Health is not valued until sickness comes. ~ Thomas Fuller

My head is hurting; my throat is sore
I can’t wait to walk out the door

Can hardly swallow except for tea
I think there are germs attacking me.

Feeling crabby but don’t want to scold
I fear I may be getting a cold.

I don’t want to hear noise – not a peep
As soon as I get home – straight to sleep!

 

 

It’s the things we carry silently within ourselves which are the heaviest burdens. ~ John Mark Green

This morning we had a two hour delay. The drive to work was like a trip through a winter wonderland. That is until I took a closer look. Some of the trees were covered with snow that glistened in the morning sunlight, but others were not so tranquil looking. I noticed that some trees were bending and straining under the weight of the five inches of heavy wet snow that fell over night. Some even had broken limbs.

I started thinking about people and how many times we look around us only superficially. My students, my friends, my colleagues, people I just pass on the street or in a store – each of them may look carefree and happy, yet who knows if they are bending or straining under the weight of challenges? Who knows if they are feeling broken.

Sometimes we get so wrapped in our own lives that we may start thinking that we are the only ones with problems. Not that I think any of us should make light of our challenges, but we need to be aware that all is not what it seems and looks can be deceiving.

Today I learned another lesson from nature. As I go through my day, I will start to look around with a new found sense of wonder and compassion. Are there people who pass my way who need an ear to listen or a shoulder on which to cry? Are they bending and straining under an unbearable weight? Can I be the sunshine someone needs to melt some of that heavy burden? I hope so.

No winter lasts forever: no spring skips it turn. ~Hal Borland

Living in Pennsylvania you have to be ready for any kind of weather.  One day you can have snow; the next it is sunny and 60 degrees.  I wrote this tonight with the help of my daughter as we had a phone conversation commiserating about the falling snow and wishfully talking about warmer weather.  So far, just a two hour delay for tomorrow, but I am guessing that could change.

A walk in the park

Birds chirping

Cool breeze through the front windows

Dinner on the deck

Easter

Free Rita’s Water Ice

Green grass

Hatchlings

Insects emerging

Jumping in puddles

Kicking off outdoor activities

Lily of the Valley

Mother’s Day

Nests in the trees

Opening Day of Baseball

Paying Uncle Sam

Quacking ducks

Rainy days

Shedding of layer

Tulips popping up

Umbrellas

Violets

Waiting for the school year to end

X-tra daylight

Young seedlings

Zinnias

Life is not a matter of milestones, but of moments. ~ Rose Kennedy

Last night my youngest grandchild, Nolan, used a fork for the first time. He is 17 months old and a little ball of energy. His face was so intent as he maneuvered his plastic fork into each piece of pear on his plate and carefully raised it to his awaiting mouth.  I had a smile from ear to ear as he lifted his fork in the air and smiled and said, “Nona” in a “Hey,look at me” way.

I don’t remember if that was a milestone I wrote in his mother’s baby book or not.  She was my first, so chances are it may be in there. I am sure it didn’t get into my son’s baby book because I was not as diligent the second time around.

I am not one of those moms who can remember how old each child was when he/she walked or talked or said a first word, but I do have so many memories.  Some of them are firsts, but most of them are just everyday moments that are etched on my heart forever.

 

 

Educating the mind without educating the heart is like no education at all.  ~Aristotle

Today I chaperoned a trip with some of my NJHS 7th and 8th graders to a local senior living facility. We were going there in honor of Read Across America Day.  The 17 students spent their lunch recess perusing the many picture books I have in my classroom. Some brought their own favorites from home. We filled three canvas bags with books to be read in three different locations within the facility.  

Together with a few parents we left after school to spend an hour reading and chatting with the residents.  It was our first time there, so we didn’t really know what to expect. Upon arrival we split into three groups and went to our various locations.  

I accompanied a group to the memory care unit.  I have a very special place in my heart for those sweet souls.  My mother spent almost two years on a floor just like this one in another facility.  Since her passing in September, I relish my memories of her and the happiness that was brought to her by volunteers who visited her and played music, made crafts, or sang songs.  

The staff brought in folding chairs so that the students could sit next to the residents who were in regular chairs or wheelchairs.  They read their chosen stories and then either switched places or books with another student. We weren’t permitted to take pictures for legal and privacy reasons, but the faces of the kids and the residents will be etched in my memory for a long time.  

They were sitting side by side reading or listening so intently. I watched as the seniors pointed to pictures and as students engaged them in the book.  Some residents were more chatty than others; some were making the students laugh. I was grinning from ear to ear. I think I know now how the Grinch must have felt when his heart “grew three sizes that day.”  

I am looking forward to our next visit in a couple of week. I hope this is the beginning of a long relationship of inter-generational camaraderie. One thing that did slip my mind in the nearly six months my mom has been gone is just how HOT these facilities are kept.  I think next time we will be wearing school t-shirts instead of regular uniforms!!

 

 

Even if you are a minority of one, the truth is the truth.  ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Tonight I sleep with a heavy heart
So many thoughts –
but where do I start?

He said, they said,
but who knows the truth?

The lens you look through
shows what you’ll see.
What did I witness?
It cannot be!

He said, they said,
but who knows the truth?

The pattern repeats. When will we learn?
Too many years for peace we do yearn.

He said, they said,
but who knows the truth?

Where are the adults to lead the way?
Standing in silence – nothing to say.

He said, they said,
but who knows the truth?

Is this the reason for all the rain?
Tears from heaven revealing God’s pain?

He said, they said,
but who knows the truth?

We may never get too the real truth,
Stand on conviction, and fail our youth.

He said, they said,
but who knows the truth?

 

Always fall asleep with a dream and wake up with a purpose  ~ Unknown

I was struggling to choose my “one little word” for 2019. I have chosen balance, mindfulness, and declutter in the past. The more I thought about this past year, I thought about why I did certain things or made certain decisions. I read a lot about finding my “why.”

I turned 60 in the fall and have been working through a few health issues. I don’t have as much energy as I use to have, and some tasks are really difficult. However, that doesn’t mean I am throwing in the towel, on the contrary. I am reevaluating things that I do each day that are just a matter of habit. Climbing stairs is very challenging for me, so at home I don’t go up and down mindlessly. I only go up if I have a need or a reason to change floors – a purpose. That’s it. That’s my OLW for 2019 – PURPOSE.

I want to do things for a purpose. I want to find my purpose.

Good things come to those who bake.  ~ Anonymous

I spent Thanksgiving with my siblings at my brother and sister-in-law’s house. I was charged with bringing an appetizer and my applesauce “muffins” and corn muffins.  Now I admit that the corn muffins come straight from the Jiffy mix box. I don’t try to hide that fact. The applesauce “muffins” are a different story. They are made from scratch with a recipe from my 1979 spiral bound (cover notwithstanding) Betty Crocker Cookbook. The recipe is actually for an applesauce cake, but I took liberty years ago of making the batter into cupcake tins.  Since we eat them with our meal and not for dessert, we call them “muffins.”

On Tuesday night I went to double check the recipe and make sure I had everything I needed.  Panic set in. The cookbook was not in its place on the bookshelf. I scoured my office to no avail.  I did however find my mom’s copy of her 1950 Betty Crocker Cookbook. It was missing its spine and had envelopes from 1966 with recipes written on the back tucked into various pages. Thankfully, there in the section on fruited cakes was the recipe for the applesauce cake.  I wasn’t sure if it was exactly the same, but it was close to do my ingredient check.

After many prayers to St. Anthony, my copy of the cookbook appeared, but that’s a whole other story!  I opened the books up to compare recipes, and they were almost exactly alike. The “newer” 1979 version had baking powder, while the 1950 version did not. But what really had me chuckling were the specific directions in the 1950 version.  First, make thick unsweetened Applesauce. What, no dumping in a jar of Musselman’s?!? Bake at 350 (mod. oven). What exactly is a mod oven? I am guessing they didn’t mean convection bake! While I think that my baking is an act of love, the women of the 50’s and 60’s really had to love their families to go through all the preparation it took back then.

I had fun sifting through the pages of my mom’s cookbook, seeing her handwriting, and wondering if she ever really tried those recipes out on us. It made me feel connected to her even though she is no longer with me to celebrate Thanksgiving.