I Raked And Raked

Each fall when it is time to begin raking leaves, there are always a few moments when I wonder why I ever sold my super duper combination leaf vac-blower-mulcher.

But then I remember the "why".

The year we bought our house, we also purchased that super duper combination leaf vac-blower-mulcher. I thought it would be a PRACTICAL decision. Despite having a fairly small yard, there were plenty of trees and I anticipated filling MANY bags of leaves. Use of power equipment would allow us to EFFICIENTLY and QUICKLY remove leaves. 

So that 1st year, my son and I had great fun blowing the leaves into piles ... then using the vacuum hose to gather up all the leaves ... while the mulcher did what mulchers do. There were also a few invisible monsters captured and medieval dragons slayed in our battle to re-capture the lawn. Yet I was surprised by the number of leaf bags that still had to be carted to the compost site – as well as the amount of time actually required to get the yard ready for winter.

The 2nd year, doing the yard work didn't contain as much enthusiasm and imagination as it had the year prior. The 3rd year, the prospect of leaf removal was viewed with a certain amount of dread. And the holes in the bag (caused by sticks captured along with 2 years' worth of invisible monsters) promised to reduce the efficiency and speed of leaf removal. 

The 4th year, I decided to pull out the rakes.

So the rakes came out and piles of leaves were built. It was then I noticed that my son was actually ENJOYING our time of leaf raking. And on more than one occasion, when I thought he was actually raking and bagging, I'd see him playing "hide-and-seek" (among the leaf piles) with the family dog or running and leaping into the mounds, thereby undoing all of his hard leaf raking work. Periodically we'd engage in Mom-and-Son chats. We'd talk about school, friendships, his worries, dreams and plans ... discuss the wild critters that shared the yard ... take time to look at the trees and wonder about the different colors and shapes of individual leaves. And, as with that first year, there would be the occasional pursuit of a dragon or perhaps, an invisible monster to capture.

Looking back on those days (when I raced to get the yard "ready" for winter), I tend to forget the number of leaves bagged. I can hardly recall the number of trips to the compost pile. But what I do remember are the quiet chats ... the important topics casually covered ... the giggles and laughter ... the times of silence peacefully enjoyed.

But then my Son did what Sons are supposed to do. He grew up. And raking became more a chore and less a play. Eventually, my Son moved away to begin a new life and career.

Each fall, as I rake the leaves in my little postage stamp of a yard, I have a moment when I wonder why I ever sold the super duper combination leaf vac-blower-mulcher. But then I remember watching my son and our little Shih Tzu chase each other through big piles of leaves. And I see a young boy changing and growing into a man. Then I take a few moments to look (with that remembered sense of wonder) at the various shapes and colors of individual leaves that fill my yard.

Last night, a young Mother and her son stopped by my yard for a chat. The young boy looked around at all the leaves in my yard. Then he turned to me and said,

"You know. I could help you rake those leaves. And I'll even bring my own rake."

So we had a little conversation about the business of leaf raking (as young Mother looked on) and came to the agreement that I could certainly benefit by his help. 

I'm looking forward to leaf raking this year.

It's been awhile since I've had any help capturing the invisible aliens and dragons in my yard.

A Tattered Picture Book

I'm going to apologize, in advance, for posting a long rhyme instead of a short one. But this rhyme has been awhile in the making. The event that inspired the rhyme happened in July. The illustrations were noodled a few weeks ago (during a lull between phone calls). It was only recently I started thinking about the rhyme itself. This seems to happen every time Great Auntie enters the picture.

She (like me) is NOT a woman of few words.

Now. Let me tell you the story behind "A Tattered Picture Book".

One morning in July, I made my weekly trek to the laundromat. It was great timing on my part – I only had to compete with 1 person for the large capacity washing machines. Having once washed loads of dirty diapers and kids' clothing, I graciously conceded the biggest machines to the young mother who was accompanied by her small daughter and infant-in-stroller (along with SEVERAL baskets of dirty laundry).

While Young Mom took care of the dirty clothes, her little daughter took care of the baby. The girl had a stack of picture books and was reading the books – one by one – to her little brother. The baby did what babies do: kicked his legs and waved his arms ... chortled and gurgled ... stuck his fist in his mouth ... hollered occasionally ... and grabbed at whatever toy was close enough for his tiny fingers to grab hold of and stick in his mouth or wave in the air.

Big Sister (who looked as if she might be only 5 or 6), would periodically hold the book up close to the baby's face and then pull it away the minute Baby decided the book might be good to grab and gnaw upon. Once in awhile, she'd put the book down and stick her head into the carriage (and make big sister goo-goo noises at the baby to make him laugh).

Mom proved what kids have always suspected (but only Mothers know for sure) – she had 3 eyes. Two kept an eagle eye on the kids and this strange old woman (me, the only other person in the laundromat). The third eye was for the laundry which, as any Mother could tell you after having at least 1 child in diapers (and most certainly after 2), can be done with one eye closed and/or in one's sleep.

Finally, the little girl noticed me and showed me the book she was reading. So we talked for a little bit. And all the while, Big Sister kept 1 eye on the baby and 1 eye on me (i.e., early training in case 1 day she needs 3 eyes). During our conversation, Baby kept his eyes on his big sister (while doing what babies always do: smiled, chortled, gurgled, hollered, kicked, etc).

Then I said to the little girl, "Oh my. That baby certainly loves you and knows you love him!"

Big Sister calmly replied, "I know. And do you know who else loves the baby?"

I smiled a little, anticipating the answer of "Mommy", "Daddy", "Grandpa", "Grandma" or perhaps even "Great Auntie" (or the family pet). So I responded with, "No. Who else loves the baby?"

She gazed at me for a moment and in that matter-of-fact tone (used only by small children who believe certain adults are in dire need of being taught some wisdom), Big Sister said,

"God loves the baby."

There's not much that can make me speechless. I thought for a few seconds as the little girl looked at me, waiting for my reply. And for once, I found myself capable of being a woman of few words:

"I know, honey. God loves the baby as much as God loves you."

The little girl dismissed me with a sweet smile and went back to reading a picture book to her baby brother.

As for the Young Mother of this story? Well, she had never stopped keeping watch over her beloved children – and the laundry still got done.

Don't Ask!

When I was kid, and asked (by my Mother) about my school day, I tended to say very little. Once the school day had passed, I was ready to get on with the NEXT part of my day – which involved doing homework or going outside to play or finding a quiet spot to read (and avoid doing after-school chores).

And while my day may have been filled with an abundance of good things (and things not so good), I needed some down time. 

From the moment I stepped off the school bus and walked into the house, my brain was churning with all sorts of ideas, remembered conversations, imagined (and real) slights and reminders of the many tasks that needed to be done (and by when). By the time, my Mother greeted me as I walked into the kitchen, I absolutely did not want to be charitable and engage in yet ANOTHER conversation.

I needed to clear my head ... needed time to be alone ... needed time to simply enjoy the peace of not being surrounded by a lot of people.

But when my need to share (what was on my mind or in my heart) was great – I watched and waited for the right time to approach my mom. I wanted to be sure I had her full attention – when she was not distracted by the demands of maintaining a home, being a wife, answering the call of a neighbor or attending to the needs of my siblings.

Fortunately, I had a mom who seemed to intuitively know when I was "ready" to talk.

Sometimes those conversations occurred when we were alone in the car ... preparing the evening dinner ... doing laundry. These were special moments for me ... the times when I had my mom all to myself ... when I didn't have to share her with anyone ... when I knew that I was her most important priority.

And then I talked.

But sometimes my readiness to "talk" erupted right at bedtime, as Mom tucked the covers under my chin, gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek, and brushed the hair off my forehead. She'd remind me to say my prayers and end our bedtime ritual with, "I love you honey. Have sweet dreams tonight".

And then, when I began to talk about all the important things (both the good and the bad) ... 

Mom listened.

I often think of the children who have no one to listen.

No Worry Squirrel

A few weeks ago, I happened to look at the tree in my back yard. A squirrel was running from branch to branch. He (or she) would occasionally stop and sit ... nibble on leaves, bark or seeds. Then the squirrel would start to run again, leaping from one branch to another and following a trail that only a squirrel could know.

This was normal behavior for the squirrels who visited my yard. 

Yet on THIS particular day, Squirrel hung completely upside down, clinging to the tree with his (or her) back legs and paws – stretching his (or her) upper body out into the air. 

Completely unsupported ... paws reaching out ...

I had to wonder whether the critter was engaged in a squirrel version of gymnastics, trying to get the attention of a buddy, taking a moment to enjoy the breeze or simply airing out his (or her) armpits.

THEN I contemplated the ease by which a squirrel traveled through the trees ... leaped from limb to limb ... navigated trails on land and over rooftops.

And for a moment (being somewhat fanciful in my thinking), I asked myself ...

"Does the Squirrel ever worry?"

Now I will admit to being no stranger to "worry" – which is likely why I worried (just a little bit) about Squirrel falling off the tree and landing on his head. And I confess there were seasons in my life in which "worry" greeted me when I awoke ... stayed with me throughout my days ... consumed my thoughts as I went to sleep. 

Oh my. The hours and days that were squandered by "worry!" 

Great Auntie Took A Techno Break, Sort of...

I was rather shocked to discover it had been more than a month since I last posted a rhyme. 

Now I distinctly recall intending to make weekly posts. As a matter of fact, doing so was (and still is) part of the "grand plan" for Great Auntie and her good works.

But where did my time go? Oh my!

I distinctly remember spending most of my time at the computer. There were hours spent writing new rhyme, short stories and nostalgia bits that some would consider fiction. There were hours spent researching "how to's" for everything from self-publishing and e-commerce to image editing and file transferring. There were the minutes (and sometimes hours) spent trying to decipher and interpret what needed to be done differently when the yahoos, googles and facebooks of the world unilaterally decided to improve the quality of my online experience. Then there were all the minutes spent trouble-shooting when something on the computer, printer or scanner didn't function properly (despite having done so minutes before). And the minutes consumed by the rewriting of lengthy emails intended for recipients accustomed to reading 145 characters (or less) as well as for those whose preferred second language is emoticon. And the minutes required for completing online forms that promised to take "minutes" yet consumed far more. So much time spent in front of a screen...

What I learned was quite different from what I originally set out to learn -- how to create online products. I learned that I still didn't know "enough" to do the technology things that others found simple and easy to do. It would seem that I have a technology deficiency ... a left brain that goes on vacation ... a sense of logic that is quite random in terms of deciding when it will choose to appear and function properly.

Fortunately, there were also those hours and minutes this summer when I simply said, "ENOUGH!"

And I was glad of it. 

This summer, there were many boxes and bins filled with family memorabilia that needed physical (and not technological) sorting. And each container held memories worth thinking about and sharing. But when I came to the bins containing some of my son's favorite childhood toys, I remembered something important.

When my son was a little boy, computers and cell phones were not so demanding of my time, my attention and my energy.

Back then, computers and cell phones were built with "off" switches. And I used 'em.

It's been a wonderful summer, my friends. If you haven't done so already, make the time to say "ENOUGH!" and give yourself (and your favorite kid) a techno-break.

You'll be glad you did.

See you in September if not before!

Great Auntie, The Tall Tale Teller of Minnesota

(land of 10,000 lakes and several loons)

No Jacket – No Boat Ride!

Summer arrived early this year and kids are having a grand time playing near, in or on the water.  Minnesota, being a land of (at least) 10,000 lakes and a fair number of rivers, offers plenty of places to enjoy boat rides.

Hopefully all those boat rides include the wearing of life jackets!

"No Jacket – No Boat Ride!" gives young readers a slightly different view of the wearing of life jackets. It was an inspired bit of verse that resulted from seeing a photo of a puppy behind the steering wheel of a fishing boat.* The pup was decked out in a life jacket.

I hadn't known life jackets came in doggie size.

But what I did know was a universal truth about kids (especially those who are fearless around the water). In their exuberance, they can forget basic water safety rules. And they will certainly argue about the wearing of a life jacket if adults don't wear them as well.

School is Out !!

School has now been out for a couple of weeks. Some neighborhoods are filled with the sounds of children laughing and hollering. They ride bikes, trikes, scooters and skateboards. There are basketballs being bounced ... soccer balls being kicked ... baseballs being slammed into the air (which hopefully will avoid landing, as they have in the past, in the middle of one of my windows). Small dramas are invented ... games designed ... pecking orders established and leaders defined.

Soon, kids will start summer school, go to Vacation Bible school, participate in community sponsored recreational programs, travel to camp or spend their days in scheduled activities provided by the local childcare center. Some kids will have their eyes glued (from dawn to dusk) to the TV, computer screen, cell phone or electronic game station. Others will be searching for ways to occupy their time (with some getting into mischief) and keeping themselves amused until parent, guardian or older sibling arrive home from work.

Right now, there appears to be a bit of a lull in the scheduled activities and programs of community organizations, local schools and churches.

And the kids who are running around outdoors all seem pretty doggone happy about having some time to play. They look a bit more rested than on the mornings when they waited for the school bus ... seem a lot more relaxed than they were at the end of each long week of school.

They look young.

The Rabbit Catcher

The other night, as I washed dishes, I happened to glance out the kitchen window and saw a small boy in my neighbor's yard. Slung over his shoulder was what appeared to be a mallet with a blue foam head. The boy walked with a pace that was slow and deliberate. Occasionally he'd dart off with mallet waving in the air.

Suddenly, he disappeared from view. On a hunch, I decided to look out the window facing MY back yard...

And there he was – clearly on the trail of a rabbit!

I decided to have a chat with him and discovered he was new to the neighborhood and wanted the rabbit for a pet. After we chatted about the perils of wild critter catching (which included my securing his promise to leave the rabbits alone), he asked me how old I was.

So I answered, "Probably about a grandma's age. Do you know how old that is?" 

I should know better.

And how did he reply? "Well. Pretty old. Between 60 and 100." 

So I responded, "Yep. I'm pretty close to that." 

Memorial Day 2012

The words for a children's "Memorial Day" rhyme didn't come easy this week. And though I filled several pages of a journal with rough drafts, the rhyme just couldn't seem to come together. Much of what I wrote seemed better suited for adults than for young readers. It also wasn't easy writing the description for this particular post – I have a lot of memories and strong sentiment attached to this particular day and what it represents.

Whatever words I write (or illustrations I sketch) seem hopelessly inadequate.

So let me simply say this...

Let us never forget those who lost their lives on behalf of freedom. Let us teach our children to honor those who exemplify the true meaning of courage, valor, honor and sacrifice. Let us always remember to give thanks and show our support for those who serve.

To America's soldiers and the military families who keep the home fires burning...

May God's light forever shine upon you.

Great Auntie, The Tall Tale Teller of MN
(the land of 10,000 lakes and several loons) 

Uncertain Bird

Spring is a great time for watching the birds – especially the young ones.

Ready or not, they've been cajoled, encouraged and/or nagged by their parent to leave the nest ... test their wings ... forage for food ... navigate through sky, grass and tree.  Some of the young seem to move from dependence to independence with great confidence while others seem unsure of themselves.

This past weekend, as I traveled the freeway, I saw a large crow flying in swooping circular patterns. Following closely was a much smaller crow – MUCH smaller. The birds were not very high in the sky and that circular flight pattern was tightly restricted. At times, it seemed as if the smaller bird was going to crash right into the big one! Other times, I'd see the little one lose altitude, drop several feet and appear to falter. Those tiny wings were constantly in motion – unlike the larger wings of the parent bird as he (or she) glided and turned. There were even moments when the flapping of that young bird's wings seemed almost frantic as he (or she) tried to catch up and stay close to the larger bird.

My Gift For Mom

 For all the Mothers of this earth,

And those who dwell above...

I give to you my heartfelt thanks.

"Happy Mother's Day" – with love.

Great Auntie, The Tall Tale Teller of Minnesota
(the land of 10,000 lakes and several loons)

Fishing Dog

Recently, I received an email reminder for the 2012 Minnesota Bound Crappie Contest on Lake Minnetonka. This is the 44th year for the fishing contest! I've always been a fan of Ron Schara, Raven-the-Labrador and the good folks who combine their talents to make Minnesota Bound a real treasure for our communities and families. They've done much to make folks aware of the beauty of our land and the need to be good stewards of our woods, fields, lakes and rivers. Through the Minnesota Bound TV shows and documentaries, fishing clinics, event appearances and sponsorship of a variety of community programs – generations of kids have learned about the great outdoors. What a legacy! When you have a few moments, be sure to visit the Minnesota Bound website at www.mnbound.com.

Now I wish I had a good fishing story of my own to tell, but I haven't had too many experiences with fishing. Unfortunately, I wasn't born with an innate knack for fishing nor could I seem to develop the skill. I never quite got the hang of releasing the line and having the hook end up where I wanted it to land!

My Mask

A few years ago, I volunteered for a local Nature Center's celebration of Earth Day. Dressed in costume, I created stories for kids who made masks using paper bags, pictures from magazines and markers. It was pretty fun to tell the little ones about the story I "read" in each of their masks. As part of that event, I gave each child (or parent) a small copy of this rhyme.

I've always been big on the concept of "recycle and reuse". Call me a frugal suburbanite who hasn't lost complete touch with her rural roots. AND I hate the thought of huge landfills, litter in general and the vision of plastic bags eroding in our lakes, seas and oceans. Which, sadly, they appear to be doing -- along with ending up in bird and squirrel nests.

So let me tell you a little story about my love of nature.

Busy Little Bee

Spring arrived early in Minnesota. In March, we experienced record-setting highs. Temperatures hit the 60s, 70s and even 80s.

Why, folks around here were downright giddy.

As for me?  I took breaks from my computer more often to go outside and simply enjoy the great outdoors. And during one of those marvelous spring-summer days in March, I actually saw a BEE! 

Here's what happened... 

While I sat on the front steps, a Bee flew straight towards me. As he flew, his wings rotated so quickly I could barely see them. Then he STOPPED and hovered for what seemed like an awfully long time. While he hovered, I could see more clearly the colors that cloaked him, his large dark eyes and the delicate network of lines on his wings. 

It was pretty amazing. And I didn't get stung!

Eventually, the Bee flew away and I went back inside to work with a heart that seemed (somehow) much lighter. And in the back of my mind was the memory of how I felt when I simply forgot about the time and took the time to enjoy watching one little Bee.

It was a good reminder for taking a break once in awhile.

  

So take some time with your favorite kid and simply enjoy the world around you.   Maybe what you see will inspire a story worth sharing.