InSight

When someone shows you who they are,

believe them the first time.

Randumb Thoughts

Why is the phrase “walk home” void of a preposition? We wouldn’t say “walk school” or “walk store,” so why do we say “walk home”? Just imagine how odd it would be to hear someone say “I walked to home” and, yet, it would be grammatically correct!

Why isn’t there an accurate word to name one’s adult, live-in partner? No one over the age of twenty-five wants to walk around referring to the one they love as their boyfriend or girlfriend; it completely demeans the eminence and longevity of a relationship when you have to tag it with a term that most associate with adolescents. As for “partner” – it’s not really a feasible option if you’re straight, as it was long ago claimed by the gay community. How about lifemate? (i.e. "My lifemate and I are planning a trip to Mesopotamia”) Would that just be too cheesy?

Why is there no gender singular or plural word for cousins? We have aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, moms and dads, sisters and brothers, grandmothers and grandfathers, but no word to describe male or female cousins. At the same time we have words that group both genders (i.e parents, grandparents, siblings) but no one word to describe aunts and uncles or nieces and nephews at once. Why is it that we can say “I went to visit my parents and siblings” but we have to rail off a mouthful of words when we want to tell someone that we “took a trip to visit our aunts, uncles, nieces, and nephews”?

And finally…this one drives me crazy: why do most singers pronounce the words “heaven” and “Christmas” as “Hev-un” and “Cris-muss”? Does Eric Clapton think his song would be less emotive if he sang about tears in heaven rather than “tears in hev-un”?

In Love

Introducing my little Mac-doe, who was able to push his brother, Lincoln, aside this afternoon to steal the spotlight during my sister Meghan’s ultrasound. [Link to Link]

Currently weighing in at 4.3 pounds, his precious little face is making Auntie Carrie think she may soon forget the days when she said she didn’t want children.

Sun Tea and Dusty Dog Bones

The forecast is calling for a chilly, rainy weekend, so I am willing the good weather’s hasty return by sharing some shots of mine and Joe’s quiet afternoon in the sunshine.  While I graded stacks of papers on the back deck and waited for my sun tea to warm on the porch railing, Joey-girl strode stridently through the backyard – proud as a peacock over her new bone, which she buried in the dirt more times than I can count.  Although I am now coming down quickly from a caffeine high, and have a backyard dented with paw-marked craters, I can’t wait to spend another day just like this one when the warm weather returns to us.

One Woman's Trash...

The fun thing about living in the city of Albany is that the Department of General Services is indiscriminate about the size, quantity, and content of the garbage placed at the curbside to be hauled away each week. Unlike Albany’s neighboring suburban residents who pay for garbage removal, we can throw refrigerators, mattresses, discarded construction materials, etc. to the road and they are toted away without question on our tax dime. Although it leaves me scratching my head and fretting over the elevation of our local landfills, this practice was a perk for Mart and I at the height of our home renovation.

Spring is an interesting time of year to live in the city, as people get the itch to follow the landscape’s lead and start anew. This results in lots of cleaning, lots of de-cluttering and, thus, lots of garbage piled upon the curb sides. This being our third spring as Albany residents, Marty and I have become accustomed to the rumble of the rusty, dilapidated pickup trucks that belong to the men we call “The Creepers”. They could be hoarders, slumlords, or salesmen, but you name it and these guys will take it: sixty year old kitchen cabinets, crushed wicker baskets, scrap wood, worn tires, musty furniture…the list goes on. They know the garbage men’s schedule by heart and each night they run their circuit, creeping through Albany neighborhoods, making innumerable drive-bys, peering from their dusty windows until they spot the next gem tossed to the roadside by some unsuspecting resident.

Yet The Creepers aren’t the only ones who get a thrill out of other people’s previously loved household items - Mart and I are often amused to see neighbors head down the street on an evening stroll only to walk back a few minutes later with a treasure they grabbed out of someone else’s trash pile. Two summers ago, we ourselves participated in the dumpster diving when the family across the street placed fence panels at their curb for removal. Hours later, under the cover of darkness, we made a half a dozen trips across Westford Street to collect enough panels to repair our own ramshackle fence.

But just a few days ago we scored our biggest find. With spring fever in his bones, Marty took the afternoon off from work and dedicated himself to a thorough overhaul of our garage, which had gone gravely neglected during the winter months. While lugging a dusty bag of unwanted items to the street, Marty noticed our next door neighbor’s father hauling a brand new grill out to her curbside. Mart struck up a conversation with the guy and learned that his daughter had decided to discard her newly purchased grill because she discovered, after bringing it home, that one of the burners was out of commission. Mart, being the resourceful guy that he is, thought he had a shot at repairing the broken burner, so he got busy dragging the grill into our yard before one of The Creepers came by and snagged it for himself.

Two hours later I returned home from work to a boyfriend who was grinning from ear to ear as he stood beside the same grill we had admired at Lowe’s last season. Together we carried his fortunate find up to the deck, gave it a good scrub, hooked up the propane tank, and decided to try our luck with diagnosing the problem. As Mart pressed the ignite button and turned the knob to high, we both expected the grill would give a soft sputter and the flame would die. Yet to our delight, we discovered our neighbor’s diagnosis had been dead wrong: the grill was in perfect working condition. Yay!

Mart deemed this an occasion worthy of a gin and tonic, and as he got busy pouring, I knocked around the kitchen and got busy chopping and seasoning. Within twenty minutes, our neighbor's grill, which  hours earlier had been sentenced to a life in a landfill, was doing a dandy job of roasting red potatoes, frying garlic smothered asparagus, and grilling lemon pepper seasoned tilapia. 

As we enjoyed our lunch together on the deck in the sunshine, we decided that being Creepers wasn’t so bad.  After all,  the best things in life are free.

Ya Get More With Sugar Than Ya Do With Vinegar

I was given the great privilege of watching my niece and nephew on Tuesday night while my sister and her fiancé enjoyed a quiet evening downtown at 677 Prime.  Upon their arrival it was decided that cupcakes were in order, so we got busy in the kitchen cooking up our happily chaotic concoction.  When Willow and Manny decided that white cake mix was too vanilla for their taste, we got crazy with the food coloring.  It wasn't long before Willow's pretty pink dress was green, and our lips and tongues were blue.  

 

My kind of teamwork!

Gotta love them big browns!

"Eat dessert first" is the rule we follow at Aunt Carrie's house.  However, when my veggie-lovin' Willow noticed that "Uncle Babe" was boiling up some edamame, she couldn't miss out on the treat, and soon we were enjoying an edamame picnic on the dining room rug. Willow ate so many I thought she'd surely turn green in the face.  Of course that didn't happen, but I imagine my sister must have been in stitches the next morning when Willow went to the bathroom to do her business and shouted "Wow, it's green.  That's amazing!"

Another Good Reason to Teach

A student approached me at the close of yesterday’s class and thanked me for laying a stronger foundation in her writing by taking the time to review the basics of grammar and punctuation. She said that she was "so relieved to finally learn what a semi-colon is." 

"Yes,” I responded, “its function is highly overlooked and sadly underestimated.”

"No," she stated, "You don't understand: before this class I didn't even know that the semicolon existed. Every time I saw it in a piece of writing I thought it was a typo."

All Dressed Up With No Place To Go

What happens when you mix Carrie, a sunny day, procrastination, and a super tolerant pup?        

"Mom, this is soooo embarrassing..."

2:34 am

There’s something in the hollow

Bump of bone

Against each ninety degree

That raises the edge

Of an ear in mid dream.

Somehow marrow’s intellect surrenders

To the verity that it isn’t

The stranger I’d been anticipating

I’d awaken to:

Calloused palm against moistened lips;

A barrel to the crest where wisps meet nape;

Or loot cascading from elbow crooks,

Strewn across the outer parts of the

Sheath constructed to deflect the villain.

Far worse:

Searching hands

Against darkened walls

That dissipate

Where they stand.

And the crumbling that existed

Before sound

As various versions of

Former selves

Collide to the linoleum.

It was me who landed

Beside bare foot heels

In the spot I’ve been

All these years

In alternate states

Of awe

And submission.

Modesty’s irrelevant.

Watch as my heart beats beside me.

Ēostre

It was a beautiful Easter Sunday here in upstate New York.  The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the grass appeared to reach a deeper hue of green with each passing hour.

After waking up early to make my contribution to Easter dinner --sweet potato casserole with pecans and marshmallows, and cinnamon and raisin kugle-- I woke up Marty and we headed out to Capital Hills Golf Course to enjoy our last walk on the green with Joey before the course closed to us and opened for golf season. 

After our walk it was on to my parents' house for delicious food and great company.  Click here for a link to photos of the day in full.