Take Me Out to the Ball Game

The news broke a few years ago that the minor league ball team was building a new stadium and moving to the city near us. Cheers of excitement ensued as the up and coming city hosted contests to name the new team. And the frenzy grew as the park listed the area restaurants and breweries that would be featured at the stadium. Needless to say we were all looking forward to bringing the grandchildren to this kid friendly park on Sunday!

The hype began at the parking lot with an electric shuttle cart arriving just as we were crawling out of the car dressed on the new WooSox hats. The boys looked at the vehicle with trepidation but once we boarded they were thrilled riding in the cart speeding down the city street and dropping us off at the gate. The magic continued with the first glance of the field as it was being groomed by the crew. “Wow!” was all they could say.

Walking through the ballpark to find our space we meet up with the team mascot Smiley, a nod to the Worcester born creator of the original smile face from 1965. Handshakes and photos ensued as the smiles grew and the thrill of the day sunk in for the boys.

And then the announcement… “Play Ball!”

The sound of first crack of the bat!

The bags of salted peanuts!

Number one foam fingers waved.

What more could a two preschoolers and their grandmother ask for!

It’s Tuesday and I am joining the writing community over at Two Writing Teachers for their weekly Slice of Life share. Won’t you join in too?

Train Rumblings

Her house sat on a small dead end road
With a backyard as narrow as can be
If you stood on that small lot of land
and stretched your 12 year old arms
one finger tip would touch the house
and the other would reach the sooty wall
The wall that held up the train tracks twenty feet above your head
The train that rumbled all hours of the day
And night
Banging and clanking at the switching yard just beyond your view
The commotion shaking the entire house
And bringing fright to all
Thinking the rattling would tumble down the old family homestead
Instead a highway came through forcing eviction to the home where the family was born and raised
The home that held one tiny bathroom for eleven kids and a mom and dad
with a ceiling so low one had to duck to get in the tub
Four small bedrooms with windows darkened with train smoke
And a creaky dark staircase

But the parties!

Jammed in tight with all of the cousins and aunts and uncles
Candy jars filled with chocolates
and ribbon candy and pink pillows filled with peanut butter
Music playing loudly on the 8 track drowning out the chugging
And occasionally an uncle or an aunt leading us all in a chorus of the family’s favorite tunes
Oh Danny Boy
My Best to You
Or a popular musical hit
Memories of a small house that may have shaken endlessly
Only to have been brought down with a single strike of a wrecking ball
But still oozing with love
And memories to last a lifetime

It’s Tuesday and I’m joining the writing community over at Two Writing Teachers with my slice of life story. Won’t you consider joining in?

Good Morning Coordination

I have always considered myself uncoordinated. Zumba classes were a laugh, as I tried to get my right foot and left arm to go in opposite directions at the same time. My new fitness routines however have proven to me that I can improve my coordination with patience and practice. I judge I had conquered the beast and was able to better perform the complicated moves with my limbs. I even bought a shirt reading “Good Morning Coordination” to honor my progress. I felt confident – that is until I visited the foot doctor last week.

I was experiencing some strange foot pains that were not improving and so the podiatrist recommended a gait assessment. I arrived at 8:30am for the appointment with two nurses waiting for me in the room. They explained the procedure to me. Walk across the square computerized pad on the floor making sure your stride hits the mark in the center of the pad, first with your right foot hitting the mark, then back across again with your left foot hitting the mark. The nurses suggested I practice a few times before officially recording my gait. I readily agreed.

As usual I started my step on my right foot and landed on the center mark without a problem. But each time I needed to start off with my left foot my brain froze and I struggled to get it right. It felt awkward and stilted and I required a few more minutes of practice and loads of verbal cues.

Right foot forward – great

Left foor forward perfect

Right foot – I remembered

Right foot – oops.

We needed to start all over again and again and again.

The nurses and I had a good chuckle, making fun of myself and my lack early morning coordination. I promised that next time I would wear my new shirt: “Good Morning Coordination!” Maybe it will help.

It’s Tuesday and I am once again joining the writing community over at Two Writing Teachers with my weekly slice of life post. Won’t you consider joining in?

Keep Your Fingers Flying #SOL21

It’s a dreary day here and I am sitting at my computer trying to write. I say trying because I have no clue what to write about today. Which I find interesting because I just completed sixty-one days, yes 61 days, of writing. March brought the daily slice of life challenge, and April had me writing a poem a day. My choice of course, and I loved every minute of it. I rarely had writers block, almost always finding something to slice or “poet’ about. So today with the freedom to write a small moment I find myself stuck.

Is my brain fried? Have I led some boring existence? Is this another side effect of the pandemic? The answer is a resounding no on all fronts, it’s just one of those days.

Yet it ties me to many of my students who claim they can’t write. The ones we sit with and guide into searching their brains, their writing notebooks, their afterschool plans to help jog their minds for topics. So we tell them to just keep their pens going.

That’s me today – keeping my fingers flying on the keyboard with no message, no little chuckle of a story to offer, no cute grandbabies to smile about. For today, I am simply keeping my fingers flying. And for today, that feels just fine.

Is my writing mood a reflection of this dreary drizzly scene?

I am joining the writing community over at Two Writing Teachers today and every Tuesday with a little slice of life story. Please consider joining in the writing fun!