Slice of Life 2026: 13 of 31- Degree Appreciation

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

I had already done the "what did I forget" inventory and noted a couple of key things (cash and business cards... I could live without them), but I didn't realize I'd forgotten deodorant until I went to get dressed. What an imperfect thing to forget given the fact that I was presenting in the afternoon. I'd definitely need some. 

At the front desk, I asked the woman where the nearest store was where I could buy some deodorant. 

"I got you, honey," she said, handing me a small container of Degree. 

Crisis averted. 

Then, I headed across the street to the convention center. The stream of people were a 50/50 split of men and women, and everyone was in business casual- first clue that I wasn't in the right place. And then the banners were touting a pharmaceutical company. Clue #2. 

I looked around for someone who worked there. Worker #1 didn't seem to speak English. Worker #2 had no idea where the Plain Talk teacher conference was. 

Thank goodness for that hotel lady and Degree. 

I called Dan, the only person I knew at this conference. 

"Where is this?" I asked. 

He laughed and explained where I had to go. It turns out that the New Orleans Convention Center is really big, and it hosts several conferences at a time. Noted. 

The rest of the day went without Degree-testing moments, and I was happy to toast the day with Patty McGee who arrived around five after a much more harrowing travel experience than I'd had. 

Slice of Life 2026: 12 of 31- Airport Anxiety

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

Travel days have a way of heightening any anxiety I may already be feeling. #airportanxiety

Cecily drove me to the airport, and I spent the first few miles mentally reviewing what I'd packed and what I'd forgotten for quick trip to New Orleans. I'm presenting on my new book, and guess what I forgot? A copy of my new book. That's okay. Corwin will be there. I can get a copy. And this conference allows ZERO self-promotion any way. I also forgot cash. That's okay. Venmo covers tips these days, and I shouldn't really need any cash. It's sort of a security blanket these days. 

Still that naggy forgetting feeling... 

I arrived at the airport with plenty of time since my mother had been sharing dire reports about long lines at security. I whizzed through the TSA line, and I even knew to let them know about my titanium knee, so we didn't waste time with me setting off the walk-through alarm. I went straight to the spinny thing and placed my feet in the yellow footprints. 

Once inside the airport, I debated wine or coffee. Wine sounded great, but I had a lot of work to do. I got coffee and treated myself to an iced lemon cake since I'd made the better decision. 

I found myself an end seat in the airport with a plug next to it, and I placed my backpack strategically next to me to discourage anyone from sitting too close to me. (Apologies if you're reading this and wanted that seat!) Then, I finished the reports I had to do, wrote a bunch of emails, scheduled some slice calls... thanks Starbucks! (A better choice, right?)

Anxiety diminished until a lady with a cough sat down next to my backpack. Traveling. Tough to have a relaxing travel day. 

Slice of Life 2026: 11 of 31- Dinner...Delivered

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

I'm not very good at saying no. 

On Tuesdays, I have a pretty full tutoring line-up. I have a 2:30 student, a 3:30 student, a 4:30 student, and a 5:45 student, all in person. When I made that schedule, I figured I could use the bathroom at 5:35. So far, that is working out for me. 

Every other Tuesday, I have a California client. It might be late for me, but for her, 7 ET is the perfect starting time, so Tuesdays, as planned finish up around 8. 

Except when I get an unexpected text from a parent. 

Remember, I'm not very good at saying no. And I also love these twin girls. 

Garth was already on dinner-making duty, planning to have a burger ready for me when I got home late. I texted him. 

I wasn't positive about his meaning with Ok, and I didn't have time to clarify it. Was it "Ok" to being late? Or "Ok" to bringing me dinner. My office is 18 minutes away, so it's not a small request. Just as I was finishing up with my California girl, he walked in and set a plate down on my table. (I should have snapped a picture for a slice, but I think I was too hungry at that point.) 

Luckily, Garth isn't good at saying no either. :)

Slice of Life 2026: 10 of 31- An early publishing explanation

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

Perhaps this slice will help some things make sense to some readers... 

As planned, I made it to the car service place only two minutes late. I knew I'd packed in a lot for the morning, so I was pretty proud of myself for my almost-timeliness. Then, I made sure to gather everything I'd need for my 60-90 minute wait. I had a list of all I'd accompllish during that time. With the car checked in, I found myself a seat, pulled out my laptop, and logged in using the dealership's wifi. I was feeling pretty competent. 

First on the list... getting the calls for slices written up and scheduled for the remainder of my hosting days. (There's a fair amount that goes on behind the scenes, and I did not want to be the reason anything goes less than smoothly!) I checked the calendar to make sure I knew how many days. Got it. 

Then I started going through the posting checklist. Fonts set? Yes. All components included? Yes. Featured image? Hmm-hmmm. Blurb, title, reread... done, done, done. Time to schedule for publish. 

When I went to do that, I hit publish, expecting the calendar to set the date and time. 

Post published, the screen read. Your post is now live. 

*&^%$%^.    *&^%$%^.        *&^%$%^!!!

You can all be impressed that the last line I wrote representing the words I was saying stayed as inside voices. I might have startled some people. 

I scrambled with the post and the keyboard, wrestling through the correct screens and magic formulas to haul that post back into draft form and get it scheduled for 12:01 am TOMORROW. 

And... my inbox merrily let me know about a new TWT post, as did a few other messages, calls, and emails since. So yes, my slice for the day. Sorry everyone!! 

Slice of Life 2026: 9 of 31- A Book Giveaway

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

On Saturday morning, I arrived at the Lansing Convention Center, excited and ready to present at the Michigan Reading Association Conference. Way back when, when I'd agreed to head to Lansing, March 7 felt like a long way away. Time is like that. 

I'd promised myself that I'd remember to take pictures. I didn't do a very good job, and this is the only one I took. When I thought about it more, I realized that I have always presented with other people. We take pictures of the group of us together. It was strange to present by myself. 

Throughout the presentation, I worried about the time. An hour goes by fast when you're trying to fit everything in, and you know there's too much for the number of minutes. Again time is like that. It takes forever when you're waiting for something special to happen, and it flies by when there aren't enough minutes. How is that one minute is the same amount of time regardless of what is happening? 

Since I knew that my new book would not be available to purchase at the conference, I brought a copy with me. After I finished the session, a few people stayed to ask questions and talk about practices. One woman pulled up a picture of her 3 year-old daughter. 

"What do I say to her teacher?" the one whose name I wish I knew asked. 

The teacher had sent a picture of several children hard at work tracing sight words. 

This woman's daughter held a pen in a fist grip. "She has no idea what she's writing," the woman said. "I wish there was more fun happening."

We talked about how hard it can be to be an educator and send your children to school. Of course, there are things you'd do differently or that you wished weren't happening, and yes, tracing words before a grip is mastered could be one of those wish-they-weren't-doings. 

"Your daughter will be fine," I said. "She has you." 

But we both expressed some worries for some of the children who don't have a knowledgeable parent. 

"What can I say to her?" she asked. "Without coming across as the parent who knows everything."

I'd brought one copy of our book, and on an impulse, I handed it to her. 

"Take this," I said. "Tell her you were at a conference, and the presenter gave you a book, and you're sharing it. All true. Maybe she'll find ideas that will benefit your daughter and also other children in the class."

"You're giving this to me?" she asked. 

"I am," I said. 

She gave me a hug and headed off to lunch. Maybe someday I'll know her name.  

Slice of Life 2026: 8 of 31- An Almost Fall

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

After a sweaty game of pickleball, Julia and I ducked into the ladies room for a quick hand washing. I'd borrowed a demo paddle, and you never know who might have been using it before. (Another potential slice.)

As we left the bathroom, I pulled the door open, just as someone on the other side was going to push it. When I tell you that the result was almost calamitous, I'm not exaggerating. 

The woman was looking anywhere but forward as she went to push the door open, and there was no door to push open. Have you ever done that? Gone to push something that you thought was there and had nothing there? It's that feeling of thinking there's another step at the bottom or the staircase... 

Luckily for her, I was watching her, and I leaned in as she fell into me. 

"Oh," she said. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying any attention."

Julia and I had a good laugh as we left the club. 

"There's my slice," I said. "It even has a remote moral of paying attention and being present."

And, it's safe to say that the dangers of pickleball extend beyond the court! 

Slice of Life 2026: 7 of 31- The Trouble With Cleaning

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

I am fairly certain that my daughters will sit around a table one day and talk about their mother. They might talk about the Slice of Life. They might talk about my chocolate chip cookies and struggles to follow recipes. They will definitely talk about my cleaning tendencies and my propensity for throwing away still-necessary items and papers. 

Every now and then, I enter a bit of a cleaning frenzy. Usually it's because we're having guests or we're going on vacation. Feel free to pass judgement. If you come to my house for dinner, you're likely to enter a house that is misrepresenting its usual state of cleanliness. 

Nearby friends are hosting a 60th birthday this weekend, and since out-of-town friends are attending the said party, our guest quarters has gotten the nod. That's awesome, except that the current bedroom that is available for guests shares a bathroom with a current resident. Generally, I steer clear of the resident's bathroom. #notmyterritory. Every now and then, I'll need to borrow a tweezers or a spritz of perfume (okay, that's not really a borrow), and I'm impressed at the number of products. Sephora giveaways receive close attention in families of four girls. 

I didn't think it was fair to ask the non-hosting daughter to deep-clean her bathroom because not-her-guests would be sharing the space on Saturday night, so I carved out cleaning time. Once I start, it's hard to stop. I cleared counters and shelves, scrubbed and wiped, and okay, I might have even tossed some almost-empty bottles. (How many drops can you squeeze out of an already over-squeezed bottle?)

You're likely to read a rendition of this story from Clare because later that evening, she commented on my post. 

I opted to continue the conversation in a more personal space. She wasn't home, so our text conversation went like this: 

And this morning, you'll all be happy to know that her bathroom is clean, and she was right about the receipt.

I fished it out for her, and it's ready for returns! 

Maybe one day, I'll do better with my impulsive cleaning and tossing.