A Complicated Solution to a Simple Problem

How many teenagers does it take to turn off the light?  That was the problem that needed solving in my basement this weekend.  Jack had a group project for Science--he and two of his friends needed to create a Rube Goldberg machine.  If you are not familiar with Rube Goldberg, he was famous for drawing cartoons that explained very complicated solutions to simple problems.

For their science project, the machine had to include different types of simple machines, be at least 15 steps, and actually have to DO something. The boys worked all afternoon weaving a maze of ramps and dominos, homemade pulleys and rolling balls.  Finally they had built a machine that started at the top of the  steps and ended with the basement light turning on.  All they had left to do was film it in action.

The key, however, was to iron out the glitches so that all 15 steps would work consecutively without stopping.  Their first attempt was unsuccessful, as was their second, and third...and 25th.

"Maybe you could splice a few of these films together so you can see the whole effect," I suggested.  After all, it was getting late.  The afternoon playdate had turned into a sleepover.  I headed to the grocery store for emergency rations of Doritos and root beer.

"It's going to work this time, I can feel it," P.J. said.  The ball rolled down the steps to hit the table.  The impact knocked the weight to activate the pulley, which pushed the toy car down into the dominoes.  The last domino in the row stayed standing.

"Noooo!" all the boys yelled.  Take 35 unsuccessful.

"Why don't you go to bed," I suggested--mainly because I was tired.  Am I allowed to go to sleep when I have 3 teenage boys awake in my basement?  What is the parenting protocol on this? 

I finally did doze off, until I was awakenened by screaming at 1:30 am.  I stumbled down to the basement to find the three boys jumping up and down ecstatically.  "We did it!  It worked!" 

What started out as a homework assignment for these boys turned into something more.  It was a challenge.  They spent the entire day together brainstorming, compromising, laughing, sharing and working.  Like engineers, they revised their design and had countless trial runs.  They designed a machine and they weren't going to quit until they got it to work.

Now, next question.  How many teenagers does it take to clean up that basement?

The Irony of May



Girl Scouts host the Mother Daughter Tea

Ironic that May is my busiest month yet I told you nothing about it.   May is chock full of activity--let's start with the kids: Katherine's dance classes are ramping up for a recital, her active Girl Scout troop is in full swing hosting the Mother Daughter Tea and her service learning project was due while Jack is busy with baseball and soccer.  Whew.  I took Katherine to her first concert to see Taylor Swift at the Verizon Center too.



And don't get me started on the homework.  Virginia's standardized tests are in May.  Ironically they are called the SOLs  (Standards of Learning).   Just when we think the end of the year might mean a reprieve on homework, the review packets start pouring in. 



Paul knows the kind of Mother's Day Flowers that make me smile.



Meanwhile, Paul's commitment to the Pastor's search committee is more frequent as they whittle down the list of candidates to find our new senior pastor.  He traveled to Las Vegas for work to speak at a conference and, wonderful man that he is, spends his spare time battling weeds in our garden.  We snuck out on a school night for a date this month--had to make time to see an Australian singer named Paul Kelly in concert. 

I have been wrapped up in school too.  Just 12 days of school yet and I know that in the next two weeks somehow it will all get done--end of year evaluation portfolio, end of year math assessment, packing up my room, report cards, parties, field day, graduation...I signed up for a triathlon in August and I've started a new exercise routine to (hopefully!) get in shape by then.

So that's May in a nutshell.  In life's paradoxical way, the periods when my life is most full of activity and adventure are the times when I don't seem make time to reflect on my days and record my memories. 







Something for Nothing

"Hi, would you like a free book?"  I hold the brand new John Grisham paperback out toward the man.  He pauses and looks around as if maybe he will find himself being filmed for Candid Camera. 

"Free?" 

I smile.  "Yes, its free.  It's to celebrate World Book Night.  Enjoy!"  The man takes the book and thumbs through it.  He looks back at me.  No donation can?  No ulterior motive?  I'm just sitting in front of a coffee shop passing out brand new free books?  What's the catch?

No catch.  Just a free book to celebrate a love of reading.  "Wow, thanks a lot." he finally concedes.

World Book Night 2013 was lots of fun.  I loved giving away my 20 copies of a brand new book to total strangers.  I loved the surprised, then pleased look on people's faces when they received an unexpected, free gift.  Something for nothing.  Wow.

It took a while--I think many people hurrying by mumbling "No thanks" didn't believe it was free.  'Cause how often do we really get gifts for free?  Just yesterday I got a postcard in the mail saying I won 2 free airline tickets to anywhere in the US!  Did I start planning my next adventure?  No, I threw that card right in the recycle bucket.  I'm too skeptical.  There must have been a catch.

Skeptics aside, I was able to convince 20 people that I just wanted to give them a free book.  They stopped to chat.  Wanted to know more about World Book Night.  Reminisced about favorite books they had read.  Told me their own stories about sharing a love of reading. 

"Do you get paid for this?" one person asked me.  Nope.  That's OK.  I'm getting something for nothing too.

For more info, here's a link to the website:
http://www.us.worldbooknight.org/

Turtle Girls

I’m guessing the turtle sensed I was approaching before I saw her.  Did she see me?  Feel the vibrations of my bicycle on the asphalt?  I’m not sure.  As I crested the hill, there she was in the middle of the street.  It was early Sunday morning so I hadn’t yet seen anyone out and about.  Still, I worried.  I rode past her on the downhill, enjoying my break from pedaling and rounded the corner past my house to start the loop again. 

I was out early on the bike because my dear friend talked me into doing a triathlon with her to celebrate her 40^th birthday.  I rode up the other side of my neighborhood and back to the hill with the turtle.  She had made a little progress since I last saw her.  “Why did the turtle cross the road?” I thought with a smile.

I thought the triathlon would force me to be more adventurous.  Instead, I worried.  I worried about swimming in a crowded pool.  I worried about biking on a road open to traffic.  I worried about the heat in August.  And now, I was worried about a turtle.

The turtle wasn’t worried.  The third time I passed by I could tell that she had a goal to reach the shaded grass at the edge of the street. 

I didn’t used to be so uptight.  When Kristin and I met almost twenty years ago, life was an adventure.  We thought nothing of driving ten hours down to Alabama—roommates in a log cabin—to teach outdoor education.  Weekends were chances for new escapades.  One week we went camping with only the hats on our heads.  Another week we drank green beer in Savannah for St. Patrick’s Day. 

I find that my mind has wandered to the past and I’m almost surprised when I’m back to the turtle again.  It is getting later now and I consider moving her out of harm’s way, but I don’t.  I feel like that would be cheating her out of the satisfaction of reaching her goal.

Kristin and I were turtles once.  That time it was me who talked her into running a marathon.   We were young and healthy, we thought.  How hard could it be?  We made matching t-shirts that said, “Slow and steady finishes the race,” and painted turtles on the front.  “Go turtle girls,” the spectators shouted as we plodded by.  We found out that running 26 miles is harder than we thought…but we did it!

I don’t know what happened to the adventurous spirits we had.  We grew up, became mothers to our own children.  Now my motto is, “I can be spontaneous with 24 hours notice.”  Maybe that’s why competing in this triathlon meant so much to us.  Maybe we were trying to recapture some of our adventurous spirit—or prove that we still had it after all. 

Now my training brings me to the turtle.  Every time I ride by, I check on her progress.  She started to take on a symbolism for me.  “If she can reach her goal,” I thought, “so can I!”  Native Americans believed the turtle was a symbol of strength and perseverance.  When the turtle finally reached the edge, I felt privileged to witness her success.  She continued on into the grass where I lost sight of her.

My heart aches for the people in Boston today.  People sign up for a race for different reasons, goals and dreams.   No one dreams of losing a life or a limb or a loved one.  No one dreams that their race will end without a finish line.

This week I will run/walk 26.2 miles.  Not all at once.  Not fast.  Like a turtle.  Slowly but surely.  For the people of Boston.

Spring Break Revisited

Has it already been two weeks since Spring Break?  Yes, we are back in the swing of routine and remembering fondly...

Dyeing Easter Eggs...

  

 Checking out the wildlife in Grandma Shirley and Granddaddy's back yard...gotta love Hilton Head!

Thanks to Grandma Shirley and Granddaddy, Paul and I were able to sneak away for a night without kids in Savannah. 

And we finished up our week back in Richmond to celebrate Easter with friends.

Spring Break, I miss you already.  Thanks for a fun week of memories.

Limerick for Tatum

In honor of St. Patrick's Day: 

A Limerick for Tatum

There once was a dog who was stubborn
Thought mom woke too early to walk him
She gave him a nudge
But he wouldn't budge
Thought, "Come back when the sun's up and try again."

Tatum is an unusual dog.  Among his quirks:  hates early morning walks, windy days, thunderstorms and people who cough.

This week I was sick.  The kind of weird sick that morphs into a different form every day.  First the headache that moves into your sinuses.  Then the sore throat and then....the dreaded cough.  Lucky for Tatum, I didn't have enough energy to walk him much anyway.  This weekend I was well enough for a stroll around the block.  We made it past about two houses when I felt the tickle.  I tried to suppress it as long as possible until finally I couldn't wait any longer.  "Hack, snort, cough."

Tatum sits down.  "Heel," I command.  Tatum whines.  I cough again and he gets up and starts pulling me back to the house.  "Who's in charge here?" I think and I try to redirect him back down the street.  He picks up his front paw and wraps it around the leash as if he's trying to take it away from me.  When I don't stop, he sort of hop-walks on three legs behind me.  All this effort to avoid a Sunday morning walk.  He looks pretty silly and I can't imagine it is very comfortable.   I manage to unwrap the leash and, after several tries, cajole him around the block.  Whew.  That was exhausting.  Now I need to go back to bed.   I think I'll look for a Leprechaun to walk the dog until I'm feeling better.

Snow Day: A Washington DC Definition

snow day (noun) a day on which public schools or other institutions are closed due to heavy snow.

--World English Dictionary

Maybe that's the case in other areas of the country.  In the Washington D.C. region, we might need our own definition.  The weather in our area is notoriously difficult to predict.  Or so the weather forecasters tell me every time they get it wrong. 

Washington DC snow day (noun) develops a few days in advance with lots of media hype and large scale projections,  "up to a foot of snow possible in some areas..."  Clever people always name Washington DC snowstorms so we can talk about "Snowquester's" impact on our day, the economy, the power lines, etc.  The hype and anticipation is a big part of the ritual because we never know which way the wind will blow (literally) and how it will ultimately affect us.  Kids (and teachers!) share their expert, foolproof ways to bring on the snow...inside out pajamas, spoons under the pillow, ice cubes in the toilet, snow dances.  We haven't had significant snow in our area in two years so We Want a Snow Day! is a popular refrain.

In the early morning hours on the day of the approaching storm, Washington DC snow day (noun) continues.  I don't envy the people who have to make the decision to close schools and governments in our area.  Using the information they receive from the completely unreliable meteorologists, they decide our fates.  Err on the side of caution and hear the ridicules and complaints.  Take a gamble and risk the eight hour commuting gridlock calamity we got last year.  Usually they err on the side of caution.  I don't blame them.  I'd take ridiculing over a traffic jam any day of the week. 

No school! Washington DC snow day (noun) really begins after the announcement is posted.   Our snow day is a day of sleeping in late.  Drinking coffee and reading the newspaper by the fire.  Putting on the snow pants, boots, mittens, hats, coats and heading out into the...hmm.  Where's the snow? 

Washington DC snow day (noun) is a day subject to ridicule--"Snowquester" gets changed to "Slushquester" and most of our area just gets rain.  Residents recently transplanted from the North and Midwest shake their heads in disbelief.  

Yeah, the fluffy white stuff would have been nice.  But I'll take the extra day off anyway.  Washington DC snow day (noun) No snow required.

I didn't get out my camera to take pictures of the slushy driveway, sorry.  But our unpredictable weather went from snow day on Wednesday to sunny and 60 degrees on Saturday.  Washington DC sprinkler day, anyone?