The Tree Might Grow in Brooklyn...

but it fell in my yard. I was out of school for Good Friday--and the beginning of our spring break--and was sitting at my dining room table using my laptop. I heard a crack, and looked up in time to see a large tree falling across my fence and into my yard. A small limb brushed across my storage building, but the top of the tree caught between two limbs of another tree.

We were having tornado-like weather at the time. We've had a lot of rain since the beginning of the year, and this follows several years of drought conditions. I've read that many trees are falling because the dryness caused the tree roots to loosen, and then the heavy rains have loosened the ground around the roots. When a strong wind comes along, the tree doesn't have the strength to stay in the ground.

My first thought was to call the neighbor who lives "behind" my house. I thought the tree was on his property, but had fallen into my yard. He was not home, and after I walked around the yard and thought about the situation, I realized that the tree belonged to me even though it was on the "outside" of my fence. When my husband arranged to have the yard fenced (when we were moving into the house), he put the fence about six feet inside the property line. That was because of the line of trees and bushes that were planted at the edge of our yard. It would have been an added expense to remove the foliage, and it provided a good blind on that side of the yard. My husband passed away just over two years ago, so he wasn't here to remind me what we'd done...

My next-door neighbor is a "tree man". He has cut down two other trees in my yard, and he'll probably handle this situation, too. I called my insurance agent Friday afternoon, but she's out of the office until Monday, and I think the cost of getting the tree down will probably be about the same as my deductible. The tree didn't cause any trouble with power lines, etc., and since it was "caught" by a fellow tree, it didn't hurt the fence on the other side of the yard. One of my husband's best friends came by and looked at it yesterday morning, and told me what I knew--I was very lucky: the tree didn't hurt anyone or anything more than my fence, I live next door to a man who can help me manage the situation, and there's no rush to get it down immediately.

I am having a DAR meeting at my house next Saturday, and I'd like for the tree to be out of the way by then, but it will be a great conversation piece. My husband's brother is the speaker for the meeting, and he's been trained in using a chain saw to remove debris from tornado-ravaged areas...wonder if I qualify?

The Elastic Was Almost Useless

My father-in-law's funeral was today. The visitation was from two o'clock until the funeral started at four o'clock. This was good for me, since we are giving standardized tests, and it is almost impossible for a teacher to be absent during test week. My planning period is the last period of the school day, and our school librarian took my last class so that I could leave school early and meet the family at the funeral home.

I went to visit my mother-in-law yesterday. She and I have been good friends since we first met, and we have in more in common now that we've both lost a husband. We are both practical and organized, and the first thing I asked her was if she had decided what she was going to wear. She had, and asked me if I thought a pants suit would be all right. I assured her that it would be fine, and did she know what shoes she planned to wear. She said she had picked out a pair that would be comfortable since she knew she'd have to stand and greet people as they came through to pay their condolences. I told her that since she was wearing pants and I was wearing a long skirt, we could wear knee high hose instead of pantyhose, and she agreed.

I carried my funeral clothes to school with me, and went to the ladies' restroom to change before leaving school. I had packed everything in my Mickey Mouse tote bag (teachers always have cute tote bags, and I've never met a tote bag I didn't like...), including my knee high hose. A voice inside my head told me to bring TWO pairs of knee highs, and it was a good thing that I listened to that voice...one of my knee highs ended up in the toilet (I'm not exactly sure how it happened...but it did), so I was glad for a spare. However, when I pulled on the knee highs, I realized that the elastic was not very good. I must have had the hose for longer than I thought, and apparently knee high elastic is not permanent in its elasticity.

I mingled with family and friends for the two hours before the service, and tried to be subtle as I checked on my hose to be sure they had not puddled around my ankles. I visited with my husband's best friend's widow, my elder stepson (who went through a painful divorce just after his father passed away), my mother-in-law's rather eccentric sister, and the minister who had conducted my husband's funeral. The service was lovely, and just the right length. My brother-in-law is a minister of music, and he had recorded two songs for his father's service. There were no graveside services, so we all met at my in-laws' church for an early dinner. I kept a check on my hose through it all, and did not have an ankle puddle until I was changing clothes in my bedroom.

The moral of the story? Knee high elastic is a small example of the greater philosophy--nothing lasts forever...

Peas in the Layered Salad

My father-in-law passed away late yesterday evening. He would have been eighty-one later this spring. His eldest son, my husband, passed away just over two years ago, and I think the loss of his son hastened his passing. In my husband's younger years, he had been a source of great tribulation to his parents, but shortly before he and I married (eleven years ago), he turned his life around and became a source of great pride to his parents.

I did not meet his parents until several months after we began dating. We were invited to eat lunch with them one Sunday after church. By then, we were engaged, and he had become a member of my church. We drove to their house after church, and sat down for the meal. His parents were very kind and gracious, and his mother had obviously worked to prepare a meal for us. She had made a layered salad, and one of the layers in a traditional layered salad includes green peas (also known as English peas).

I do not care for green peas, but will eat them if they are included in another dish. My future husband knew how I felt about the peas, so when the salad was passed to me, he was surprised when I put a helping of the salad onto my plate. He was a sweet man, but he could also be too blunt and outspoken on occasion...and this was one of those occasions. He looked at me and asked if I was going to eat some of the salad. I said that I was, and then he said that if he were me, he wouldn't eat any of the salad. I tried to communicate to him--without speaking--that he should hush and let me eat the salad! We were sitting across the table from each other, which prevented me from kicking him under the table. Of course, being the person he was, he probably would have asked me why I was kicking him!

The meal turned out well in spite of everything, and I remained close to both his parents after my husband's death. Until my father-in-law became too weak to stand and/or walk, he always greeted me with a hug and a kiss, and told me that he loved me. His memory began to fail even more rapidly after my husband's death, and he frequently asked his wife if my husband was really gone. My prayers for his healing were answered yesterday...and I am sure that my husband was standing at Jesus's side when my father-in-law was welcomed into heaven. He probably said "Hey, Pop! Let's go see Nana and Papa! We've all been waiting for you to get here!"

Trip to Seattle: Day 2, Part 1

I kept my watch on Central Time, but since my cell phone switched automatically, I used it as my primary time-keeping device while in Seattle/Issaquah. I got up and worked in my travel journal a little, then got ready and went down to the dining room to eat breakfast. After eating, I took my map and headed into Seattle. I had thought I would get on the GreyLine tour bus, but parking was the biggest deterrent to that plan. I drove through downtown Seattle, and even crossed the Magnolia Bridge into another section of town. I passed the Pike Street Market, the stadium, the Space Needle, and came within a half block or so of the waterfront area. I inherited my father's sense of direction (and love of following a map!), so I was able to maneuver through the maze of one-way streets. I found a parking lot in the Pioneer Square shopping area (and paid for my parking with my debit card...I felt so cosmopolitan!), and wandered around for about two hours.

I went to the Elliott Bay Book Company, and ate lunch at the coffee shop/cafe located in the basement. I had a "sunshine salad", and it was delicious. I carried my journal with me, and worked on it while eating my lunch. I walked around after lunch, and spotted a clog store across the street. I looked at the shoes, but decided that I didn't need any additional weight added to my luggage (and I think I still had those Privo shoes in my mind from Belk's, but that's a whole other story). I found a Starbucks (what a surprise) and had a Caramel Light and a pastry. I worked in my journal while I ate and drank, and then it was about time to get back to the parking lot.

I drove back to Issaquah without incident, and followed my directions out to the Moores' house. I then drove around town for a while, and found the Costco warehouse store. I'm not a member, and had no interest in shopping there, but since the headquarters is there, it was of moderate interest. I went back to the Holiday Inn and rested (and played in my journal) until it was time to leave for the workshop.

This time the house was marked with a sign, so I was sure of the location. The Moores' house is very unassuming; it is located in a "compound", with Tracy's parents living next door, and the family business (fire protection equipment and services) located in the same area. The house is probably smaller than my house (which is 1900 square feet or so), but the studio is huge. It is two stories, and resembles a garage apartment. There's a covered patio area in front, with a hot tub. There's a larger uncovered patio area, with a couple of tables (and a deck attached to the house). The top floor of the studio is more Teesha's area, and the first floor is Tracy's, and the inventory for their online business. There were tables and lights set up upstairs and downstairs; I chose to sit at the table nearest the outside area, so I got inside and outside light on my work.

Trip to Seattle: Day One, Part 2

We landed in Seattle without incident. I followed the signs to the baggage carousel, and got my bag off with the help of a fellow traveler. I dragged everything to the car rental counter, and picked up my car. When I handed my driver's license to the woman at the counter, she looked at my address and said that she understood why I had that lovely accent! She then asked if I ever watched that show on the Food Network. I knew that she probably meant the Paula Deen show, and I was right. She also said that she'd been to either Georgia or Alabama as a small child, and her strongest memory was of the fried chicken, biscuits, and gravy that she was served for breakfast. I laughed and told her it sounded like a Georgia breakfast to me. Her boss marked a map for me in addition to verbal directions, and even walked me to the car rental section of the parking garage (I think he was going that way anyway, but it made me feel better).

The car was a Hyundai Sonata, and it was great. I did have some trouble trying to unlock the trunk...I kept looking for a place to put the key, and couldn't find one. I then couldn't find a way to pop the trunk from the driver's side of the car, so I put my bags into the back seat and pulled out the car's manual. There's NOT a place for the key in the back, and the lever to pop the trunk is on the driver's side door!

I headed out of the terminal, and found my interstate. Between the Hertz directions and my own internet directions, I found Issaquah and the Holiday Inn without incident. The only glitch with the hotel is the fact that it had NO elevator! I lugged my two bags around the lobby until an employee spotted me and offered assistance. I declined the offer of help with the luggage and lugged them up the stairs on my own. I also made a mental note to either get help when I checked out or take them down one at a time. I freshened up and decided to eat dinner in the hotel dining room. The food and the service were both good, and the tea was especially good. I kept asking for unsweetened ice tea, but I think that's the way it's served in most places outside of the South...maybe that's why I kept getting odd looks.

The two-hour time difference was a little odd. I followed in my father's footsteps and read the telephone directory, discovering that Barnes & Noble was one street over from the hotel. I headed out around 6:30 p.m. PDST, which was 8:30 to my body. I bought a couple of magazines, and drove around a little before heading back to the hotel. I watched a little television, and headed to bed.

Trip to Seattle: Day One, Part 1

I left on Thursday, August 14, for a trip to Issaquah, Washington. I signed up for a journaling workshop--taught by Teesha and Tracy Moore at their home studio--and it started on Friday evening. I went a day early so I wouldn't be worn out from traveling, and so I had time to drive around and look at the scenery. I had not flown since November/December, 1997, so I was a little apprehensive about the security checks and the horror stories I've heard about delayed flights.

The nearest airport is in Birmingham, Alabama, and my flight was scheduled to leave at 10:40 a.m. By 9:30 a.m., I had parked in long-term parking, checked my bag, gone through security, and was sitting at my gate waiting to board. The security check went fine...even with the shoe check and the search of my purse because of the bottle of contact lense solution. Contact lense solution is exempt from the three-ounce rule, and my bottle was less than three-ounces anyway, but I understood--since you can't tell it's contact lense solution through the x-ray scanning machine. We boarded on time and took off a few minutes early. There were only two of us in the three-seat row, and I was eavesdropping on my seatmate's phone conversation. She was talking to someone about genealogy computer programs, and that gave me a opening for a conversation. She was a lovely woman, and we chatted about genealogy and crafts for most of the hour-long flight to Dallas.

I changed concourses and gates successfully in Dallas, and ate a sandwich from a restaurant near my gate. There was a couple waiting to board a plane, and the wife became very agitated when she learned that she was occupying the middle seat of a three-seat row. She was not a small woman, and she knew she'd be crowded. The more she talked, the more sure I became that we'd probably be in the same row...I'm not a small woman, either. Their group boarded before my group, and as I walked down the aisle toward my seat, I saw them...waiting in my row. I tried to be still and quiet for the entire four-hour flight, reading my magazines and listening to my MP-3 player!

It Was a LONG Two Weeks...

but it's finally finished! I attended a two-week teacher training sponsored by the inservice center at a nearby university...and required by my local system. I will get a stipend ($100/day), and a box full of teaching materials and tools for my classroom; the stipend will pay for my trip next month to a Teesha Moore journaling workshop! Well, it will pay for MOST of my trip, and the rest will be a gift to me from me. I am very excited...it is in Washington (state) and I've never traveled that far away in the United States (I went to Germany almost eleven years ago). I am traveling alone, which makes me a little nervous...but NOT nervous enough to skip the trip! The workshop starts on a Friday evening, and I'm arriving on Thursday evening so I'll have some time to look around, and take lots of pictures. I have already booked all my reservations, so now I need to hunt up my "big" suitcase and start making lists. I think the suitcase is in the attic, stored there after our move a couple of years ago, but that will mean a trip up that pull-down ladder...hmmm...

The workshop was interesting, even though I didn't learn a lot of new teaching techniques. I have been teaching the same grade and subject for all but one semester of my long (32.5 years) teaching career, and I have always worked for principals who expected excellence from their teaching staff. I have been blessed to have supportive principals who allowed us a great deal of input, as long as we were able to justify our decisions and back them up with research data and the resulting student successes (on standardized tests and in higher math classes). I did pick up several new technology "tricks", and received some positive feedback and encouragement from younger teachers, who seemed to value my ideas and opinions. I spent time with four of my favorite colleagues, and got to get better acquainted with a relative newcomer to our staff. In addition to the stipend, I received enough continuing education credits to assure the renewal of my certificate, which should be due for renewal one year after my planned retirement date.

My great-niece is coming tomorrow to stay with me until Wednesday. Her parents are in the midst of relocating so that her mother (my niece) can do a required internship for her doctorate, and the baby (all right, she's two, so she's on her way to being a big girl) will stay with me, her maternal grandmother, and her paternal grandparents while Mommy and Daddy get the new house ready. Let's see...we'll go out for breakfast, go up to my sister's (her grandmother) in the evenings to swim in Grammy's pool, go to Blockbuster and get a new Elmo video (and maybe a Blues or Barney video...I prefer Blues) to watch before bedtime, ride in her wagon, and see if she's finally big enough for her tricycle. What a nice way to end my summer vacation...