Thursday, October 25, 2012

Making Toast I ask myself what stories I should try to preserve for my family--like jars of fruit in my grandmother's cellar stored on a forgotten wooden rack that might one day be opened--or maybe not. Years ago I was part of a week long large summer session at Green Acre that was fast gaining a reputation for being too sciency. It really was well deserved criticism. I was one of the organizers and I know a lot of it was over my head. My mind begins to get a little wacky when I get hyper or frustrated so when talent show night came around toward the end of the week I had this strange inspiration to just embrace my frustration with all the science talks. About an hour before the show I hurried back to the house and gathered our toaster, bread, peanut butter, jam, butter, little paper plates--in short every thing needed to make toast. When it was my turn, I went to the front of the crowded hall with my most serious face and proceeded in my best Mr.Wizard voice to demonstrate how to make toast. The audience was divided into four groups. The children sitting in the front were totally fascinated and thought they were back in a first grade home ec. class and they better pay attention. There were the older people (some might say too old) who were shocked and astonished. They had been to many a Green Acre program and talent show but had never seen anyone make toast before. The third group were laughing with tears in their eyes especially when I demonstrated the unwisdom of using a fork to spread jam on toast--one should always use a knife (the kids nodded) The older crowd shook their heads sadly looking for someone of authority who could get me the help I so desperately needed. The kids eagerly volunteered to take samples of toast around on little paper plates and I'm proud to say I never cracked a smile even when an elderly lady held a little square of toast and wasn't quite sure what to do with it. The fourth group was my shocked and appalled family--especially my daughters who were totally embarrassed that their strange father could think this was funny. It's Thursday morning--shopping day with Laurel, Samaya, and Violet. Maybe I'll pick up some bread, jam and peanut butter give the kids a science lesson.

Thursday, October 18, 2012


Thursday is my favorite day. I have nothing against the other 6 days, but Thursday I go shopping with my daughter, Laurel,Samaya and Violet. The most mundane of activities,but the day fills me with joy.Laurel and I can hold a conversation and for a moment I am her father and she is my daughter again. We go the new Trader Joes in Newington which is the oddest of stores--everything is exotic. They don't sell just chicken. Their chickens have all gone to High School or at least have their GED. They have a sticker lady who gives the kids stickers. The take the groceries out of your cart and double bag them all the while smiling like they work in paradise. Violet is very affectionate and the life of the party, but Samaya is more reserved. She rides in my cart because she loves the little coffee cups I give her (Laurel sighs but lets me do it). We share the cup--I sip and she dips her finger in constantly. I tell her if you are under four, Trader Joes gives you a free cup of coffee. We stroll around the store talking with everyone--well I talk and make up tall tales. I feel like Jimmy Stewart in "Harvey"when he walks around town in a state of euphoric delusion making friends with every step. We went home and I took the kids down to the Green Acre park where they love to swing.Later on they came for dinner with Sisay. Karen played piano, I sat in my recliner and continued planning the puppet show with Laurel for the children's school this Sunday. It was a stunning late fall day with the beauty of the leaves and the sky falling down on our wandering heads. I brushed a cloud off my shoulder--a light, airy Thursday cloud.