I looked up from my paper. Without making a sound, our teacher, Sister Mary Florence was walking slowly up one row and down the next. All 48 children sat still at their desks, silent as mice when the cat is about. Outside, the wind moaned subdued complaints as it swirled through the playground. The bank of windows which ran the length of our fourth grade classroom creaked as the wind push against them. The radiators below, whispered, ‘click, click, click’ as warm water from the school’s boiler room flowed through the pipes. Continue reading
Inconvenienced
Arnie stepped into our mobile home amid a swirl of blustery November wind. My husband of seven months hugged and kissed me. His coat felt cold and smelled of the outdoors. His new mustache tickled my lip. He said, “I’m taking a shower before we sit down to eat.”
I nodded, stepped into the kitchen and began to set the table. From the window, I could see a few snow flurries falling to our still bare lawn and childishly wished for more to fall.
From the bathroom down the hall, I heard the water in the shower splashing. An intense feeling of cozy happiness washed over me. I was in a warm house. The man I loved was home and showering. I had food baking in the oven along with a surprise dessert. I was making my very first pumpkin pie.
Arnie’s shower must have moisturized the air in our house because the windows were slightly steamy by the time he returned to the kitchen. The pie was cooling on the counter. For some reason it didn’t look like Mom’s pumpkin pies. It was dark in color and the surface wasn’t smooth.
When it came time for me to cut the pie, I tasted it before giving any to my new husband. It tasted like mud! Dismayed and disappointed, I shoved it to the backside of the kitchen counter. What had I done wrong? Continue reading
Spiritual Shower
The night sky was bright with a large spring-planting-time moon. No lights were on in my house. As I drove into our small detached garage, I pictured Arnie, Niki and Tammie sound asleep in their beds. Earlier in the evening when Mom called to tell me that Daddy had died, I didn’t want to disturb my sleeping five and one year old so my husband stayed home with them.
At 31 years of age, my only experience with death had been the loss of a two month old baby twelve years earlier. That loss seemed like a long time ago and as though it had happened to someone else.
The May night was balmy without a hint of chill. As I stepped out of the garage an instinct prompted me to look up. Swooping down above my head was a huge horned owl. I watched as it glided silently up again though the night air to the roof top. Landing on the chimney, it hooted three times. I felt Daddy’s presence. Continue reading
Retired, but not Tired
After studying my foot X-rays, the young doctor said, “Your feet are in bad shape. You have arthritis in every joint. Some of the joints have worn down to bone-on-bone.”
I frowned and said, “Ah…I see.” As strange as it may sound, although what I was told wasn’t a good thing, I felt a sense of relief. My pain had just been validated. I thought, “I’m not just being a big baby when I whine about my feet hurting! There is a true, physical reason for the pain.”
Some days my feet feel good, but there are other days where they hurt. That led me to think there was nothing seriously wrong with them. In my mind I figured that major problems like joints wore down to bone-on-bone would hurt all of the time. Evidently I was wrong. Continue reading
Salvation Tree
Huge tables covered with petunias enchanted me. Bowers of begonias beckoned for attention. Golden marigolds nodded modestly in the spring breeze. All the flowers looked beautiful, but something held me back from buying. I wandered to the backside of the nursery area where a line of potted trees caught my eye.
I thought of the ancient trees along the driveway in my yard at home. It would be nice if I had a young tree growing when it was time for the old trees to come down. The tag on a healthy little maple tree about my height proclaimed, “Sunset Maple. This tree will give you a bright splash of color in your yard every fall.”
Visiting temporary plant nurseries that pop up at local stores each spring is fun. A quick detour while buying a new tube of toothpaste often results in having beautiful flowers to plant at my back door. Special treats like these are enjoyed an entire summer.
The day I bought the maple tree, I didn’t know what I was looking for, but knew that when I saw it, I NEEDED a maple tree to brighten my yard. Continue reading
Unidentified Party Guest
When the doorbell rang, I glanced around the room and counted. I had a clown, belly dancer, hobo, large mouse, a gypsy and Carmen Miranda. All of our invited guests were present. Who could be at the back door? Assigning my twelve-year-old daughter the job of passing glasses of vile-looking green punch to our guests, I went to see.
Standing on the deck at my back door was an old woman dressed in a long, colorful skirt and shawls. She stood so hunched over a black cane, it was hard to see her face. Despite that, I was able to tell that her long nose and wrinkles were soft rubbery plastic. Wisps of gray hair stuck out from under the babushka that she wore on her head. She spoke no words, but motioned to indicate she desired to enter my house.
Mesmerized by this mysterious stranger and sensing only benevolence radiating from her, I stepped aside. The unidentified party guest (UPG) hobbled into the dining room. My two daughters and our guests all fell silent. After greeting each costumed child with a one-armed hug and motions to indicate her approval of them, our UPG finally retired to a chair in the corner of the room. Continue reading
Sauerkraut Dreams
Every time I woke during the night I wondered, “When I get up and look, will there be a long trickle of juice running away from the garbage can in the basement?” Behind my closed eyes I remembered mounds of crisp, white shreds of cabbage. The day before I’d had an intimate encounter with two hundred twenty five pounds of the cruciferous vegetable.
My daughter and I make a large batch of sauerkraut every other year. We slip extremely large, food-grade bags into a large metal garbage can especially purchased for this purpose. The fluid that forms when the cabbage is salted and pressed down allows fermentation to take place. Each year I fret and worry that a plastic bag leak could ruin an entire batch. Continue reading
October Wedding
Bright afternoon sunshine slanted down through colorful fall foliage, blinding me for a moment. I impatiently pulled down the sun visor. Spotting a place to park directly in front of the school door, I swiftly pulled into the space and immediately jumped out of my vehicle. I had a dozen errands to run that afternoon and I intended to get every single one done as quickly as possible.
Next to the school door was a huge planter filled with salvias. The plants were tall and ablaze with vibrant red blossoms. I skidded to a stop. My feeling of being rushed and overburdened fell away, replaced by a sweet childhood memory filled with nostalgia and a sense of timelessness.
Fall was a season of celebration when I was a child. Red, yellow and orange trees were flames of joy, announcing that the bounty of summer was ready to be harvested. Mom and my siblings gathered apples from the orchard and made them into apple sauce and pies. Daddy spent warm days and cool nights in the corn fields making silage so the cows had more than hay to eat during the winter. Continue reading
Needing a Baby Fix
Even though my baby was in the car with me now after work, I felt frantic with anxiety. Everything felt off kilter. I hadn’t been able to cuddle Niki all day and my body ached with longing. Pulling to a stop in my driveway, I scrambled out from behind the wheel and opened the car’s back door. My six-week-old daughter contentedly gave me a big smile as I unbuckled her from the car seat. I scooped her into my arms and rushed into the house.
In the living room I sank down in my rocking chair and lifted her out of the blankets. Peace and calm settled over me the minute I put her against my left shoulder. She happily nuzzled my neck as our heart beats become one. I sighed with relief. Continue reading
Widow’s Supper
Widow’s Supper
I silently opened my back door and stepped in. The rich, delicious smell of roast beef filled the air. Stopping a moment to enjoy the scent of home and family, I glanced around. There were fourteen shoes of varying sizes scattered about on the long entryway rug.
Stepping over and around the shoes, I slowly opened the dining room door, thinking that perhaps I’d surprise my grandchildren. I found two-year-old Gemma standing near the table, looking at a small plastic figurine in her hand. Seeing me didn’t seem to surprise her. I guessed she expected me to be there and so there I was. She came for a hug. Continue reading
Life Lines 