Slice of Life: Delivering Breakfast to Clare

Tuesdays are for slicing about life. Join us at Two Writing Teachers!

Over the weekend, I had a special breakfast request from Clare. She had to be at work early-- before her favorite sandwich and coffee shop opened, so she left me a note. (Yes, a note... not a text!)

Would I bring her a breakfast wrap-- #1-- and an iced coffee latte with almond milk? Sift opens at 9. 

Of course I would! 

With her sandwich and her coffee in hand, I headed to the yacht club where Clare runs the harbor and drives the launch. My favorite boat was at the dock so I got a close up view as I headed up the stairs to Clare's office where she was sitting at the desk making schedules. I sat down next to her and passed over her coffee and sandwich. Before she could thank me, her radio/walkie-talkie went off with someone wanting a mooring. I wish I could capture her response right now, but it contained way too much nautical terminology for me to do her justice. A few starboards... a few ports... a bow... a stern...other terms that were less familiar to me. 

While Clare shares stories of her experiences at the club (my favorites have been the ones where men are surprised at her launch navigation since they don't expect a girl to be at the helm of a boat...much less one they are passengers on!), I don't get to see her in action firsthand too often. 

Listening to her, I couldn't help thinking of how proud her grandfather would be of his granddaughter. 

Happy Slicing! 

Slice of Life: Coffees, frogs, and skeletons

Tuesdays are for slicing about life. Join us at Two Writing Teachers!

What seemed like a normal stop at Starbucks created a couple of very strange stories. Garth, Clare, and I needed to pass about fifteen minutes before an appointment so we stopped, ordered drinks, and took them outside to enjoy the warm weather. (There hasn't been a whole lot of it this spring.)

I went to sit down first, but something was on my chair. I thought it was a napkin. Then I thought it was a rock or a piece of cement. I looked closer, and it was moving just a tiny, tiny bit. "It's a frog," I said. 

"That's not a frog," Garth said. 

"That's definitely a frog," Clare said. 

I looked it up when I got home, and I think it was actually a gray treefrog. We sat at a different table. 

As we sat there enjoying our drinks and watching the frog, things seemed normal. A few stopped and said hello. We talked about plans for the weekend... and then a car went by with an unusual passenger. 

"Did anyone just see that?" I asked. "There was a skeleton in the passenger seat."

"Right," said Clare.

"Right," said Garth. 

Luckily for my and my reliability/sanity, the driver headed back to his car as we headed to ours, offering me a chance to snap a picture.

(Or two.)

 

I couldn't resist asking him about the rationale for a skeletal passenger, and he explained that his children were too small to sit in the front. They had gotten the skeleton for Halloween, buckled her in, and have kept her there ever since. 

Fascinating... I think there's more than a slice of life in this story...

PS- About the frog... does anyone know what would have been the right thing to do for that frog? I feel like we should have moved him from the chair but wonder where we should have brought him. What would you have done with that frog?

Happy Slicing,

Slice of Life: That Moment When You've Got This

Tuesdays are for slicing about life. Join us at Two Writing Teachers!

So there's that moment that happens--

After you've tossed and turned throughout the night listening to your daughter get up and use the bathroom, probably several times,

After you've sat in the waiting room for a couple of hours trying to catch up on work, trying to respond to emails, trying to finish the book you've been enjoying, 

After the nurse has called you in because she's finished and awake and ready to think about getting dressed and heading home, 

After the doctor has talked to you about the results and the next steps, the ifs and the whens, the possibilities and probabilities, the studies and protocols, 

That moment when the doctor touches your arm and you are moms together when she asks if your girl is always this mature and this great, 

And you nod and say yes and your throat gets tight and your eyes get hot and the tears flash and splash before you can blink and hold them back. 

Then you smile, maybe even laugh, and you say, 

"We're good. We've got this."

Because you are and you do. 

Happy Slicing,