I Write - Snow Days

 At our monthly Writing is Fun meetings we decide a prompt for writing for the next meeting. Length is set at 2 pages so we can read them at the meeting. There is quite a diversity of writing. Some are real life recollections, some fictional vignettes, and sometimes there's a poem.

The prompt for January 2023 was Winter. Here's what I wrote. A little true, a little not.

Snow Day– Carol Kagan

It was an overcast and gray afternoon in January when an announcement came over the classroom’s loudspeaker.

“The weather service is forecasting snow starting this afternoon and continuing through the night and all day tomorrow with significant accumulation. School will be closed tomorrow. We will assess the situation for Friday so watch for announcements on TV.”

Happiness surrounded me throughout the classroom. The teacher sat down and let the ping-ponging conversations bounce around the room.

“Kathy! Joyce! Let’s see if you can sleep over tonight.”

“Hey, Bruce, don’t you have an extra sled? There should be enough snow after lunch tomorrow to go sledding at the elementary school.”

“Can you bring your Game of Life over?”

Who doesn’t love a snow day- a day off school?

Me.

As the 15-year-old primary caretaker of my brothers and sisters – 8, 7, 6, and 5, the snow day would be a nightmare. We would be imprisoned indoors in a small rental house while my mother was working – 8 hours of work and most likely 2 hours of commuting by bus.

There would be fighting, crying, toys and games strewn about and refusals to clean up. And rejections of what I made for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The refrains would be the usual:  “You’re not my mother.” “You can’t make me.” “I’m going to tell mom when she gets home.” It wouldn’t be a good day for her either.

I needed a plan if I were to make it out the other side of the snow day.

This was post-Christmas and there were a few new games that were played only once or twice. Okay, get these out. Only soap operas on TV so nothing there. Reading stories. No, never worked to get them settled down. Coloring books and crayons would need to be hunted up from the bottom of the toy boxes or under the bed or behind the sofa. And I needed to hide whatever weapons I could find – the yo-yo’s and paddle balls, for sure.

It was already snowing at a good rate when the school bus dropped us off. I ran upstairs, threw my books and coat on my bed, and went downstairs. The kids were still in their jackets and boots kneeling on the sofa, curtains pushed back, and watching the snow falling thick and fast..

I called for them to hang up their coats and put the school stuff on their beds. One head turned around and looked at me then went back to looking outside.

I went to the phone and dialed WE 6-1212 to hear the latest weather forecast.

“Today is January 8. Weather Information for Baltimore and environs. Snow is expected this evening through the night and during the day tomorrow. Accumulation will be between 10 to 14 inches. Roadways and bridges may be impassable. Caution is advised. Temperatures will be in the low 30’s during the day and high 20’s at night.”

No reprieve there. Mom finally got home and after dinner she told the kids they needed to behave and listen to me tomorrow. They couldn’t go outside and needed to play together in the house.

“I’ll make a special dessert tomorrow night if you are good during the day for Betty.”

After they were in bed for the night, I hunted up the weapons, crayons and a few coloring books and got out the games.

Thursday morning nobody wants cereal. Three of four want French toast and one wants scrambled eggs. I make scrambled eggs and Kyle, the 7-year-old, pouts and refuses to eat. He pushes his plate away and knocks his milk over. While I clean up and get the dishes into the sink they start going through the games spread along the wall. Boxes are opened, game pieces are scattered, arguing commences about who is going to play what. I move into the living room.

“Let’s all sit down in a circle and put Hungry Hippos in the middle,” I say. As I load the marbles into each of the four hippo stations, it begins.

Jenna immediately says, “I want to be the orange one.”

“No, I want the orange one,” Gina proclaims. “You can have the green one.”

Kyle announces, “I’m the oldest and I’m taking the green one.”

“You are not the oldest! Betty is the oldest. Jenna can take the green one.”

“Then I’ll take the yellow one.”

“If I can’t have the orange one,” Jenna says, “I want the yellow one.”

“Okay, I’ll take the green one. It’s the one I wanted anyway.”

Gina leans in and growls, “You can’t have it just because you want it. Jenna can have it.”

“Jenna doesn’t want it. She wants yellow. I’m taking green.”

Georgie, the youngest, scoots around the circle until he is in front of the blue one. Then the others figure out where they need to sit. It becomes obvious that sitting in front of the hippo’s lever isn’t a good position. They need to lay down on their stomachs and stretch out on the floor. I tell Georgie he gets to release the first marble.

“Why does he get to go first?” Gina wants to know.

“Because he didn’t argue about what color he would get. Once the marble is caught then Jenna gets to release one. Then you, then Kyle. Then keep going. When all the marbles are caught, call me and we can count up who has the most.”

“We can do that,” Kyle declares. “We know how to count.”

“I’m not letting him count mine,” Gina huffs.

“I didn’t say I would count yours or everybody’s. I just said we can count and she doesn’t need to do it.”

It was 8:15 a.m., the beginning of the longest day of the year so far.

When mom came home at 6:30, before she got the door closed and her headscarf off, she heard the complaints starting. She looked over at me and mouthed the words “I’m so sorry.”

I took the grocery bag she brought home and herded the kids into the living room to watch the Flintstones on TV, then warmed up her dinner while she changed clothes.

In the bag there was some condensed milk and chocolate syrup. I knew we would get her special dessert no matter what. Snow ice cream with chocolate drizzle.

*   *   *   *   *

Interested in herbs? Looking for a gift?

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 Check out the Herb Sampler on this Blog  

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I Write - Unstoppable

 At our monthly Writing is Fun meetings we decide a prompt for writing for the next meeting. Length is set at 2 pages so we can read them at the meeting. There is quite a diversity of writing. Some are real life recollections, some fictional vignettes, and sometimes there's a poem.

The prompt for September 2024 was Carnivals or Fairs. Here's what I wrote.

Unstoppable

It was the first week in October and Mayville was the last stop for the carnival before the trucks packed up and headed south. Josie and Dylan paid for their wrist bands and went around the corner to the gate. As soon as they entered the smell of kettle corn, grilled meats, and caramel apples swirled through the cool, light breeze. There was a small merry-go-round playing circus music with farm animals moving up and down among the horses and nearby there was a pirate ship, with parents and kids, swinging back and forth in front of a large canvas ocean. Screams from the bumper cars mixed with the midway sounds - "pop!pop!" of air rifles "tink!tink!" at the ring toss booth, and “clack! clack!” of the Wheel of Fortune.

Josie grabbed Dylan's arm and leaned into him. "I'm glad we brought our jackets. Once the sun goes down it's going to get chilly."

"And I'm the one who will have to make the run to the car to get them," Dylan chuckled. "Let's start with something to eat then hit the midway."

At the food cart "Tonight's Food" was listed on a blackboard and various condiments were lined up on the table nearby. The large trashcans were full, and a large brick held down a small supply of napkins.

“Yes. Hot dogs, and they have brown mustard,” Dylan said. “I’ll have two dogs and fries with gravy and a root beer.”

Josie looked at the hot dogs that a kid had bought and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll have two slices of pizza and a Coke. I’m saving myself for a funnel cake later.”

The dining tables were lined up between the midway and the bumper car booth. Right in front of the dining area was a “High Striker” to rate your strength. After cleaning up Dylan walked over, and turning to Josie, pulled up the sleeves on his “Real men love cats” tee shirt, gave the strong man stance to show his biceps, and picked up the hammer.

Whomp! He hit the platform. The ball only reached five stars for Superman, so he decided to take the other two turns allotted. Whomp! It reached seven stars for Champion and so did the third one.

“I’ll take a turn and see how I do,” Josie said as she stepped up to take the hammer. “Oh, the hammer’s heavy.”

Dylan laughed quietly. “You’re pretty strong and you go to the gym at least three times a week. And you were on your way home from the Performance Agility Camp when we met on the bus. You’ll do okay. For you, Superman will be Wonder Woman.”

Josie clutched the hammer with both hands and raised it high. WHOMP! DING! She reached eleven stars for Unstoppable. Then she quietly laid the hammer down and turned toward Dylan.

He slowly approached, reached out, and hugged her to him, laughing softly in her ear, “I’m standing behind you when the bad guys come.”

They worked their way through the midway, garnering a hacky sack ball and a small stuffed lamb. It was dark, getting chilly, and as predicted, he got their jackets from the car. Josie had her knit gloves in a pocket, and he grabbed his leather work gloves. He held up his coat and checked the inside pocket then he tucked his gloves in his pocket.

The carnival was closing at 10 o’clock so Dylan led Josie to the Ferris wheel. It was at the far end of the midway, away from most of the noise and giving great views across the fields to the mountains. This was the last stop for couples and most of the cars were loaded. “Here Comes the Sun” and “California Dreaming” rose up from the base as the wheel began to slowly turn. They slipped on their jackets before sliding into the car.

“This is so peaceful and a nice way to wrap up the night,” Josie sighed as she leaned into Dylan who wrapped his arm over her shoulders.

The wheel went slowly, allowing everyone a chance to take in the views. You could see stars and the moon. Car lights zig-zagged along a faraway road. On the downward arc they could see the midway booths begin closing down. Some of the workers were heading to a large tent at the other far end of the field.

Dylan leaned in and began kissing Josie. They were still in a world of their own as the wheel paused to let riders off. The young boy operating the wheel smiled to himself as he skipped them so they could have a longer ride.

They were at the top when the music stopped and Josie said softly, “I guess it will be our turn next.”

A few kisses later the lights on the Ferris wheel went out. Then they noticed there were hardly any lights on. How long had they been occupied? No one was at the bottom of the wheel or, for that matter, anywhere else. They called down but no one was around to hear them. Everyone had gone to the big tent, brightly lit, and blasting music.

They called until they were hoarse and realized it was no use. Josie noticed that Dylan was getting nervous. His leg was jiggling up and down, he was looking over the side and several times called out again. She sat quiet for a few minutes looking down over the side of the car. She had to do something. She reached out and touched his knee.

“Give me your work gloves,” she said calmly.

Putting on the work gloves she asked him to tightened the wrist straps. When done, she slowly pushed the lap bar away and stood up. Dylan was speechless as he watched her lift her foot over the side.

“Wait! What? I don’t understand,” Dylan, still hoarse from yelling, stammered.

She rested the foot on the outside circle of the wheel. With the precision of a tightrope walker she moved her other foot, balanced herself, bent from the waist, secured her gloved hands on the wheel, and slowly lowered herself to the spoke.

He leaned over the side, knowing not to shout, and quietly breathed out, “You’re crazy.”

She looked into his eyes and said, “I’m unstoppable … and I love you.”

Then hand over hand she lowered herself to the hub of the wheel and then again down the bottom spoke.

Dylan watched from the side of the car as she ran for the big tent. He reached into his inside pocket. The small box was still there. His plan for tonight was thwarted.

But, he thought, “Maybe this is a good thing because, seriously, that diamond is not big enough.”

#     #     #

Interested in herbs? Looking for a gift?

Perfect for a hostess gift, or birthday or housewarming.

 Check out the Herb Sampler on this Blog  

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Just click this link to find it.

 

How to Prepare and Care for Floral Bouquets

How wonderful it is to receive a beautiful florist bouquet whether it be on Valentine’s Day or at any time. Keeping those flowers fresh and vibrant for as long as possible can be a challenge. Here are a few tips to help you. 

Prepare the vase. Start with a clean vase that is tall enough for the height of the flowers and the vase opening is large enough for the bundle of flowers. Fill the vase with 3 parts cool water and use the packet of floral food provided. 

Prepare the flowers and foliage. Trim the stems at a 45-degree angle using sharp scissors or pruning shears to increase water absorption. Cutting the stems underwater helps prevent water blockage by air. Remove leaves that will be submerged in the vase water. 

Arrange the flowers. Start by putting the largest and tallest in the center or at the back. Gather the medium ones around the taller ones and place the shorter ones around the edges and in gaps to add texture and color. Vary the heights and layers to create depth. Avoid a flat, one-dimensional look. Trim some stems to shorten, if needed.

Consider adding a sentimental or seasonal item (pinecone, a small tree branch, etc.) to personalize it. If you need to arrange them out of the vase, secure with a rubber band or floral tape. 

Place your bouquet in the right spot. Find a cool, draft-free area away from direct sunlight, heating vents, and other heat sources. 

Change the water regularly and re-trim the stems. Replace the water every 2-3 days. Each time clean the vase and replenish the floral food. If needed, make your own mixture with a teaspoon of sugar, a few drops of bleach, and a teaspoon of lemon or lime juice. Re-trim the stems slightly to ensure they continue to absorb water effectively and trim foliage, if needed.

Enjoy your flowers!

As needed, remove flowers that are done blooming. 

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Interested in herbs? Looking for a gift?

Perfect for a hostess gift, or birthday or housewarming.

 Check out the Herb Sampler on this Blog  

The Second Edition Herb Sampler (2019) is available through Amazon. 

Just click this link to find it.

I Write - Hope is Growing

 At our monthly Writing is Fun meetings we decide a prompt for writing for the next meeting. Length is set at 2 pages so we can read them at the meeting. There is quite a diversity of writing. Some are real life recollections, some fictional vignettes, and sometimes there's a poem.

The prompt for January 2025 was New Beginnings. Here's what I wrote.

Hope is Growing - Carol Kagan

Hadrian's Wall, built in 122 A.D. on Emperor Hadrian's order to hold out Roman challengers, is considered an historical marker celebrating the fierceness of the Scots to prevent a Roman foothold in what is now Scotland. It is a symbol of strength that has withstood the test of time.

John Clayton’s family bought property that fell across the Wall. The family's mansion house included a Roman fort in its front garden and his early exposure to the historic site ignited a lifelong passion for archaeology and preservation. As he grew older he used his wealth and influence to preserve this important piece of history for future generations.

It was early morning in 1873 when John carried the sycamore maple sapling to Hadrian’s Wall to plant. His eyes followed the rugged stone wall riding the ridge of the rolling landscape as he recalled the first time his father brought him here at age four. They sat in the sun and enjoyed their time together. He was enchanted by the natural beauty and sense of serenity he felt.

  Quite simply it was a single sapling planted in the open, sunny curve between two small hillsides, a curve that was much like the waist of a beautiful woman. The sapling was a thin, short sliver of wood, planted to be a landscape feature, a tree that would thrive in the open sun and withstand the winds across the moors.

In the dramatic gap, sitting next to the ancient Roman wall, the tree stretched upward, growing bit by bit each year. Its broad, rounded crown carried by three large branches with smaller, gnarled ones reaching out above the weathered trunk. The sky spread wide from breaking sunrise to golden sunset over the open Northumberland landscape. This tree, well-known for its beauty, resilience, and adaptability became an iconic symbol in the landscape luring many to the site. Its striking presence captured the hearts of many visitors and photographers, and it became known as the Sycamore Gap Tree.

Cameras were a common sight at the tree, documenting marriage proposals, weddings, family photos of celebrations and the like. Tourists and researchers moved along the wall and stopped at the tree. The site was popular among astrophotographers and stargazers with a full view of the open sky . Movie cameras and the accompanying equipment met there to record movie scenes such as in a 1991 Robin Hood movie, earning it the nickname of the Robin Hood Tree. It became one of the most photographed trees in England and won the 2016 England Tree of the Year award. By 2023 it was 150 years old and 49 feet tall.

It was September 27, 2023, when Alice Whysall hiked down the path and took a photo of it at twilight. The next day Catherine Cape, a local resident, was hiking along the wall and discovered the tree had been cut down. A large stump remained, and the tree was laying across the Wall. The local communities were devastated and as the news spread well beyond Northumberland, many people shared memories about the tree. It became obvious that the Sycamore Gap Tree was more than a landscape feature or historic marker - it had deep emotional and cultural significance for many people.

Local law enforcement arrived at the scene to address the vandalism. They secured the area and began their investigation by gathering evidence to identify who was responsible. In questioning those in the community locals provided important information but also shared their emotional connections to the tree.

Evidence at the scene was examined by forensic officers who took samples and measurements and were heard saying “in 31 years I’ve never examined a tree.” The tree appeared to have been cut with a chainsaw and the characteristics of  the cut indicated it had been done by someone with considerable skill. Material collected from the scene included the tree trunk which had to be cut into smaller pieces in order to be moved out by crane. It was stored in a secret location to protect it from souvenir hunters.

The National Trust, which looks after the site, stepped in to address the situation. They immediately collected seeds and branch cuttings that showed signs of growth from the felled tree. As the Trust began to consider what to do with the tree remains, and the now barren site, great consideration was given to what the Sycamore Gap Tree meant to so many people.

A New Beginning

The National Trust committed to ensuring that the legacy of the Sycamore Gap Tree  would live on. The Trust grew 49 saplings in a rare plant propagation nursery from the seeds collected. They represent the 49 feet height of the tree and are part of the "Trees of Hope" initiative to be planted in publicly accessible spaces.

In 2024, to mark the first anniversary of the tree's felling, the National Trust began accepting applications for one of the 49 Sycamore Gap saplings.  “Each sapling will carry a message of hope with it as it starts a new chapter not just for the tree but for the 49 people and communities that will receive a sapling next year.”

The Trust has advised visitors to treat the stump at the current site with “respect.” Eight new shoots have emerged from the remaining stump. It will take several years to find out if the tree may regrow although it will not be the same as the original single trunk.

Many different projects have been developed using the remains of the tree.

Prints have been created from a cross-section of the heart-shaped trunk. An artist created four wooden panels and the lengths of them when combined equal the 49 foot tree height. Each panel represents a season, and a trunk piece sits with the autumn panel relating to the season it was cut. The summer panel is filled with white paper sycamore-shaped leaves painted by school children at workshops.

The legacy has spread as prints of an artist’s painting of the tree are sold with proceeds funding the planting of trees at a local public estate in an effort to produce a new woodland to revive the area. 

The Sycamore Gap Tree has found many new beginnings and, perhaps, in another 150 years it will have brought communities together and hosted milestones for people multiplied by 49. 

#     #     #

Interested in herbs? Looking for a gift?

Perfect for a hostess gift, or birthday or housewarming.

 Check out the Herb Sampler on this Blog  

The Second Edition Herb Sampler (2019) is available through Amazon. 

Just click this link to find it.