“Oh, that’s cute,” a co-worker said, looking out the window a couple of weeks ago on one of the first sunny days we had after our long, rainy spring.
I’m sitting in my living room as I write this morning, but it’s hard to concentrate. Sure, I have other things on my mind, but that isn’t the problem. There are dishes to wash and clothes to fold, but they aren’t bothering me, either. It’s the lake that’s at fault. The undulating landscape right outside my window. The roiling waves in 45 mph winds that make it hard to tear my eyes away. I love the crashing waves.
When I was a little girl, a few days before Memorial Day, my mom would gather up her gardening tools and a whole slew of plants, and we’d go to the cemetery where my grandparents were buried. Back then she was allowed to plant flowers on their graves — actually right on the graves, not just around the headstone. Grandma and Grandpa loved gardens so much, so over the course of a morning, we’d turn their plots into mini flower gardens.
It happened this past week. It wasn’t a day I was dreading, exactly, having never thought about it before, but when it came it felt a bit like a train had rushed past me, just a few feet away, and blown me off course. Like the world had shifted a little and I’d only just noticed. My youngest child lost her last baby tooth.
WORTHINGTON — Emotions ran high as 200 Worthington High School graduates walked across the stage Friday night to receive their well-earned high school diplomas. For many it came as a sigh of relief, but even if it is just one small blip on the radar of their lives, it marked the end of an era.
Bob Barker would be proud of us. We turned our cat, Percy, into a eunuch. Poor kitty. She had no idea what was coming her way. One minute she’s innocently rolling around on the floor, chasing an intangible red laser dot, and the next she’s being shoved into a cat carrier and hauled off to the veterinarian for the shock of her life.
The phone rang and I grabbed it, juggling dinner preparation and a two and a half month-old baby. It was 12 years ago, this week. “Hello?” It was my sister, and she was crying. My thoughts first went to her husband, Charley. He’s an electrician. A boater. A busy, active guy. But it wasn’t Charley. “Mom was visiting Aunt Betsy and had terrible pain and went to the hospital. She has colon cancer.”
I was shocked this week when I saw a statistic that 45% of Americans aren’t able to name a single Nazi concentration camp. I admit, it’s not like I talk about such things often or enjoy thinking about them, but we can’t let these thing be forgotten. History must be remembered, or else it repeats itself.
WORTHINGTON — Every year as April winds down, Pray Worthington”is gearing up for the National Day of Prayer, which takes place annually on the first Thursday in May.
Many moons ago, when I was a youngster, my mom bought a yellow box. “Luba’s Ukrainian Easter Egg Decorating Kit” the box read, and it hailed from The Ukrainian Gift Shop, Minneapolis, Minn. Keep in mind, I grew up on Orcas Island, Wash.. I had never been to Minnesota, though my mom had lived here for a while when she was young. I’m not sure where she acquired this yellow box. All I know is that, for approximately 40 years, that box remained unopened.