Posted on by mgminer · 8 Comments

A Day to Remember

My love affair with my granddaughter, Maggie, who is almost 6, is real and unexplainable. Maybe it is that she is the first baby of my last baby. Maybe it’s that I adore the name, Maggie. Maybe it’s that she is exuberant about life and makes me laugh. Maybe it’s that she talks so fast she can barely breathe and can always think of a fun game to play. Or maybe it’s that we have grown our relationship this past year with talking bitmojis, FaceTime, cards, and letters.

Those of you who know me, know that I am not a morning person. However, today I got up at 4:30 a.m. so I could be on a 7:00 a.m. flight to Texas to see Maggie, Johnny, and their new baby sister, Molly. (Are you also thinking of the e.e. cummings poem “maggie and milly and molly and may?” For your enjoyment, you can read it here.)

After a quick lunch at the local “Whataburger,” we drove to the Whistle Stop playground in Temple, Texas and played hide-and-seek. I pushed the kids on the swings until I thought my arms would fall off. It was a glorious, sunshiny day to be outside. A really, really long train rumbled past which gave some credence to the name of the park.

May I tell you how Maggie won my heart today? Well, there are a number of ways. She is starting to read. She knew th is called a digraph. She gave up her room for me to sleep in and left a love note on my pillow. And so sweetly, during the blessing on the food at dinner, she gently rested her head on my arm. What more could a grandma ask for?

A happy place to be. Thank you Two Writing Teachers.
Posted on by mgminer · 12 Comments

Dresses for Molly

“Do you want to see what I made?” Evelyn asked.

“Sure!”

She opened her red and white striped canvas tote. Gently, she lifted a bright array of colors, prints, rickrack, and ribbons. It was a riot of color and joy. You see, my sister has always loved to sew. It is her love language, I believe. She expresses herself in fabric, the way others might on an instrument or page. She touches fabric the way a mother strokes her baby. She can envision what it might become.

Evelyn had made 3 little sundresses for my new granddaughter, Molly. I’m leaving to visit them tomorrow, and Evelyn wanted me to bring her gift with me. I could cry when I think about the time she spent, the creativity she unleashed, and the pure delight these summer dresses will bring. They are perfect for hot summer days in Waco, Texas. She even gave me extra ribbon for Maggie, Molly’s older sister, to wear in her hair.

Tomorrow, I’ll be writing from Texas, which just might feel like heaven.

Note: The ribbons cinch up the front and back and are tied in bows at the shoulders.

Posted on by mgminer · 9 Comments

Stink Bugs

Happy to be participating in the SOLSC! Thank you TWT!

In September, I started teaching my granddaughter to read over Zoom. It’s one of the blessings of being retired. I have the time to build a relationship with Alice that I missed with her older siblings all the years I was working full-time at school. Alice has come a long way from not knowing all her letters and sounds to this week’s lessons using -nk.

-ank. bank. ank.
-ink. pink. ink.
-onk. honk. onk.
-unk. junk. unk.

Some of you may recognize this drill for teaching students word parts. Alice and I have been working with this pattern. She was ready to give it a try in a book called Stink Bugs.

We were reading along and Alice was decoding very well. She decoded rostrums which was pretty impressive. Did you know that a stink bug has a rostrum which is like a long straw for a mouth? It can stick its rostrum into berries and flowers to drink. When not eating, it tucks the rostrum under its belly between its legs. Pretty handy.

Next we read about the life cycle of the stink bug. The pictures were vivid. I was having a great time learning about stink bugs (which have migrated to Virginia only recently). Alice clearly wasn’t having as much fun.

“Excuse me, Grandma. I don’t mean to be rude, but why are we reading THIS book?” She was so earnest. I had to chuckle a little as I explained that we were reading it to practice -nk words. Then I mentioned that it’s good to read nonfiction because we can learn cool stuff. “But Grandma, stink bugs are gross and icky!”

What do you think?

Pentatomidae - Halyomorpha halys-001.JPG
Brown Marmorated Stink Bug
Posted on by mgminer · 5 Comments

Holding Hands

Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating this space to share my stories.

Feeling somewhat depleted, I absent-mindedly scrolled through Facebook for the umpteenth time. I stopped when I saw that my granddaughter’s kindergarten teacher had posted a new photo. I always love seeing Maggie no matter the setting. Today’s picture was celebrating “Colorful Day.” Mrs. S. is a young teacher in her second year of her career. I have been so impressed with how she has navigated this school year so that Maggie is happy and having a great introduction to school.

I touched the picture and spread my fingers to get a closer look. Where was my Maggie in this crowd of kindergarteners? “Ah, there she is!” I thought and smiled.

Then, imagine my delight when I could see that Maggie was holding hands with her friend, Kenzie. Is there anything more heartening than kindergarten friendships? It just made me so happy. For a moment, I wasn’t afraid she would get sick, or that she was breaking a rule. For a moment, I saw only kindergarten love.

Image from Google

Posted on by mgminer · 9 Comments

Thirty Minutes of Peter

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for making this a safe, supportive space to write.

I had finished teaching on this blustery first day of March. I knew chores and bill paying awaited me at home. Considering the time, I texted my daughter to see if she was at home. She was.”Yes!” I said to myself.

My daughter’s apartment is on my way home from teaching. I was there in 2 minutes. As I walked up the steps, my heart felt light. I didn’t mind the wind or cold.

When I opened the door, I smelled the delicious aroma of homemade minestrone soup. We greeted and she handed me her Peter, now 5 weeks old. I sat down in the rocker. He fussed a little, but then he settled into my arms. He held my finger and was soon asleep. I couldn’t help but stare at his eyelashes, his little hands, his soft cheeks. We rocked, and I chatted with my daughter. I waited until he gave up a big sigh, knowing that I could hand him back without waking him.

Every now and then, it feels good to know that you can still give what a baby needs, and by that, receive what you need. It was exactly what I needed today. Thirty minutes of Peter.

3/1/2021
Posted on by mgminer · 7 Comments

March 2, 2014

The year Jane was 4 was one of the best years of my life simply because Jane announced nearly every day, “This is the BEST day of my life!” It didn’t take much to make it the best day–a trip to the pool, a slurpee from 7-11, or a new set of markers. One of her favorite activities that year was drawing and coloring princesses, complete with tiaras, long eyelashes, and high heels. She loved to color while I made dinner.

One particular afternoon, I wrestled an oven-stuffer chicken in the sink. I washed it and reached inside to remove the neck, gizzard, heart, and whatever a giblet is. I held it by the legs under the running water, filling up the cavity with water and dumping it out. Over and over, filling it up and dumping it out. The water ran cold as I removed the last of the innards.

The chicken was almost ready to stuff. Jane knelt on the kitchen chair at the table working hard on a princess.  After several minutes of working on our separate tasks, Jane said matter-of-factly, “I don’t know about you mom, but I sure do feel bad for that chicken.”  She never looked up or stopped coloring but her four-year old compassion touched me.  I have not made a chicken since without remembering that day.  It was one of the BEST days of my life.

Posted on by mgminer · 6 Comments

March 1, 2014

Growing up in Virginia, I have watched deer with reverence ever since I can remember. To see a deer made the day special whether we had just gone for a walk at Great Falls or driven to the Shenandoah Mountains for a hike near Big Meadow.  Now I feel sad when people only refer to deer as a nuisance to their gardens.  It can still take my breath away to see their gentle eyes, graceful legs, and sweetly-spotted babies.

The deer come when I need them.

Three deer came forth from the woods near our house the day that Stephen was diagnosed with cancer.  One looked up and our eyes locked.  It’s message seemed to be acknowledging how fragile life can be.

My first job as a reading teacher began with a five-deer sighting along the highway.  That affirmed, for me, an important shift in my life.  A new job, a new school, a new me.  Blessed by deer.

Once at twilight, years ago soon after my father died, I saw deer in the snow near the Little League fields.  I pulled into the parking lot to get a closer look.  I rolled down my window and was just watching and listening to the quiet when a police car pulled up behind me.  Apparently, I shouldn’t have been in the parking lot when it wasn’t baseball season.  I told the officer that I saw the deer and just wanted to enjoy the sight.  He said I had to move along.

Three deer grazed outside the hospital last Sunday morning at 5:30 a.m.  I had just spent seven hours with my daughter in the Emergency Room.  She was gravely ill from Dengue Fever contracted in Honduras.  The deer brought a bit a of beauty, a bit of calm, a bit of surprising joy.  Such a comfort.

The deer come when I need them.