​I’ve seen a few versions of this structure from different slicers, so I decided to give it a try: 5 bulleted ideas to help recall the week or tell about yourself. I started by listing everything I could think of that I did during the week – people I saw, things I ate, quotes I found, activities, wonders, wishes. I borrowed some of the categories from other slicers, then made up some of my own based on what I wanted to include. Turns out each one could probably be expanded into a slice or small moment story, so it might be fun to try with students who are stuck for ideas.
 
Something I Did for Fun: The weather was so beautiful mid-week that while I was out doing errands I made an impromptu purchase: two bunches of miniature irises to welcome spring.
 
Best Thing I Ate: Chicken and spinach enchiladas at Plaza Azteca. I was with two good friends, so the pleasant company added to the experience.
 
Favorite Quote of the Week: “Time spent on powerful stories is time well spent.” This quote comes from a post by Katie Egan Cunningham on the Stenhouse blog.
 
Wonder of the Week: I wonder why the GPS in my car is suddenly giving me problems.
 
Something I’m Looking Forward To: A visit from both my daughter, and my son and his wife this weekend. We haven’t all been together since Christmas, so this will be a treat.

​Did you ever notice the difference in doctors’ waiting rooms? Some are adequate with straight backed chairs and a decent supply of reading material, some are stark and cold with old, uninteresting magazines thrown haphazardly on an end table. Then there are those that invite you in and encourage relaxation, like the waiting room of my dermatologist.
 
When you open the door you might hear soft music playing. You are greeted by a smiling receptionist who takes your information and asks you to make yourself comfortable. The doctor will be with you shortly. The wainscoted walls are wallpapered in a soft paisley print; the plush carpet complements it well. Just the right number of framed wall paintings have been hung with care. They are of landscapes or deserted beaches with soft hues that are easy on the eyes. Two tastefully upholstered wing back chairs line one short wall. Between them is a basket of reading material. Another basket holds some toys for children (or maybe grown-ups). Benches and other chairs of varying types and sizes round out the rest of the seating, placed strategically throughout the room. When you are called in by the nurse, you almost hate to leave.
 
In most doctor’s offices there is almost always waiting time, sometimes a lot. So why not be comfortable? 

I attend a class at the Y once or twice a week called Healthy Back. You may have remembered that I wrote about it here last month. The first hour of the class is spent in the deep end of the pool, then we move to the shallow end for “floor” exercises. We move from one side of the pool to the other in different ways – tightrope walking, on tiptoes, gliding, sideways, with leg lifts, etc.
 
What is unique to this class is that the exercises are performed while singing. Yes, singing. We sing folk songs, show tunes, old classics - think “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain,” “I’ve Been Workin’ on the Railroad,” “Oh Give Me a Home Where the Buffalo Roam,” “Eidelweiss,” “Happy Talk”, “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy.”  (Depending on your age, you either started to hum while reading that last sentence or stared at the words with a questioning look.)  What surprised me the most wasn’t the songs, but the fact that I knew the words! Where did that come from, I wondered? Perhaps some I learned in school or at home, but when we started in on “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning,” I knew. Suddenly I was ten years old, sitting on the front porch of my house, swinging back and forth on an old glider with my best friend Ruthie…and we were singing.
 
Ruthie was full of life and it was hard not to copy her carefree ways. We shared a love of paper dolls, jacks, and orange creamsicles. She taught me how to ride a two wheeler, play pick-up-sticks, and sing with all my heart.  Since her family lived in the other side of the twin row house where I lived, we were together from sunup to sundown in the summer.
 
Singing with all your heart…maybe that’s the key to a healthy life.

​Longwood Gardens is a beautiful botanical garden not far from my home created by Pierre du Pont in the early 1900’s. When I retired, one of my goals was to volunteer there, and last week I became official, although I still have quite a bit of training and learning to do.
 
Did you know that the current children’s garden was completed in 2007, tripling the size of the original that was built in 1987?
 
The gardens rely on the hundreds of volunteers who operate in different capacities. I was lucky enough to get chosen to work in the Children’s Garden. At my first training on Saturday I received the Children’s Garden Team Manual and my official badge pictured above. If you read the little paragraph on the label you will see why I am so excited. To “cultivate curiosity” in children and help them discover their world is what we do as teachers, so hopefully it will be a natural process for me.
 
Did you know that epiphytes are plants that live on the surface of other plants and that orchids are epiphytes?
 
There are quite a few puppets housed in the Children’s Garden, so one of our first activities at the training was to choose a puppet, partner with someone, and talk to each other through the puppets, more or less taking on their persona. I chose Mouse, a cute little finger puppet. As I looked around, I could clearly see that not everyone was comfortable with this task, including my partner. Everything would have been fine had she not told me, in no uncertain words, before we even started, that she hated mice and had even killed a few who ventured into her house during the winter. Okay, now what? So I decided Mouse would be extremely shy and would only whisper responses or comments in my ear. She and I managed to talk a little bit (she had a butterfly puppet), but when it came time to share, she reiterated to the entire group her hatred of mice. So Mouse quietly whispered words of forgiveness in my ear which I relayed to my partner, at which point she said that she wouldn’t hesitate to kill again!  Did someone forget to tell her this was play?? I’m thinking puppet experiences with kids will be a lot easier!
 
Did you know that there are more than 20,000 varieties of orchids found in the rainforest?
 
I’m looking forward to sharing the wonder and magic of this special place very soon!

​I went. Usually I avoid grocery shopping on the weekends, but yesterday, that could not be helped - the cupboards were bare! As I started through the produce section, I noticed an unusual number of men with children – toddlers in seats chewing on a snack, some a little older with one hand on the cart helping to steer, others a few feet ahead scouting out the next buy. In fact, I’m sure the men with children outnumbered the women with children on this particular Sunday morning.
 
I watched. And what I noticed right away was that these men were experienced and knowledgeable shoppers. No quick list from their wives with a few requests scribbled down here. They knew what the family liked and needed. I watched as they smelled and squeezed melons, lifted the strawberry containers to make sure the ones on the bottom were as fresh as the ones on the top, and carefully picked out just the right bag of grapes. Occasionally I heard a few of them greet each other and exchange a few words about the weekend soccer game, but there was no standing around engaging in lengthy conversation. They were there to get a job done. I was so intrigued that I did a couple of turns through produce just so I could continue to observe. (ATTENTION!!! STALKER IN AISLE 2!!!)
 
I wondered. Where was mom? Enjoying a quiet Sunday morning alone reading? Maybe, but more likely she was at home attending to other household chores like laundry and cleaning, often delegated to the weekend in the midst of busy lives.
 
Families. It takes everyone working together to live and grow and thrive.

​When I was growing up in Harrisburg, PA, the family-run DeAngelis Restaurant in Hershey was a well-known spot for a good Italian meal with the best red sauce in the area. Last night I had the opportunity to dine there once again before attending a fund raiser hockey game. DeAngelis’ has changed hands and is now called Fenicci’s, but it holds a special place in my memory.
 
In the 50’s… February brought the Ice Capades show to the Hershey arena. My family would have dinner at DeAngelis’ before heading over to a show. My father played in the pit orchestra to supplement his teaching salary, and he always treated my sister and me to one of the performances (along with a great dinner).
 
In the 60’s… my boyfriend invited me to dinner at DeAngelis’. It was during a time when we were on the back side of a slight break in our relationship. I don’t remember much of the particulars of that night, but I’m sure there was probably more unsaid than said at the table that night – two teenagers trying to find themselves, wanting the same, yet different things from life.
 
In the 70’s… one weekend I brought home a different boyfriend to get to know my parents better. They sensed that this was a more serious relationship and wanted to make sure he had a good time. A trip to DeAngelis’ followed by a hockey game seemed right. I guess it worked. I’ve been married to Allan for almost thirty-nine years.
 
In the 80’s, my sister married into the DeAngelis family. By this time the restaurant was changing hands, but the recipe for the sauce remained in the family.
 
As I walked into the restaurant last night I had to search for the memories – the neighborhood is built up and the room looked different - but the menu clearly states that they still use the DeAngelis family sauce. And it was delicious!

To some it’s the announcement that spring training is starting; to others it’s seeing those first few daffodil shoots begin to emerge from their winter slumber. But to me, I know it’s almost spring when the bluebirds return to nest in my yard.
 
The other day I noticed some activity at one of the birdhouses – some quick movements with flashes of blue – and I knew. I quickly retrieved the half box of dried mealworms I had saved, set them out in the feeder by the window, and waited. I made sure I was just far enough away so as not to intrude. I didn’t have to wait long. Soon there was one, then two friends hungrily filling their beaks. I was filled with wonder as I watched, wishing I were a better poet.
 

Bluebird at my window
Welcome home, my friend.
I’ve been waiting,
Wondering
When you will return.
 
Bluebird at my window
I’m curious –
Where’s your mate?
Here she comes, I see her now
Lighting on the sill.
 
Bluebird at my window
Welcome home, my friend.
You fill my soul
With peace and joy –
A welcome sign of spring.

Yesterday I was working in a first grade class during writing workshop. Connie, the teacher, explained that the class had been doing a lot of writing, but she needed some help with conferencing.
 
“Great!” I said, although I was really thinking Oh, no! Conferencing is one of those hard parts of writing workshop that I think takes a lot of practice, and I have to admit I was feeling a little rusty. Connie explained to her writers that she wanted each of them to choose a piece of writing that wasn’t yet finished and to jot down on a post it what it was they needed help with. While this was going on, I had a chance to jot down some standard phrases in my notebook, just as a reminder:
How can I help?
Praise-Ponder-Polish
Tell me what you are going to do.
What will you work on next?
I hoped I would know what to say to help these young writers.
 
First up for me was Hunter who came to the table with a large volume of Dr. Seuss stories (really, he could barely lift it) in addition to his writing. He was writing facts about Dr. Seuss, and the post-it said he wanted help with “bold beginnings” and interesting facts.” When I looked at his work I noticed he was trying to copy the reference information at the end of the book, thinking that it was a listing of facts. I explained to him that what he was looking at was information that told where and when each story was made. Hunter looked disappointed. Clearly, not the interesting facts he was looking for. Luckily, I had noticed that some of the references were photo credits, so I flipped to the front pages and discovered that the collection opened with biographical information on Dr. Seuss, complete with pictures. Yes!   
 
“Hunter, I think I can show you how to find some interesting facts about Dr. Seuss. Would you like me to show you?” I asked.
“Sure,” he replied.
 
I pointed to a picture of Ted Geisel as a young man with two small children. We talked about the picture and I explained that one of his facts might be that Dr. Seuss had two children, a boy and a girl. Then we looked at a picture of the author as a young boy proudly holding a fish at the end of a rod.
 
“What can you tell me about this picture?” I asked.
“I think he liked to go fishing,” said Hunter. “And look at this one. I think he was in the Army! And I could say that his real name was Ted.”
“How did you know that?” I questioned.
“I can read some of those words,” Hunter replied, pointing to a caption.
 
We talked some more, and at the end of the conference I asked Hunter what he learned. “I learned I can find facts in the pictures,” he said with a smile.
 
Thanks to Hunter and his confidence and knowledge of himself as a writer, it was a good beginning for me, maybe even a bold one.

​Last week we took a short getaway to Williamsburg, VA. We wanted to see how our dog, Cyrus, did on a longer trip. We just didn’t want to leave him behind again, and were more or less testing the waters of traveling with Cyrus. So we found a pet friendly hotel that would accept him and we were off. Cyrus did well on the trip down (about 4 ½ hours). He rested in his bed, observed the passing scenery, and every once in a while checked in with us. Everything was going fairly well until the first night.
 
I woke to a small whimper near my side of the bed. With one eye open I could just barely see him in the dark – furry, black head, open panting mouth, wagging tail. It was his usual signal that it was time to get up. Figuring it was about 6:30 (his customary waking hour), I complied. As I was feeling my way to the bathroom, my one open eye caught a glimpse of the digital clock. 4:43 it reported in big red numbers! Oh, well, we were up! I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my jacket, hooked the leash, and we were out the door leaving my sleeping husband behind.
 
Sights and sounds and smells are so different in an unfamiliar environment. At first I wasn’t sure which way to go, so I let Cyrus take the lead. We walked over to a small wooded area where there must have been delicious ground smells, and I just looked and listened. A gentle rain was falling, making the bushes and trees glisten in the lamplight. A delivery truck sounded in the distance. It seemed peaceful. Within a few minutes we were back in bed, settling in for a few more hours of sleep.
 
I thought about the many times I have woken up in a strange place and wasn’t quite sure where I was. I think it was the same for Cyrus. He knew it wasn’t home and needed a little reassurance. I would have to say it was a successful trip and we were glad we brought him along, but he was definitely ready when it was finally time to go home. 

​Yesterday, since it was the first day of the SOL Challenge, a fellow slicer talked about “firsts” in his post. And that got me thinking. While it is true that many of the firsts in our lives probably happen when we are younger, there can be firsts for those of us in the winter years of life. I proved that to myself this week.
 
I’ve been taking a water therapy class at our local Y, trying to strengthen my back. I’m in the habit of putting on my bathing suit under my clothes to save time changing when I get there. On Monday, I was packing up my gym bag, making sure I had everything. Towel…check.
Coverup…check.
Sandals…check.
Hairbrush…check.
                                                       Ready! 
Or at least I thought so. I had that nagging feeling that I was forgetting something, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. So, I was out the door and on my way with just enough time to make it to the class.
 
About half way to the Y, as I was stopped at a red light, singing along to the music, it suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks … I had forgotten to pack my bra and underwear!
 
Oh, no! I thought. What now? I can’t drive home in a wet bathing suit wrapped in a towel!
 
At this point I figured I had two choices. One, I could turn around and go back to the house and retrieve the forgotten items. But that would make me late for the class. Or, I could just continue on my way, and at the end of the class, when it was time to change to go home….I could go commando. Granted, I’ve had my share of carefree-braless-college days, but not in a long time. And I never went without the bottoms.
 
And that is how I experienced another first in my life.