Tomorrow is 11….

Eleven more days of school for my school kids,and for me.

Will I miss it? Absolutely! I am hoping that I will be able to be assigned to the same class again, or at least the same school. The experiences I have had working with the autistic and Aspergers students have really been an experience. I love it.I feel as though I am making a useful application to my life.
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Don’t get me wrong:I am going to savor every second of the summer.Truly I am. But I actually admit that I’m looking forward to September.

April Fools Day

It makes me really miss my Mom, as no matter how old I got, she always tried to celebrate April Fools Day with a little prank.

For instance, when I was in grammar school, I’d come down the steps wearing my school uniform, and walk into the kitchen where she was making breakfast.We would start talking and she’d say, in the course of conversation, “Get upstairs and change-what is that on your uniform?” Oh my God? A stained, ripped or torn uniform or uniform blouse? I’d yell where and she’d go to show me…followed by”April Fool!”

I miss those days and Mom.

Hey Mom? “What’s that on your halo?”.. Lol..I love you and miss you every day, and that’s no April Fool!

  

Wiped Out

Today, for the first time, I had the pre-kindergarten children and I am so exhausted I am typing this from my phone before I go in to take a hot shower and go to bed .

As I am currently 56 years old, I can’t seem to think back son 51 years, but I know my childhood had nothing in common with what I had experienced today. Don’t get me wrong: I’ll take the younger children any day of the week.The kids today seem to have no joy in their play. Everything has a purpose.

It is good to be an old geezer.

  

Little Red Bucket

I have a treasured memory that I managed to save from my Mom.

  
I remember this bucket from childhood.

What’s so special about it?

It’s my Mom’s clothespin bucket.

I can remember as a toddler being in the back yard of Mitchell Street, with the clothesline hung and Mom carrying up the laundry from the cellar steps.It is how I got my first job for Mom. I stood next to her and was allowed to hand her a clothespin when she asked for it. Sure, I worked my way up to hanging handkerchiefs, hanging straight sheets, and later  fitted sheets.

I don’t remember when the bucket list its’handle, but every time the bucket is next to me in the yard, I can feel Mom in her house dress and her kerchief wrapped around her head.It is kind of bizarre to say you feel warmth from a bucket of clothes pins, but I do.

Thanks, Mom.

Old Softie

People get disappointed in life a lot. It happens, I know.

I am one of those people who try to help those who need help,and as a result, I have my fur girls and am an old softie. I was on my back deck earlier in the week and saw one of my pink geraniums there, not quite hit by frost yet,and to my surprise, it was tightly in bud. How can I leave it outside to die?

I really wish I had a built out window where I could put plants and grow herbs in the house, but we have no room.I remember my Mom’s mom, my Babci on East street, raising lambs tounges plants and African violets, as did my Mom and godmother.I am currently trying to nurse my Mom’s last  pointsettia, as it is,along with her Aloe plant, my last tie with Mom.

Call me old Softie…I am proud of it. Below is a shot of my saved geranium.

 

Fall

  
I could never live in Florida, or any place where leaf color changes never occur.

I was the type of kid who, in grammar school, always went for the forest scenes on folders. Be it leafy, verdant green forests, or trees ablaze in their autumnal coats, you could have made book on the choice I’d make.

Being older now, raking becomes part of the season and my admiration for the colors never fades.

After all, there is always the promise of spring to wait for!

 

Seventeen

I was one of those fortunate girls.

I loved my Dad and he loved me. Don’t get me wrong- he loved all of us, but Dad and I were buddies. My brothers weren’t really into actively following sports, so he was happy when he found a willing disciple in me. We spent a lot of good times together. At the bottom of this blog post, I have a picture of Dad in the car when we were at Penn State for a game.

It’s seventeen years ago today that I lost my Dad. I remember,in many of our talks, how he would tell me about life after he would be gone. I believed him and always kept it in my head. You only have one Dad and no amount of time can replace the hole left behind in your heart when he leaves.He didn’t tell me that, but it’s what I learned.

Miss you terribly,Dad, and will love you forever. Kiss Mom for me.