LensDay: Pink

Pink umbrella.

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Woodworking Project Completed

I couldn't resist posting this here, you can find details on my woodworking blog. I finished this Thursday night. We haven't figured out, yet, where it'll live.

Sunday Scribblings: Town or Country

Each summer as the highway fades in the rear view mirror as we head into the mountains I relax. Certainly the fact that exiting the highway represents the beginning of two weeks of swimming, kayaking, reading, puzzles and relaxing has a lot to do with it. But it is also that our place in the mountains feels like home.

Our cabin in the woods is less than 70 miles, by road from where I was born. My family didn't stay in that little town for long. By the time I was 4 we lived in a small city several hours southeast. But our place in the country holds an honored place in our family history, and it has a hold on me.

In my life I have lived in a small city, the suburbs, and in a small town. I am happiest where trees, and water are the views out my window. I have both of those things in my suburban home - trees in the woods behind the house and a pond just beyond our next door neighbor's back yard. The view from the cabin in the woods is of the trees that surround it and the lake just down the path.

While the view from my house is nearly perfect the sounds are not. We live within a mile of 2 major highways and can hear traffic sounds when they are not drowned out by lawnmowers. In our cabin in the woods the sounds are perfect. Loons call in the night, and the breeze rustles the leaves. The silence is broken occasionally by a power boat, but on this lake those are few and far between.

I am at heart a country girl. The lights and noise of the city don't appeal to me. The twinkling of the stars in the sky far from city lights is one of my favorite sites. I love to lie on the dock, or float in the lake, and look up at the stars, and it's even better when I can talk Amy into joining me.

The picture is me and my brother in the front yard of my family's house in the country.

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Poetry Thursday: Rivers

River Haiku

river of knowledge
hereditary bequest
enriching my life


Charles River at Elm Bank in Wellesley

Ode to the Charles
meandering river
exploring towns along the way
trees bend as if to
dip a branch into the water
herons prowl the banks
in search of lunch
kayaker paddles your water
in search of exercise
turtle basks on rock
in search of warmth
reader sits on shore
in search of solitude
artist sits to sketch
in search of beauty
river flows on
in search of ocean

Charles River in Waltham

More Poetry Thursday
More river pictures in my flickr account

Thursday Challenge: Peaceful

Early morning at Wakanda.

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Sunday Scribblings: Simple

A little late to the party...

I'm in the midst of building a table for a woodworking challenge (details here). The deadline is Thursday. As per usual I'm going to be cutting it close (no pun intended). My goal for the weekend is to complete the construction of the table so I'll have time to put finish on it before I have to post pictures of the completed table.

On the to-do list were:

• dovetailing the drawer parts
• adding dadoes to the stretcher for the shelf
• finishing the jig I designed to cut plugs with
• adding dadoes to the sides of the drawer
• attaching the drawer front
• easing all the edges (rounding over or chamfering the edges so they aren't sharp)

I figured the dovetails would be simple. Several years ago I purchased a dovetail jig. I figured that having a jig would make cutting dovetails easier. I'd pulled out the jig earlier in the week and though the instructions were somewhat lacking it looked simple enough.

When I cut the drawer parts I made a bunch of extra pieces so I would have test pieces with which to set the jig up. Six hours later I had a lot of sawdust, and a pile of much smaller test pieces. What I didn't have was a completed drawer. I just couldn't get a precise enough fit using the jig.

After much deliberation I decided to cut my losses and put the skills I have to work. You see last year in a workshop class at the North Bennett Street School I learned to cut dovetails by hand. I haven't mastered them yet, but I can make a pretty serviceable dovetail. I considered other joints, but dovetails are what I wanted. So I pulled out the drawer parts and started marking out the dovetails. After 4 hours (last night and today) of hand sawing and chisel work I had completed the drawer joints.

Here's one corner. A nice simple dovetail.

The moral of the story - don't overcomplicate situations. Keep it simple.

More Sunday Scribblings.

My woodworking blog.

Shutterday: Moon

Looking up in the Great Hall at the Wild Center (aka Natural History Museum of the Adirondacks). The image on the ceiling cycles from sunrise to moonrise and back.

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PhotoHunters: Colorful

Skylight at Xcaret a park in the Yucatan of Mexico.
The butterflies pictured represent the species which you can interact with in the nearby butterfly house. Directly below the skylight is the underground river, which you can swim/float through. This was taken from the balcony. This shot was taken during our honeymoon in 2004.

Click on the picture for a larger version.
More PhotoHunters here.

PhotoFriday: Futuristic

The Stata Center at MIT designed by Frank Gehry.
This photo is a couple of years old, there is _definitely_ no snow there now (it was 92+ today).

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My Oak Forest

The squirrels were clearly busy last fall, planting acorns in our yard. I pulled about twenty little tiny oak trees last night. There are still plenty for anyone who'd like to join in the fun.

Poetry Thursday: Conversation

#1
It’s hard to talk to you
makes my heart ache
and my eyes fill with tears.

I’ve imagined you countless times
the feel of your hand in mine
the sound of your laughter

I’m sorry we never got to meet
never got to know each other
never got to explore the world together

We meant to, later
After we’d had time to settle
But time was not on our side

So I sit and imagine who you would have been
And who I would have been
And try not to have conversations that bring tears to my eyes.


#2
Skunk cabbage is not a good snack.
I’ve never eaten it,
but once when we lived in the big brown house
next to the deep gully
some bullies made your mom eat it.

Usually the gully was a fun place to be,
full of trees and rocks,
and unexplored possibility.

The gully could be a deep dark jungle,
or a planet far away in the galaxy.
You could hide in the gully,
Behind a tree, under a branch,
where no one could find you,
until you wanted to be found.

But always up on the hill
was the big brown house,
the one your grandmother loved,
and still loves.

In the big brown house was
warmth, and love,
cookies and hugs,
all just waiting for you
when the adventure was over.

For more Poetry Thursday conversations go here.

PhotoSharks: Silver

fish tail outside sea food restaurant

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Wednesday Morning Poetry

For unknown reasons on the way into work this morning, poetry kept popping into my head. I even had to pull over to write some of it down. These are almost haiku, but they don't fit the syllable patterns.

looking at his lawn
grass surrounding ankles
neighbor stands forlorn

********************************

morning commute
river beckons
eager for paddles dip

One Deep Breath: Viewpoint

Wabasha Street Bridge, St Paul, Minnesota

Pausing on the bridge
water glows in setting sun
signaling night fall

This week's prompt at One Deep Breath is to take a "position of observation" and share what you see from your own unique viewpoint. It was hard to pick one picture to write about. This picture was taken in November 2006.

Looking Out

Looking out the window at my office. It was a gorgeous day, and the colors of this city scape appealed to me.

Larger view here.

Sunday Scribblings: Masks

Many years ago I worked at an art college. Each year the entering students were given an assignment to create a spirit mask and bring it with them to orientation. The mask had several purposes - it was an opportunity for the entering students to show their artistic talents and to reveal a bit of themselves.

The primary means of feedback from faculty to students in the college was through critiques. At various points in the course of the year the students would present their work to their fellow students, their professors, and sometimes to visiting artists. In most departments the critique was an interactive process with the student there to explain the techniques, and thought processes which went into their work. The spirit masks also provided the new students with their first taste of the critique process. In small groups the students presented their masks beginning the dialogue which would carry them through their college career and on into their life as artists.

Orientation ended with an exhibit of the spirit masks with a reception for the college community. It was always interesting to see the work of the incoming students and to try to figure out what they were trying to say with those masks. And I've wondered what those masks would look like at graduation time - what changes would be revealed.

I've never made a spirit mask, but because of my exposure to them during those years, I have thought about it. I don't easily reveal myself - I hesitate before "coming out" (although marriage has made that easier), I don't reveal my innermost thoughts. I worry too much about what others think of me. I wear a mask every day. What would I reveal if I made a spirit mask? How would I explain it? What would people think of me then?

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PhotoHunters: Cooking

One of the great pleasures of our summer vacations at Wakanda is having the time to bake bread. Several summers ago our pal, Kama (now an almost 16 year old) joined us for an afternoon of bread baking and board games.

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PhotoFriday: Large

This is Nipper, the RCA dog. He appears on the label of old RCA records, and on the top of this building in downtown Albany, New York. When I was a child I loved seeing him sitting up there. I hadn't been to that part of Albany in years until I attended a conference downtown last fall. When I realized that Nipper was just down the street I made a special trip to take some shots of him.

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Thursday Challenge: Movement

D making his getaway.

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PhotoSharks: Delicate

My garden last summer.

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Happy Mother's Day, Mommy

Me on my sister's first birthday which makes me not quite 3.

PhotoHunters: Five

There were many ways I could have gone with this prompt - numeral 5s from uniforms, or class banners (85 and 55), my 5 year old nephew (who would insist that he is in fact 5 3/4), and then I stumbled upon this picture. It's the same little boy - I think he was about 1 1/2 at the time. I don't know what he was saying although I can fast forward to now and here him saying "well actually" with just that expression on his face.

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Sunday Scribbling: Second Chance

The Wellesley College softball team is playing in the NCAA Division III New England Regional tournament this weekend. They got off to a great start yesterday, blanking College Misericordia 8-0.

Today's match-up against the women from Tufts University was tougher. Wellesley's pitching was not as precise as in the last few games (two no-hitters and a one-hitter). And today the breaks weren't going Wellesley's way. Catcher Kara Wong got picked off second base and later in the game was thrown out at the plate trying to score the tying run. Tufts got help with two excellent plays from their right fielder - an over the head catch of a deep fly ball off the bat of Beej Grundlock, and a diving catch, the kind that makes the highlight reels on ESPN, on the next play.

It was an exciting, if disappointing game. As one of the players said after the game "losing sucks, but losing and having to study sucks more" (Wellesley finals start next week.)

What, I'm sure you're asking, does this have to do with second chances? Well, this tournament is a double-elimination tournament. What this means, is that to be eliminated a team has to lose twice. So, Wellesley has a second chance. They'll take on Keene State tomorrow. After all the work that has gone into getting here it is nice to know that all the teams get to play at least two games. And their family, friends, and random fans get to cheer them on a little longer.

I think this concept of double-elimination could be useful in other areas of life. I know I could use a second chance every now and then.

Update: Wellesley held off Keene State 2-1 in a game that started nearly 2 hours late because the previous game went to 11 innings. Beej Grundlock pitched a great game, and Jenna Harvey came in in the bottom of the 7th with the bases loaded and 1 out to save the win. Wellesley then took on Emerson in the nightcap (scheduled for 4pm the game started at 6:45). Wellesley's bats came alive and they won 5-1. Kara Wong had 2 - yes 2 - out of the park home runs, and took out a loud speaker with a foul ball.

Tomorrow (Sunday) Wellesley takes on Tufts at noon with the winner of that game facing Rhode Island College for the championship.

Sunday Update: Tufts eliminated Wellesley from the tournament 5-0. It was a sad way to end the season, but what a season it's been. Three cheers for the women in blue!!!

LensDay: Modern

Marriott Hotel & Marina, San Diego

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Haiku: Sleep

hotel sounds disturb
toss and turn, sleep elusive
my own bed calling





Inspired by One Deep Breath, and Monday night in a hotel.

See It Sunday: Red

Amy's well loved red sneakers.

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Sunday Scribblings: Ocean

When I was about 7 my parents gave my aunt, who lived in the heart of Kenmore Square in Boston, a couple of cots. My aunt was visiting my parents but the cots wouldn't fit in her VW bug so my mother loaded them into the back of our station wagon, and then loaded my sister, brother and I into the front and drove them to my aunt's house. I distinctly remember that this was explained to us as a quick trip - drop off the cots and head home.

We arrived in Boston in early evening to, as I remember it, the hubbub that is Kenmore Square when the Red Sox are playing at home. Since it was dinner time, the adults decided that we needed dinner. I don't remember what we ate or where. Just when I expected that we were about to be packed into the car for the ride home it was announced that it was too late for us to go home and we would have to stay the night.

This was quite a surprise, particularly since my aunt lived in a very small one bedroom apartment. But she did have those cots which were the reason for the trip. So the living room was lined with cots, and from some secret stash my mother produced pajamas for us all.

I don't remember much about the morning, but the overnight was not the last surprise. We loaded back into the car with my aunt and headed not home, but to Gloucester and the sea shore. We ended up at Good Harbor beach and from her secret stash my mother produced bathing suits and towels. Having grown up more than 100 miles from the nearest ocean beach, I'd never seen the ocean let alone put so much as a finger into it.

I was also deathly afraid of water (I realize that comes as a complete shock to anyone who knows me now). Wading was my limit. Even the best efforts of numerous swimming teachers, and the swim coach colleague of my father's, who wielded a heavy metal boat to try and coax my face into the water hadn't convinced me that swimming was a good thing. The swim coach used a heavy metal boat which he told me was Popeye's boat. He would drop the boat a little farther from shore each time in an effort to get me to put my face into the water. I became adept at contorting my body so I could pick the boat up without getting even my ear wet, but still would not put my face in.

When faced with the tumbling waves, the likes of which I had never seen before, I became enchanted. I didn't worry about getting knocked head over tea kettle by a wave, or about being dragged out to sea by the receding waves. No, for an afternoon I reveled in the beauty, and power of waves crashing on the shore. I leapt over waves, and let them break across my feet. I had to be dragged from the waves, lips blue with cold. For an afternoon I made peace with water.

It would be several more years before I made a permanent peace with water. I was ten when I learned to swim, but once I learned there was no stopping me. The only thing that kept me from a Life Saving certificate is that I am uncomfortable diving more than a couple of feet below the surface.

I don't spend much time in the ocean these days. I'd much rather spend my water time in fresh water. But I do remember that first ocean adventure. And to this day if I head for the Gloucester sea shore I end up at Good Harbor no matter where I intended to go and no matter how clear the directions. I don't usually get lost. I have a very good sense of direction. My psyche just insists that The Beach is Good Harbor.

More: Sunday Scribblings

It is entertaining to me that there is a pulse in the blogosphere which leads to similar prompts from a variety of meme sites. One Deep Breath's prompt this week was Sea and now Sunday Scribblings has served up Ocean. And the photo I picked in response to LensDay's Smooth prompt was of an ocean beach. Makes me wonder what we'll all be thinking about next.

Tanka: Sea

nestled in the sand
unaware of my presence
no secrets you tell
what adventures brought you here
beautiful ocean treasure

The prompt at One Deep Breath this week is sea. Despite living less than 20 miles from the ocean, I do not spend much time there. So, I had to dig into the pictures from my trip to California for inspiration. This shell was on the beach on Coronado Island. We left it where it lay.

See American Tanka for an explanation of the tanka.
More: One Deep Breath
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Thursday Challenge: Noisy

Action shot of an MBTA train.

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Lensday: Smooth

surf smoothed sand
Coronado Island, California

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Moody Monday: Light

The view from inside a small grotto at Xcaret in the Yucatan. Taken during our honeymoon.

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More Moody Monday.

Sunday Scribblings: Wings

Sports have always been a part of my life. My father coached college football, and baseball so I attended my first game as an infant. Fall Saturdays during my childhood meant dressing up to go to Dad's games. Many winter nights were spent at hockey games. And spring meant baseball. I learned to score at a fairly young age, and served as bat girl for several of the teams my Dad coached.

The college I went to is not what I'd call sports crazy. As a women's college it doesn't have a football team for people to rally around, and attendance at sports events is usually limited to other athletes and families. When I was a student I attended only a couple sports events - the Head of the Charles (crew races) and one field hockey game. Oh, and a Harvard-Dartmouth football game, and the Harvard-Yale game my freshman year. The Harvard-Dartmouth game was mostly about the party after, and the Harvard-Yale game was with my mother, brother (a Yale student) and a couple of my cousins. My wife grew up in a family that didn't follow sports so we haven't spent a lot of time watching sports.

I have remained a great fan of softball and baseball. I umpire and coach during the summer. I'll watch softball on TV when it's there, and have spent many an hour watching the Little League world series.

The sports facilities at my alma mater are a whole lot better now than when I was there. Like many sports related events in my life I'm too old to have taken advantage of them although I do swim in the pool there regularly.

Several years ago Wellesley undertook the cleanup of a toxic waste dump at the edge of the campus. (The toxic waste was dumped by the factory which used to be on the site.) Once the cleanup was done the College converted some of the land to new sports fields. The rest is reclaimed wetlands. Among the new fields is a softball stadium which makes me drool every time I drive by, and I drive by frequently since I live nearby.

I've thought about going to a softball game there many times. Finally in March I took the leap and went to a game. And I got hooked. A friend asked recently what my connection was. I don't think I would have been asked that if I'd gone to Penn State and the sport was football.

I've attended almost every home game since then (The picture above was taken just over a week ago at a game there.), and one away game - conveniently held at the university where I work. Which brings us to this weekend. With a pair of wins last weekend my college's softball team qualified for the playoffs for their athletic conference. They won their first and second games on Wednesday. The semi-finals were more than an hour away, but I couldn't stay away. So with Amy's blessing off I went yesterday.

In yesterday's outing the team outhit Springfield College to qualify for today's finals. I had other plans for today, but just couldn't miss this game. So I canceled those plans and got back in the car this morning.

The day was grey and cold. There was occasional precipitation. But it was a glorious day. I reached the tournament early enough to watch the end of the last semi-final game. The final game was a pitcher's duel. A beautiful diving, sliding catch by Wellesley's left fielder, Megan Wood, in the top of the 4th saved a no-hitter for pitcher Jenna Harvey. And in the end it was Megan's solid single to right in the bottom of the 7th with 2 on that led to Wellesley's win and the championship.

Mid-afternoon a bus load of ecstatic young women left Springfield headed east. I'd hazard a guess that they didn't really need the bus. Those women, the ones with the great big grins pictured below, could have flown back on wings of happiness buoyed by the knowledge that their hard work, dedication and teamwork helped them achieve this first.














































Thanks to Sunday Scribblings for the inspiration to write.

The official press release on the game is here.

Thursday Challenge: Fun

What could be more fun than sharing an early morning giggle with your cousin?

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Lensday: Water

The Sudbury River just east of Route 27 last spring.

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Haiku: Energy

Sunday Edit: My darling wife, has just pointed out that this is not a haiku because the first line only has 3 syllables. She is, of course, entirely correct.

hands lift sticks
creative thought becoming
beautiful music

The revised version, which is a correct haiku.
hands and sticks transform
creative energy to
beautiful music

(The prompt this week at One Deep Breath is energy. I've got the creative energy of NEFFA on my mind since the festival starts today. The picture was taken in a hallway at NEFFA a couple of years ago.)

Thursday Challenge: Wildlife

Rainbow Lake 2006
This deer wandered down to the lake for a drink as I was kayaking by.

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Lensday: Flower

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Moody Monday: Disorganized

My shop is desperately in need of better organization. Seen and not seen in this picture - two projects, my safety glasses, mallet, burnisher, wood scraps, googles, knife, scroll blades, dust mask, plans, scraper, clamp blocks, glue pallet (yogurt cup lid), sand paper, hardware, glue...

More Moody Monday.

New Throne - Day Two

If you haven't ready Day 1, I'd suggest reading that first so you get the whole story.

After a well deserved rest at the hotel Saturday night, and a hearty hotel breakfast we headed back to the house on Pickerel Pond to continue our rehabilitation of our bathroom.

Step fifteen: Replace floor. We bought the replacement vinyl tiles years ago for the other (non-working - a story for another day) bathroom in our house. Early this year they made their way to the yard sale pile. They didn't sell so when we decided to replace the floor and toilet it made sense to put them to use.

The entire floor contains 20 tiles. I took probably 25 to get them in. First error I started in the corner nearest the door (bottom right of photo). The problem with this was that the tiles at the end fit further under the threshold and baseboard than the third tile on the wall with the door. Despite numerous vacuum passes the tiles picked up fuzz and other debris so were unusable again. With that problem solved the job went quickly until it came time to start cutting tiles.

Seven of the tiles required cutting - 2 around the drain, and 5 along the tub. Cutting the tiles for the drain went smoothly. I got a little bit cocky at that point, thinking I had this job nailed. It took probably 30 minutes and 2 tile to get the cuts scribed and cut correctly for the piece next to the tub at the upper right of the picture. A few more missteps and the floor was done. The only problem with the new floor - it's really slick. Imagine, if you will, a dog on a newly waxed floor. That's pretty much what I looked like trying to stand up.

Step sixteen: Caulk edge of tub. Nothing major to report here, other than that the directions on how to open the tube need to be larger. Once I located a nail large enough to pierce seal inside the spout the job went without incident.

Step seventeen: Cleanup. Because of the small space all of the tools I'd used needed to be collected before the toilet install could begin.

Step eighteen: Toilet install, part 1. We unpacked the new toilet. For anyone planning this in the future - cut the box away from the toilet. This method worked great for us. Then we cut portions of the box to use to cushion the toilet while we got it ready for install. First we installed the closet bolts in the flange, then squished the wax ring onto the bottom of the toilet. At some point during this (don't remember exactly when but it was before the wax ring was attached to the fixture) Dad called. Brief conversation and promise to call back.

To paint a picture of the next maneuver in your head - imagine if you will one large, heavy toilet with really sticky wax blob on the bottom, and two rather large women in a 4' X 5' space. The toilet needs to be lifted and dropped into place over two small bolts without dropping or even setting down the toilet, without hitting the supply line, and without injuring either of the women. Amazingly Amy and I managed to get the toilet upright and into place without incident. Wish I had pictures, but there was no one left to take them not that they would have been able to take a decent one.

Step nineteen: plumbing connections. (Insert screeching tire sound here). After wiggling my way under the toilet, I discovered that the new supply line didn't fit - the helpful sales person at the big box store had provided me with the wrong size.

Step twenty: Trip to big box store for correct size supply line. More helpful sales people - why is it that even when I know what I'm looking for and where it is the sales people in the Plumbing department can't leave me alone. With the correct supply line in hand (receipt #4) I headed back home.

Step twenty-one: Final installation. Attach supply line. Hack saw bolts. Add caps. Turn on water - no leaks YEA! With Amy in the basement to check for leaks I flush - no leaks there either. Added a bead of caulk between the toilet and floor.

Here's the new throne in place. It's quiet, flushes and refills quickly and doesn't run!

Step twenty-two: Reattach door.

The evening concluded with lots of cleanup - tools back to the basement, vacuuming in the basement (debris had made it's way between the boards that make up layer one of our subfloor), more tools away, cutting up the cardboard for recycling, and packing up all the trash.

Cleanup was followed by dinner and celebratory cupcakes. Life is good in the house on Pickerel Pond.

A New Throne - Day One

The women on Pickerel Pond have a new throne. While Amy tackled the government required paperwork, I took on the bathroom. A leaky, wobbly toilet prompted a replacement of both the toilet, part of the sub floor, and the floor covering.

Here's the before:

That's not dirt but broken and peeling vinyl tiles.

Step one: List - we did that together Friday night.

Step two: With list in hand head to Sporting Goods store for temporary substitute (did I mention that this is our only working bathroom).

Step three: Off to the big box store for toilet, plywood (including some for woodworking projects), caulk, flexible supply line, and several other items (and no the router bit wasn't for this project).

Step four: After selecting the new throne, I negotiate a hour or so rental of one of the big box stores small trucks. Pay for and load up the throne with help. Head back inside for the plywood. (Note to self: when transporting very heavy items, and 8 foot sheets of plywood in truck with 8 foot long bed - procure and load the plywood first!) Load the plywood, with help from another customer (thanks buddy) who came upon me trying to determine if I could load the sheets by myself. I was doing this while waiting for more help from the store staff. With the sheets in the truck I then struggled to get them under the toilet's box which was already in the truck. A little assistance from a store employee got the boards under the box enough that the truck bed would close.

Step five: With help from Amy, unload the toilet and carry into the house, and the plywood to the garage.

Step six: Return truck, and purchase a couple of items missed on the first trip. (For those keeping track this is cash register receipt #3.)

Step seven: Remove towels, bathmat, and basket from the bathroom. Tie up shower curtain. Oh yes, and the door - this is a small bathroom.

Step eight: Empty the water, disconnect and remove old toilet. The floor space in this bathroom is about 4' X 5'. Getting to the connections required contortions. The blob on the floor is me - my feet are in the hall. (A note about the shirt. It's tie-dyed. I really like tie-dyed shirts, and bought this from a catalog without thinking carefully about what a red tie-dyed shirt would look like. I'd wanted a purple one, but they were out. I don't wear this in public, since it looks like I've just come from the scene of a massacre.)

Step nine: Clean - floor, flange - the remains of the wax ring were sticky and fairly disgusting.

Step ten: Cut the perimeter of the floor section to be removed - due to rot. I'm not sure what the pros use for this. I did my best impression of a hapless home owner at this point. I cut the perimeter with my circular saw. This did a fine job except for the fact that it couldn't get close to the wall, or the tub. As a result I had to finish up with a chisel.

Step eleven: Measure for replacement floor. Cut plywood. Measure for drain opening, scribe to tub. Cut. Test fit. Consult with Amy about how to wiggle into place. Cut again (same piece, smaller segment). Cut new strip for next to tub. Test fit. Trim all, cut new strip for next to tub. Lather, rinse, repeat (oh wait that's something else).

Step twelve: Screw down plywood.

Step thirteen: Strip up remaining old vinyl tiles. Discover that some of the tiles are still stuck to the floor, really stuck. Call in reinforcements. Discover just how sharp the edges of the tiles are. Acquire band-aid. After a lot of scraping all remnants of the tiles are gone - from the floor at least.

Step fourteen: Pack up a change of clothes, pajamas and swim suit and head for local hotel. Enjoy room service, a swim and a soak in the hot tub before collapsing into bed.

Poetry Thursday: Together

We didn't see it coming,
We hadn't planned for it,
It wasn't part of our wildest dreams,
But then,
quiet and trusting you slipped into my heart.

I tried to shake you loose,
To find again the path,
I thought was mine,
But then,
stubborn and demanding you slipped into my arms.

We talked deep into the night,
We held each other close,
We promised to protect each other,
And
soft and tender you slipped into my soul.

Together we face each day,
Together we face each challenge,
Together we build a life,
Quiet, trusting, stubborn, demanding, soft and tender
Together.

This is my contribution to this week's Poetry Thursday. The challenge this week was to take a line contributed by another poet (thanks! patti) and build a poem around it. Patti's line was "soft and tender you slipped into my soul".

Thursday Challenge: Circle

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Bridge Haiku

under the stone bridge
paddle draws kayak toward
adventure beyond

In response to this week's prompt at One Deep Breath
and with thanks to Shelley for the peer pressure she didn't know she was exerting.

Sunday Scribblings: In The News

When I was in high school I managed the girls basketball team. One of my responsibilities was to call scores in to the local newspapers and tv stations. This was back in the early seventies when the coverage of high school sports was limited to the boys teams, and then only to the big three - football, basketball and baseball. Where I grew up high schools didn't have hockey teams, if they had then boys hockey would have gotten a share of the coverage.

Getting coverage for girls basketball was a challenge. If we were lucky the score would get into the papers. Forget the tv stations. But after each game I called. And I had an advantage that most other high school students didn't have. I knew the sports reporters for most of the local tv stations. I didn't know them well, but I'd met them and in a few cases served them coffee.

The reason was that my father was often a subject of sports news. He coached college football at a local college and a minor league (what most people call semi-pro) football team. He never made an obscene amount of money to coach or won a national title, but he and his teams were still news.

I didn't always like that he was in the news. When I was in elementary school it was just another bit of ammunition in the arsenal my classmates used to tease me about. But in high school it was useful. When I was brushed aside by the flunky answering phones at the local tv stations, I could simply ask to speak to the reporter by name. This sometimes required a second call. When the person on the other end asked who was calling my name, or more correctly my father's name would get the call through.

Slowly but surely the coverage of girls high school sports increased. It didn't just benefit my school, it benefited all the schools in the area. I'm proud that I had a part of that. My father who was a big supporter of equal opportunity in sports, not just for his own girls, but for all girls. I don't know if he realizes that he had a part in increasing the coverage of girls sports in the area where I grew up, but he did and I'm proud of that too.

More Sunday Scribblings.

Homerun Hitter

Kara Wong '08 hit the first ever homerun out of the Wellesley Softball field during game 2 of yesterday's double-header versus Springfield College. Unfortunately, Wellesley lost the game 8 inning game 4-2.

Shutterday: Miss

A strike during game 1 of the Wellesley College softball teams double-header versus Springfield College yesterday. Wellesley won 2-1 in the bottom of the 7th.
Note: the black oval on the 3rd baseman's face is a mouth guard not a spot on the lens.

Larger version here.

More Shutterday.

Makes Me Smile

Among my many identities my favorite is aunt. I've held onto this gift label for more than a month because every time I look at it I smile. The little guy is getting bigger and this is clear evidence of it.

Thursday Challenge: Colorful

Leaning in as if sharing a secret,
these flowers which will soon
grace my garden with color.
Do they whisper of the nursery,
or tell tales of other flowers,
or simply share the pleasure that is a warm spring day.

Note: This photo is from last spring. With a smattering of snow on the ground this morning it's still too cold for planting.

More: Thursday Challenge

Passover Haiku

Charoset, matzo
horseradish and Grandma's plates,
time for the seder.

Charoset is a concoction of fruit, nuts and wine that is a traditional Passover dish. The ingredients are ground and mixed to resemble mortar. Amy makes three types - a traditional (Ashkenazi) mix of apples, walnuts and red wine; one with apples, apricots, almonds and sometimes dates; and a third with pistachios, walnuts, almonds, figs, dates, prunes, and apricots. All are yummy.