Slice of Life- A Break in the Conversation

 On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

 

By the time the six of us sat down for breakfast, it was 9:30. For some people, that could seem about the perfect time to eat your eggs, but for my family, that's late. And we had already woken up at 4:30 to get to a special sunrise that was over an hour's drive. We had already huddled together on a mountaintop watching the kaleidoscope of clouds and the growing glow over the mountains. We'd even already completed a hike, exploring the inside of the crater as the sun rose over it. 

And we'd lived through the winding drive both up to the summit and back down. 

                                            (Just a snapshot of the long and windy road!)

We were ready for food, and we were at a breakfast place that Julia, the morning planner, assured us would be one of the best we'd have. 

"What would you recommend?" Julia asked the waitress. 

"Anything you like," she said, dodging the decision. "Everything is good."

As we waited, we checked out the desserts available next to the cash register. Chocolate lava cake, lemon squares, passion fruit tarts. Coconut cream pie, oatmeal cookie sandwiches, and guava cheesecake... These became the talk of the table as we waited for our pancakes and eggs to arrive. 

"Everyone pick the two they would want to take home," Larkin said. "But don't say them. We'll try to guess."

We'd gotten through three of us when breakfast arrived. The waitress and Julia were right... everything was good and it was one of the best we'd ever had. 

After a few bites, my husband tried to restart the dessert game. "What ones would Clare choose?" he asked. 

Almost at the same time, but with various levels of emphasis, we let him know that the game was on hold. The forks were barely big enough to shovel this incredible food into our mouths, let alone consider slowing down for a conversation. He'd have to wait for the clean plate club to learn about dessert choices! 

Slice of Life- One Little Word for 2025

On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

 

I had decided on a different word for 2025 way back in August, and, to be honest, I've even thought about it i combination with my current word which is "time". However, as the year draws to a close, I'm have a last-minute change, something I can't remember ever having done before. 

This year will be the 12th year of my practice of choosing one word to keep as a focus, and I love the history of my words. I could still explain the rationale and the impacts of each word as I think back. I've said this before, and I'll say it again... my favorite words have been the ones with a double meaning. Words that can serve as multiple parts of speech. Words that require context to reveal their meaning. Words that are both simple and complex. 

Time has been a great choice for the last twelve months. This word has inspired me to think about how I spend and manage the gift of it. I'd recommend it as a choice to anyone.

January of 2025 is going to launch a season of healing for me. While I don't have life-threatening issues, I have a couple of surgeries to get through including a long-awaited knee replacement. I'm looking forward to looking back on it, for sure, and my focus will be on healing for myself. I also have some close friends in my life who are facing surgeries and treatments. My OLW encompasses the positive thinking I'll be sending their way throughout the year. 

And so, for 2025, my OLW is heal. Physical, spiritual, and any other kind of healing that's needed throughout the year. 

Slice of Life- The Missing Fireplace Remote

 

On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

We finished playing a competitive game of spades last night, and all four of us were ready to head for bed. The game had taken long since Garth and Larkin failed to cover their final bet, and Clare and I took too many bags.... stories for another time. 

"Where's the fireplace remote?" Garth asked. 

"Clare turned it on," Larkin was quick to respond. 

"I've only been in this one area," Clare said. 

The four of us looked around. No remote. 

The four of us looked under sofa pillows. No remote. 

The four of us looked under the sofa. No. Remote. 

"Where else did you go?" Garth asked. 

Clare's response was a little snappy. 

Larkin and Clare systematically removed the cushions of the sofa. At least I had recently vacuumed under there so I didn't have to cringe at all the dirt, dog hair, and other debris that makes its way under those cushions. 

But still no remote. 

Garth and Clare were both snappy at this point. 

"Can't you just turn it off by hand?" Clare asked. 

"I would have done that by now," Garth said. 

Larkin and I both cracked up when she commented on how she knew exactly what to do in order to make this family neurotic. (Readers are welcome to try a hide-the-remote game in their house and report back on how it goes...)

On the remote (pun intended) chance that Clare had gone upstairs between the lighting and losing process, I headed upstairs to continue a house scan. My search was interrupted by victory screams downstairs. 

The remote was located in the games cabinet since Larkin had put away the pile of games that had been out, balancing them so carefully that the remote stayed right on top of the pile. 

Out went the fire, and up we all went to beds. 

And yes, I know exactly how to prank this family! 

Slice of Life: No Worries

On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

 

Frank looked at me in surprise when I suggested that we meet in the room at 8 am for our 8:15 presentation. The six of us were at dinner going over last minute details of our long-anticipated presentation, and the anxiety was a little high since it was finally going to happen. 

"Don't you think we should get there earilier?"  he asked. 

I think I shrugged. I wake up early, so early was fine with me. We all agreed on 7:30 am. The five of them were staying at a different hotel from me, so we'd meet in the morning. 

In the morning, rain greeted me as I plodded from the hotel to the conference center, avoiding puddles and wrestling my umbrella when the wind tried to turn it inside out. I got to the conference room at 7:28. No team. 

One of the NCTE tech people hooked me up with a dongle which was my biggest worry about the presentation. (A set of dongles is on my holiday wishlist, and that's another slice!). I sat and sipped my coffee with the opening slide relievingly ( a made-up word, but a perfect one for the context) projected on the screen behind me. No team. 

I checked my phone, and there were a few texts from Rebecca. We took a wrong turn. Be there soon... We're almost there... The texts were several minutes earlier. It was almost 8. Participants were drifting into the room and taking seats. Still no team. 

At 8:07, the group came in, nerves riding high, flushed, and jittery. 

"Have we got stories for you!" they gushed. "We're so sorry."

"No worries," I kept repeating as they settled in. "We'll be great."

After the presentation, I heard more about all their wrong turns and struggles to get to Room 104B, but they all made it, the presentation was great, and we had a lot of laughs. In fact, we are still laughing. 

Slice of Life: A Game of Catch

   On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

 

I walked down the hall this afternoon to check my mailbox, and I overheard an interaction between a teacher and a student. The kind that sometimes happens at the end of the day, maybe more often toward the end of the week than  on a Tuesday. The kind that happens when a student says or does one more thing than frayed teacher nerves can handle. I didn't mean to hear or listen. I just did. 

When I walked back toward my office, a student-- my guess was the nerve-frayer-- was in the hall bouncing a tennis ball against the wall. I stopped and tossed it back and forth with him. I'm not sure I should have. Was it positive reinforcement for bad behavior? Maybe. But he's a kid I've watched move through the grades worrying teachers. 

We kept tossing the ball back and forth, and he was impressed with the different ways I could catch. He's a wide receiver on the football team, and I think he's pretty good, so his compliments meant something. Catching's important to him. He's been in trouble a lot with his dad, so he was worried about the call home that his teacher had promised before she had him leave class and hang out in the hallway. We talked about whether he might be in less trouble if he broke the news to his dad before the phone rang. He thought maybe. 

Tonight I'm thinking about him. Tomorrow, I'll check in. 

Slice of Life: Solidcore Newbies

  On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

 

Late this afternoon, I texted Betsy and Sharyl, wondering if either of them had gotten sorer as the day progressed. (I had.) My daughters have spent the day chuckling at my reports of sore hamstrings, buttocks, traps, abs, and obliques. Yep, the ground has seemed a lot farther away today than it usually does. 

"That's Solidcore for you," one of them remarked. 

Right. 

After months of talking about it, my colleagues and I went to our first class together on Sunday afternoon. To be fair, I've gone a few times with said daughters, but going with experienced chaperones and going with other novices are two different things, even when the class is touted as an introductory one. 

The first challenge was registering. We got through that. (To be honest, I kept expecting one of them to find an excuse to back out. Talking about doing this was very different than actually doing it.) 

Challenge 2: The three of us arrived at the studio, and they cheered me on as I found the door code in a string of texts. Done. 

And Challenge 3: Then, entering the code in order to get into the locked studio door. I'm proud to report that I pushed the door open before the girl behind the desk made it over to let us in, but it was a close call. 

Note: There had already been a lot of challenges, and the class hadn't started... 

We navigated our way into the room and commandeered three-- what do you call them?-- machines? stations? reformers? (torture devices???)---

The music came on, Emily the instructor welcomed us, and we were on our way to completing our 50-minute class, along with thirteen other Solidcore newbies. 

Since I was the instigator, I was relieved that the overall consensus was positive as we walked to the car after class. And yes, we're going back. But maybe not tomorrow since today, I'm still a little sore to the touch. 

Slice of Life: Hoping to Remain Anonymous

 On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community. 

  

 

I'm always happy to meet with teachers and talk about writing. I am not as happy to navigate the parking lots any of the elementary schools at drop-off time. Usually I park strategically when I have before-school meetings, but I forgot about that wise strategy yesterday morning. Yes, I've been at this work for several (okay, maybe more than several) years, but it was my first before-school meeting this year, and I was catching up with a friend when I pulled into the school. Those are two good excuses. 

In any case, it could have been that every child in the school was a drop-off yesterday morning, so backing out of my parking spot involved people walking behind me, cars pulling along between them, and an occasional car trying to snake by the line of child-dropping-off-mobiles. Not a good combination. I quarter-inched out, checking my rear-view mirror, the back-up camera, and swiveling all the way around, as well, until I finally had room to pull forward and not knick the car next to me. Going forward felt much safer, until... 

As I concentrated on not hitting any stray pedestrians, I didn't pay attention to the bus that was crossing my path to head to the bus drop-off on the other side of the school. In any other driving situation, the right of way was mine, so I was surprised at his left turn in front of me, his (very) loud and long horn directed at me, and his angry hand gestures that continued even after I mouthed and demonstrated a sincere apology. I'm hoping the children on the bus weren't also surprised at the words their driver may have uttered. 

I'm still waiting for one of those bus riders to approach me in a hallway! Hopefully, I'll make it through the week, and that dumb car driver will maintain anonymity.