Raking it in

Raking it in

Honesty is the best policy. Right? Well, there comes a time when honesty is not the best policy. At least that is what my friend Ronald says.

It was a cool autumn day, and the leaves filled the ground with color. Yes, the trees were full of color too, but in our case, there were more leaves on the ground. I should say now there were more leaves on the ground. 

Ronald had said the day before, “Why don’t we go door to door and see if we can make some money raking leaves for people?” 

I pointed out to him that there were few leaves on the ground. I asked him who would want us to rake leaves if there weren’t any to rake.

Ronald had a plan, for near us was a town dump. You see, each year, the town gathered whatever leaves had fallen on the street and brought them to this dump and left them there to deal with later. They continued this throughout Fall. Ronald’s plan was to go to the dump, gather as many leaves as we could in bags, and then overnight visit some houses in the neighborhood (to people who didn’t know us) and empty our bags of leaves on their property. Those houses were the ones we should go to and offer our services the next day. What could possibly go wrong?

The first part of his plan went off without a hitch. Actually, he wouldn’t have known that since he had me gather up all of the leaves since I lived closer to the dump.

Next came the part about choosing the houses. Again Ronald suggested that we should dump the leaves closer to my house, that way, people would believe that the wind blew all the leaves from the dump to their lawn.

 Ronald wasn’t available to go house to house with me the next day. He called me up and said he was sick and would be out for a few days, but I should go ahead anyway. 

Of course, his plan didn’t work out. The chances of me not being seen at night were slim, and of course, someone did see what I was doing. 

Needless to say, I was confronted and caught the next day when I tried to offer my services. I couldn’t deny what I had done.

 My mother was none too pleased when she found out what I did. I had to go back to all of the houses, even ones I hadn’t touched, and do their raking for free until all the leaves had stopped falling. 

Somehow my mom knew that Ronald was to be involved, but since he hadn’t been with me, she couldn’t prove it. Mothers know those kinds of things. 

Surprisingly, Ronald seemed very healthy the next day, and he didn’t even bother to help me rake – honestly.

 

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The Rescue

The Rescue

I had received a post in the mail. It was unsigned. It instructed me to follow this path through a maze of hedges to where my fortune would be revealed. What can I say? I’m just a curious soul, not to mention bored out of my wits at home. So I followed the directions on the map included with the letter.

I usually don’t believe in fortune tellers. But this one was different. She knew my name before I even mentioned it to her. 

 “Alison,” she said, “your presence here on this day was foretold. There is much I must tell you, and there is not much time to tell it.”

Her long black hair floated in the air around me. Her face, so smooth and well-kept, was in discord with her wrinkled hands and sharp pointy red fingernails. Her blue eyes gazed deeply at a clear crystal globe in her hand, which showed an image of a girl on a small boat with patched sails floating on a rough body of water. And the girl in the boat was me.

“It is good that you brought some supplies in your backpack, for your journey will be long,” the woman spoke. “There is a castle in the distant hills that you must seek. Within those walls, you must find a prince. But beware, he will not be what he appears to be. Let those that help you guide your way to the prince and his rescue. Remember who you are, for that is important. Now go!”

Before I could ask any questions, she was gone. No woman, crystal ball, and as I turned around, the hedges I had walked through had grown to such a height that I could not turn back. My only recourse was to move forward. 

So onward I went. I lost track of time. It could have been hours; it could have been days or even weeks. I was lucky enough to find both food and shelter along the way. I helped creatures that were in trouble that then accompanied me. I shared what I could with them. There was a large bird, a crow of sorts. There was a snake, who was long and quite strong. There was a wolf and its cub, who were warm to lie next to as the weather got colder at night. Surprisingly, all of these animals could speak, not in any language other than their own, but we understood everything that was said to each other. Truth be told, I might not have survived without them. 

We ended up at a large body of water. I could see the castle on the other shore. And there was that boat from the teller’s image. It was not big enough for the 5 of us, so I was the only one in the boat. The wolves and snake were left behind; the crow flew on ahead. 

It was a difficult crossing; the waves were rough as they battered my boat. The patches on the sails threatened to come loose, but I managed to make it to the other side and the castle. 

Now to find the prince. 

Getting into the castle was easy. The snake had told me of a hidden entrance underground. There were locked doors to pass through, but the wolf told me of weaknesses in the structure that, with pressure, I could get through. And finally, I made it to the deepest part of the castle, the dungeon. There, I saw the ragged princely person, locked up and in chains. 

“Please, you must help me,” he cried. “I am the prince of this realm and have been forced to exist down here. I will die if you do not save me.”

“I’m here to rescue you,” I replied. Using the knowledge I had learned along the way, I was able to unlock the door and remove the chains. 

“You shall be rewarded well,” the prince said in a voice that suddenly sounded different. 

The crow guided our way out, and we made it to my boat. This time, however, the boat had somehow grown. It could now carry both of us across the waters. The waves were dangerously stronger. Dark clouds filled the air as we crossed; thunder rolled. 

We joined up with my previous companions as we reached the other side. 

“My dear companions,” said the prince, “you have done well, and now you shall all get your rewards.” The prince uttered some words I did not understand, and then all hell broke loose. 

The crow savagely attacked the snake, killing it instantly. The wolf then similarly attacked the crow, ending its life. And then all eyes turned on the wolf cub. The wolf appeared to be about to attack its cub, but the cub struck first. The adult wolf never had a chance. 

The prince snickered and laughed. “And now the final task to solidify my plan,’ he said.

The wolf cub then looked directly at me. Its blue eyes were aglow. There was what appeared to be a questioning look on its face, and then he looked beyond me at the prince. 

“Please do not harm me. I saved you in the woods. You know me. I am your friend,” I pleaded.

The cub’s eyes turned dark. He barred its claws and leaped at me. At least, that’s what I thought he was doing. He, in fact, leaped over me and directly toward the prince. 

When the cub was through, the prince lay dead. Well, I should say something lay dead, for this shriveled-up old man was not the prince I had rescued. Standing over the old man was not the cub but a very well-dressed princely-looking man. He turned to me, bowed, and said, “Thank you for breaking the curse and saving my life. Your plea to me broke the hold the evil wizard had on me. Had you not, it would have been you who was killed, and he would have taken my place in the kingdom forever.”

I bowed to the prince as understanding cleared my mind. I was not the bored girl named Alison that started on this journey but Princess Alisandra, the intended of the prince who stood before me. This sorcerer had also enchanted me to forget the prince and who I was. Had it not been for the letter and the teller, this story might have ended differently. Or maybe not; after all, she did say this day had been foretold. 

 

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Dreamland – Reality

Dreamland – Reality

You never know just where you are going to go on your journey. Occasionally it is the same trip, but most of the time, it is a different adventure. 

The sun goes down and says goodnight. You pull your covers up real tight. If you feel that the trip might be a bit uncomfortable, you leave a light on by your bed. Most often, you just let your travel guide lead you off to dreamland and await whatever happens. 

That particular night was not what I expected. Usually, it is a classroom scene or a hike in the mountains. It might be with people I know, either living or dead, or strangers I have never encountered. That night it was different.

It started in the usual way. I had the ability to fly. Where ever I was, I could just jump into the air and fly. I usually like those adventures, but in this particular one, I was not the superhero, nor was I enjoying the view of the scenery from above. I was being chased. 

The problem was I could not see who or what was chasing me. Whatever it was, I was fleeing in fear. 

That’s the thing about dreamland. There’s no script to follow. And when you are dumped in the middle of a plot without a script, and fear is what you are feeling, you don’t have time to process what is happening to make decisions. 

So I flew. The ground below me was non-descript since my only concern was the pursuer. There was darkness all around me, and the air was damp as I zigged and zagged to elude my nemesis, who was getting closer and closer. 

Though I couldn’t see it, I could feel its tentacles as it pushed close enough to touch me. I sped up. Distance was key; I needed to distance myself. What could I do to protect myself? 

In this instance, I closed my eyes and thought about everything I had learned about protection. Masks came to mind. Lately, I’ve been wearing masks in crowded places for protection. Knowing distancing was important, I endeavored to fly even faster, but its pursuit was constant. Where ever I turned, it stayed with me. My only hope was to get to my sanctuary before it could. As I drew up to my home. An urge came upon me. 

Note: One of the things that happen to us as we get old is that we inevitably have to pee at some point in the middle of the night. 

Who knew that that property of age would be my saving grace? Dreamland just faded away. The memory of the chase lingered, but by the time I returned to my bed, it was gone. 

When I woke up the next morning, I dressed, had breakfast, realized that I needed some items from the grocery store for home, donned my mask, and headed out to shop. 

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Recipes for Dealing with Lemons

Recipes for Dealing with Lemons

“When life gives you lemons, make apple juice, then sit back and watch everyone figure out how you did it.’

He told me that, and at first, I thought it was a very funny thing for a 5th grader to impart to me. He was always a joker. How many students have I taught that only spoke about themselves in the third person?  Only one, his name was Marvin. (Actually, his name was Jacob, but I thought I should use an alias so that no one would recognize who I was writing about.)

Little did I know that his words of wisdom about lemons and apple juice would be so profound and useful in the rest of my life. I mean, who makes apple juice out of lemons?

Well, it turns out that metaphorically, I do. Let me enlighten you. 

Did you ever get into a discussion with someone and realize that where ever that person has decided to take you is so off base that you really don’t want to be part of the discussion? In today’s political climate, that happens a lot. So what do you do?

Do you argue back and forth, knowing that whatever you say is not being heard? Do you make up a false excuse that you must be somewhere else and then just leave that person standing there? 

I used to work for a boss, and when certain people started arguing with him, he would just say, “You’re talking to yourself.” and then he’d walk away, leaving the person standing there exceedingly frustrated.

The psychologist at one of the schools I worked in described such conversations between two people that don’t listen to each other as “simultaneous monologues.”

A noted behavioral expert said the best thing to do is just listen to what they say and respond, “Thanks for sharing.” That usually ends the conversation right away, for how do you continue after that is said?

Getting back to Morgan’s quote. The key to dealing with the lemons that are being thrown at you is just to hear what they’re saying and then repeat it back to them. Not agree with them, but say things like, “I can see you feel that… whatever the discussion is about.” 

You know they are not going to listen to anything you have to say in regard to the topic being discussed. So, playback their own words, acknowledging that that is what you are hearing. Turn those lemons into their own apple juice.

This works very well, especially with relatives. In fact, they even go away quite pleased that you are such a good listener and agree with everything they say. Mind you, I should point out never specifically say you agree with anything they say unless you really do. Hearing their words coming back at them gives them the impression that that is what you said as your opinion. 

Granted, you don’t get to argue your own thoughts and beliefs, but a noted teacher in Minnesota once told me as we were learning about being the change agents in our schools, “You’ve got to work with the living.” Some people may never accept change, so focus on those that are willing to listen to you first. 

It’s not easy to do and can be very frustrating at times to listen to others rant about issues you disagree with. But as my ex-student, Melvin, inferred, making apple juice from lemons is so confounding for the giver of those lemons they won’t even realize what you did. 

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Why is…?

Why is…?

Every year at Passover, as the youngest in my family, I always got to ask the question, “Why is this night different from all other nights?” Throughout the Sedar dinner, that question would be answered by multiple people doing readings from the Haggadah. For my family, that night was different from all other nights.  

Then again, that question could also be asked periodically throughout the year for other nights, which, too, were different. Answers might include, “Your father’s working late tonight; we’re waiting up for him.” or “We’re going out to eat tonight.” or “I’ve had a busy day, chose a TV dinner and put it in the oven for yourself.” or if it was a Sunday night, “We had dinner at lunch today, go make yourself a sandwich.” or, “You don’t want to know, just eat.”

This pretty much continued through adulthood. That was until a little over two and a half years ago. Now, we celebrate the never-ending holiday of COVID-19 every night.

The question to be asked is, “Why is this night like so many other nights?” 

“Can’t we go out to eat?” you might ask. And the answer is, “No, there are too many people that are not wearing masks.”  

Another question asked, “How about after dinner, we go to the movies?” And the answer is, “You don’t want to sit in a large theater group where people may not have been vaccinated and are coughing on you, do you?” 

Yes, these nights tend to be all the same. Stay home, have dinner, then read, play board games, or watch TV.

Even Passover celebrations and other holidays, where families usually got together, have become stay-at-home, and we can Zoom together virtually, then read, play games, and watch TV.

This is, of course, not the same for everyone. Just go shopping in a supermarket for food, or go to a mall and count how many people you see wearing masks. You can probably count them all on one or two hands. Obviously, the non-mask-wearing people clearly feel that this night and day can be different each time they go out. And go out they do. Unfortunately, I’m not one of them. Call me a pessimist, but I like to play it safe. 

So I have a plan for tonight; when I’m asked the question, “Why is this night like every other night?” my answer will be, “It’s not!”

“For tonight, we are going on a trip. I’ve packed a picnic supper that we can eat in another room on a blanket. I’m planning on playing a multi-hour meditation YouTube video of an ocean scene as if we are at the beach. And I might even stream the live Aurora Borealis from my phone on the Explore.org App. 

Why not make this night different from all other nights? 

 

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A Mystery to be Solved

A Mystery to be Solved

It started with an email. It said, “Be prepared; you have 3 days.” The Sender was unknown, so I just put it into my junk mail.

I got a similar email for the next two days, “you have 2 days.” followed by “tomorrow’s the day.”

Even though I had put all of those emails into the junk mailbox, I was a little apprehensive as to what was going to happen the following day, the day I was supposed to be prepared for.

I checked my email throughout the morning and into the early afternoon, but there was nothing suspicious in any of them.

About mid-afternoon, I went out to get my regular mail from the mailbox in front of our house, and there it was…a letter. It was addressed to me, with no return address. The most peculiar part of the envelope was that it was addressed in red ink. (Or at least I hope it was ink.)

I chose not to open it up in the house but rather outside as I wasn’t sure what I was going to find in it. I carefully tore open the envelope and looked inside. Inside there was a ticket. The kind of one you bring to the post office to collect a package. My name was on the ticket, and it stated that I had to redeem the package from the post office by the end of the day. There was a second slip of paper in the envelope that said the contents of the package would disappear again if I delayed pickup. 

Well, what would you do? The mystery was too compelling and, if I had to admit, very anxiety-provoking. I went to pick up the package.

When I got to the post office, the clerk there asked me for multiple forms of identification. Satisfied that I was who I said I was, the clerk went into the back and returned with a locked wooden box. I was given a key to the box and asked not to open it inside the post office. I was not to return either the box or the contents of the box.  I was even escorted from the building by a security guard. I didn’t even know that the post office had security guards. 

I didn’t want to open the box in public, so I took the box home.

When I got there, I went to my back porch, took out the key, and unlocked the box. I opened it slowly. 

Inside was a piece of paper. On that paper was a list of ingredients for Holiday cookies to bake. They were broken up by years going back as far as 2011 and ending in 2020. The box also contained a blue Covid face mask and I few other items that had been missing from our house over the years. And finally, there was a simple card, which read, “Sorry for the delay, I forgot to return these when I returned the red spatula that I returned last week, that I had taken. I hope you weren’t searching for them for too long.” It was signed, Herman, your house ghost.

We always assumed Herman had taken all of the things that we were missing from our house. The fact that he had returned the red spatula to the drawer that we had searched in every day for the three weeks it had gone missing had been a total mystery to us.  We blamed Herman since neither Christina nor I could find it. We always made reference to Herman’s thievery whenever things went missing, though it’s more as an excuse for our misplacing things or accidentally throwing things out than a real belief that Herman existed. But now this? 

 

So now, we’ve got to believe that he is real. Unless…because of the way this box was sent and the precautions that were made by the post office staff before giving it to us, maybe there is something or someone more nefarious that has access to my home? 

All I know is that I have to be more vigilant should this happen again. And  I will definitely make sure if it does, that I’m prepared. 

 

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I’ll be right back…

I’ll be right back

It was mind-boggling. How could he leave me alone with that beast? 

“I’ll only be out for a while, no longer than an hour. I’m sure you can handle her,” was all he said, and then he was gone. 

“Now what?” I muttered to myself. “What am I supposed to do for an hour to keep her happy?” 

I thought for a while and decided…games, maybe? No, she’s too young to understand. I could maybe feed her. Of course, what does one feed someone like that? All I get from her is growls and complaints when I get near her. Is there a special diet she’s on? If I try to feed her and she chokes or gets a reaction to what I feed her, what would I do then? 

How about taking her for a walk outside? No, I’m pretty sure I am not supposed to leave the house with her. But what if she has to go to the bathroom? 

Why didn’t he give me any instructions? And where was he going that was so important right now? 

All right, now think, Harvey, your smart, well maybe not that smart; otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this position. What would my mother do? 

Oh yeah, she would probably pick her up. Not if she’s growling and whining like that. I need to find a way to comfort her first. 

I start pulling at my hair and making all sorts of crazy faces out of stress and frustration. I don’t know what to do. 

Wait a minute…what’s that I hear? She’s not whining anymore. In fact, she’s looking at me and looks very much like she’s enjoying my frustration. 

Maybe that’s it…I need to act totally silly in front of her. That I can do. I was born to be an idiot. So that’s what I do. I make a fool of myself. In fact, she even likes it. I get close enough so that I can even pet her on the head. She’s even smiling at me. 

Okay, here’s the real challenge. Can I pick her up? Yes. Yes. Yes! She likes that too. 

She starts whining again when I put her back down on the ground. You’ve got to be kidding. Here I go again.

Well, I have to admit Ronald did come home within the hour, and by the time his mother came home, his baby sister was fast asleep in her crib.

I asked Ronald what was so important that he had to leave at that time in the morning. He said, “Oh, I forgot that I was supposed to pick up the newspaper at the local candy store before mom got home.” 

I didn’t mention to him that he didn’t return with a newspaper when he came back and that he was carrying a number of new comic books. He probably didn’t want anything to do with the task he left me with. 

Either way, next time I’m invited to go to Ronald’s house to play with his sister, I’ll make sure it’s his older sister or his mother is going to be home. 

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It all began with…

It all began with… 

I consider myself a very open-minded person. There are lots of things that, when told to me, I believe. Occasionally I get fooled by those things spoken to me. For example,  I’ll believe a technology piece of equipment can do all these wonderful things that, in fact, it can’t; I believe the person trying to sell me a car or some health plan will work without any hitches; I try to believe in a politician who promises me the world. I get very disappointed when these promises and product endorsements fail to meet my expectations.

 There is one thing that I have never been disappointed in, and when said, leads me to great expectations, which mostly are always fulfilled. And that is the word “Once,” when it is followed by the words “upon a time.”

I am a storyteller and a firm believer that stories are the foundation of learning. When I hear the words, “Once upon a time…” I know that I will be taken on an adventure. I know that wherever I am taken to, I will come out of there with a better understanding of the world and of myself. 

I may not like the story that I hear. But usually, there is always something within its contents that educates me. With each “Once upon a time,” I discover things. This is something I should look out for–This is someone I should become; This is somewhere I should go; This is a behavior that I should emulate; This is why there should always be a “Happily ever after.”

 

Knowing all that, let me leave you with this:

 

Once upon a time, there was a group of many writers. They always got together to share their thoughts, experiences, and imaginations with each other. There came a time when a great pestilence ravaged the world, and they were told that they could no longer meet for fear of infecting each other. This made them sad. 

Time passed without a solution to their dilemma as more and more people were infected. And then came Zoom. Zoom was a magical creature. It had figured out how to capture the spirits of all these writers and put them in little boxes. Safe within those boxes, Zoom made it so that the boxes could connect with each other without any fear of transmitting this virulent disease. And so it was done. Those writers could again meet and share their thoughts. 

It wasn’t a perfect solution, for Zoom could not capture all of the writers. Some were unable to join these groups. Compromises were made. Some groups started to meet on their own, in person, risking contamination. They had a helper of their own, too; she was called Vaccine. Though not everyone was willing to accept Vaccine’s help. 

Another compromise was made with the aid of a third helper. He worked well with both Vaccine groups and Zoom’s boxes. His name was Hybrid. 

And the world moved on. There was a lot of give and take. But eventually, more and more writers got to meet, write and share. And it continues to this day till the next, “Once upon a time” shares a new story.

 

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It’s all in the name

It’s All in the Name

It’s fun to name inanimate objects. The most popular objects to name are ships or cars. I don’t own any ships, so I’m left with cars. My cars all had names. 

My first car was a used car. It was a 1967 Mercury Comet. It didn’t take me long to come up with a name for that car. It was called Noya. As in, “This car really Anoyas me, and this car encourages my para “noya”. You get the idea. If something could go wrong with a car, this car found it. Its most notable feature was that the windshield wipers only worked when the turn signal was on, and the wipers moved when the light of the turn signal was on…start, stop, start, stop… You were in trouble if it was raining and you turned a corner where the turn signal reset. It took you a few seconds to realize the wipers had stopped. And if it was a torrential rain…

My next car was a blue Plymouth Duster. I already had planned to call it “Hoops,” but when I got the car, it did not look like a “Hoops,” so it got the name “Little Hoops.”

Next, I had a Honda Accord followed by an Acura. I don’t remember their names, but I’m sure they each had one.

When I married Christina, we had two cars. One was a 1995 red Subaru Legacy station wagon,  appropriately named “Red L.” Christina had a little red Mazda Hatchback. It, we called “Little Red.”

When Little Red became too small, for we had a child now, we got a 2001 Subaru Outback; it was green. We weren’t very original; it was called “the Outback.” 

Now we have two cars. One is a caramel-colored 2011 Subaru Legacy sedan, called Milky Way. What else would you call something that had a caramel color. The newer car is a 2015 Mazda 3 hatchback (since our child has moved away and we could go back to a smaller car) named “Blue 2,” as it is the second blue car I’ve owned.

With the prices of cars now, it may be a while before we choose to purchase a new one. We hope the cars we have now last a lot longer. Either way, I will have to create a name for the new car. For those of you that know me, how does TARDIS sound to you? That’s a reference to Doctor Who. If you don’t know what a TARDIS is, it is an acronym for Time and Relative Dimension in Space. It’s a time and space travel machine—my kind of car, probably not Christina’s.

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The Voyage

The Voyage

It was supposed to be a short trip. It always was. I would get strapped into my seat, and we would take off. It took minutes to get there. I don’t remember much of what happened from where we started to when we arrived at our destination. But I know it was short. 

When we left for our destination, it was a bright sunny, cool day. I didn’t need a jacket at all. There were very few clouds in the sky. I enjoyed looking at the trees with their leaves of all different colors surrounding us as when we leave our home port. 

The next thing I noticed, we were there. The air’s getting colder now. If this is night, it is very crisp. I need my jacket.

I stared out at the horizon and could not see any trees. The only colors visible were the bright shining dots in the sky. Where was I? Is this the center of the universe? Is this my first taste of what the universe is like on a night like this?

There were millions of those shiny dots above me, and there were two large bright yellow circles also that I could see. One was floating in the air with all of the dots. And the other was resting in the water in front of me. It must have been cold too since it was shivering with the water’s movement. 

I was awestruck. It was beautiful. 

I was picked up and carried back to a house. There I was placed in a bed. I didn’t want to sleep, there was way too much to see and do. But I wasn’t allowed. They put bars up around me to prevent me from escaping. I know the others stayed up later than I was allowed to. That usually worked for them, but someday, I will figure out how to climb out of this cage, and I will join the fun. 

—-

Thinking back on those times, I remember them well. Even though I was only 1½ years old. I now know the trip to our fall vacation spot by the beach was a 2-hour drive from our home that I usually slept through. But that first time…when the universe was mine to behold, it was amazing.  

 

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