was grumpy, but really had little to be grumpy about, although many locals were irritable about the weather. Restlessness drew her outside where snow banks still made formidable walls separating neighbors. There were signs of reprieve from this relentless winter season, however. Temperatures were rising. Snow and ice were melting. Standing in a once frozen puddle, her unlined Bean boots reserved for spring kept her feet dry.  

Even mud puddles are little blessings making any Mainer, even grumpy ones rejoice after a winter that has lingered a bit too long.

A Balm

Surrounding myself with beauty
Soothes my soul,
Be it a bird's feather,
The delicate spiral of a shell
Or
A satellite of tight buds,
Lace-like.

Surrounding myself with beauty
Soothes my soul,
A balm for dark times.

(Slice of Life Day 27-Hosted by The Two Writing Teachers)

Self Care

Although it was a balmy 45 degrees yesterday, I took refuge in the bedroom-the warmest room in the house.  As a buffer between home and work, I lounged on the bed with a good book.  Once my husband came home, we ate.  Then we both returned to the "warm room" each with a book.  While we read, the cats and dogs joined us. We had a full bed. Being cozy and warm, my eyes kept closing.  In an attempt to continue reading-the book rested opened on my chest.  I read in spurts, but finally gave into the coziness.  Snuggling into my husband, my head rested in the crook of his arm.  About an hour later, I wiped the drool from my face and adjusted my glasses that pressed into my face while I snored.  Plans to go to studio to finish a ring were curtailed.  Instead of going out into the cold, dark night I put my pajamas on and continued to read and rest, read and rest.  This was an act of self-care.

The Promise of Return

Somedays are dark.  Somedays it is hard to wade through the muck of life.  I become sad at times.  I worry.  Often something, despite myself startles me and knocks me into a state of gratitude.

Last night was a tough night with teenagers.  If you have raised teenagers, I needn't go into detail.  Life can be trying at times.  Sleep was fitful; tossing, turning and a tired brain  awoke in overdrive.  

This morning, I escaped to work, seeking reprieve.  I nearly rushed to start the engine to  loosen the ice on the windshield, without pausing to notice.  All was quiet outside, aside from a cardinal who sang to me from the highest branch of a deciduous nearby.  A dusty red, the bird's breast expanded with each note.  The song made me happy.  I smiled.

There is so much to be thankful for despite the struggles and lessons in life.  I choose to live a whole-hearted life, noticing the unexpected gifts. It is certain the cardinal will return.