It's Raining Pink…..

We have a beautiful flowering-something tree in our back yard. For about a week each spring it is magnificent….and then it's not. We enjoy the beauty while we can - and if we're lucky and the weather cooperates the pink blossoms even last a few days longer.

But then again, when it rains, or gets windy……the petals fall quickly. Covering the patio, the patio furniture and our neighbor's driveway and sprinkled throughout the lawn. So quickly gone.

But as my friend from Australia commented when we were together the other day, maybe, since spring flowers all come and go so quickly that's why we appreciate them even more. The tulips, the daffodils, the magnolia trees, the spring beauty…..here and then not here. A glimpse of color after a long grey/white winter. The color that demonstrates a change in seasons once again.

It rained pink in our yard the other day - but I'm not sweeping up the residue just yet. I plan to sit outside with a book and just glance down once in awhile to enjoy the color for a few days more.

His Name Is Andy…..

I'm not sure just how to put these thoughts on paper - and before I start, let me say that I am not using the older gentleman's real name in order to protect his privacy. But my encounter with him this evening made such an impression that I can't get it out of my mind.

Since we moved to Bay View about ten year ago I've seen Andy and a younger man walking together in our neighborhood. I got the feeling that it was father and son….slowly walking together so that the older man (somewhere in his 80's I'm sure) enjoy the day and get some exercise. We never spoke but I knew they lived somewhere nearby.

Tonight I was walking Fenway around the block after dinner. As I approached our yard I saw the older man at the corner across the street by the stop sign. He was just sort of walking back and forth a few steps and looking up and down the street. He was alone. I did not see his companion anywhere on the sidewalk. Something told me he was confused and I should pass our driveway, continue to the corner and just say hello.

He noticed me and crossed the street as I approached. When I smiled and said "Hello" he replied, "I'm not sure how to say this, but sometimes I get lost".  I asked if I could help in any way and all he could tell me was his street number - the address where he lived. So I assured him that we would walk together and we would find his way home.

I made small talk, he responded appropriately and we went down the block. He told me he lived next to Sid's Auto Repair - so I knew we were close. I told him it was a nice spring evening, a good time to go for a walk and he agreed. I told him my dog was lucky because now our walk was longer than we planned. I asked if he needed to take my arm for support and he said "No, I'm fine….not that holding your arm wouldn't be nice!" When we spotted his house, and it was the correct street number he stopped to give me a hug and thank me. His last words to me were "Don't tell my son!" I told him not to worry….that our walk together would be our secret. And I slowly walked back home…..glancing back over my shoulder to be sure he was able to open his door and go safely inside.

But I have to wonder - should I tell his son, leave a note or something. This time everything worked out just fine, but what about next time? What if he walks farther before realizing that he is "lost". What if no one stops to say "can I help"? How do I honor his desire for independence with perhaps a greater concern for his safety.

What would you do?

The Scourge

Most people trying to maintain a lawn seem to "hate" these plants. They spray them, dig them out, pluck off the flowers before they go to seed….anything to keep the yellow bursts of color from popping up amidst their green grass.

But have you ever really looked at the lowly dandelion? This is one beautiful flower. Can't even begin to count the multiple petals. And what perseverance! These yellow orbs pop up every year. For those living on lawns where home owners do a lot of mowing, they may be low to the ground as if trying to hide and quickly flower before the mower passes by again.

But give one an un-noticed corner or an alleyway…leave it alone and just look at what happens! Big, bold, beautiful….tall!

Wikipedia defines the dandelion like this: "Taraxacum is a large genus of flowering plants in the family Asteraceae. They are native to Eurasia and North and South America, and two species, T. officinale and T. erythrospermum, are found as weeds worldwide." 

So it seems that this pop of bright yellow is considered a weed wherever it grows - no matter that the leaves can be included in a salad, that some people make dandelion wine, no matter that the flower just looks happy! It's a weed….with determination, the "try-try-again" spirit and a "never give up" attitude.

Weeds! Poor things - but don't tell this one - it's loud and proud!  

Backwards….Inside Out….Upside Down

What do these men have in common: a rabbi, a paramedic, a police chief, a Boy Scout leader and a police officer?

My first response might be they are all in "helping" professions…..they are all active members of their community….they are all good role models.

Think again. According to today's issue of USA Today all of these men were arrested on charges of "trading child pornography in what federal officials say is one of the largest-ever roundups in the New York City area." Really? Where did these men, and the other men (and women) involved go so far off the track? When did they make the choice to abuse children….some of the children their own sons and daughters. How does anyone ever imagine to themselves that this is "okay"….that they "aren't hurting anyone"….and sometimes even "the child enjoys participating"?

This is another one of the societal plagues that I just can not wrap my brain around. These are fathers, sons, uncles, grandfathers, mothers…..these are our demons. How do we stop this? What do we watch for? How do we protect our kids/grandkids? How do we warn them about rabbis, paramedics, police chiefs, Boy Scout leaders and police officers? What on earth do we say?

What do these people have in common? They are our worst nightmares.

P.S!

Burbach, Zanchetti, Highway Paving, Milwaukee Construction Company!

City History at My Feet….Maybe a Little Bit Obsessive!

When I walk the dog sometimes I spend a lot of time looking down at my feet. Actually I'm looking at the sidewalk as we go. Counting. For the first few year we lived here I was looking for the oldest section of sidewalk - so far I've found a few squares in my neighborhood dating back to 1926. Just think of all the people (feet) who trod on that pavement during the last 88 years.

Now I'm sort of keeping track of all the different paving companies that, over the years, were awarded the contract to create or replace our Bay View sidewalks.

I've noticed Snorek Inc., Milwaukee Concrete, Zenith, Bauman, Milwaukee General Construction, Bel-Aire, Sauve Concrete, Meade, Milwaukee Paving, Schneider…..and I'm sure there are many more. Sometimes the names are "un-readable"….too old or just worn off. But if I change my normal route I'll probably be able to add to my "collection".

I also notice the many different colors of concrete in our sidewalks. Some is almost white and smooth, other blocks are grey and pebbly….I like those the best. More interesting to look at. Different companies obviously used different mixtures. And that makes me wonder why some areas of neighborhood sidewalks seem to last longer than others.

I'm not sure when it started, but I've always had this sort-of-counting-things-obsession. I used to do it on Sunday mornings in church where I always counted the pipes in the organ (the same every week!) or the sections in the stained glass windows, or the beams in the ceiling. I guess my mind was wandering from the spoken word projecting from the pulpit. Maybe it's because I'm a visual person - I like to look at things, colors, textures, patterns.

Whatever - I think I'll go for another walk.

City Mouse Goes to Visit Country Mouse

I grew up with one sister and two cousins. We were sort of "stair step" kids. I was the oldest, then Cousin Claudia, then Cousin David and then my sister Susan bringing up the "rear". (In the interest of their privacy I will not use any last names!)

My sister and I lived in a Chicago suburb near O'Hare Airport and my cousins lived on the south side of the city in a neighborhood full of nice brick bungalows (similar to where I am now in Bay View.) We spent a lot of time together because both families would congregate at our grandparents' home on a small lake outside of Antioch, Illinois almost every Sunday. Our dads and moms to do yard work and help around the house. We kids would play….and we had a ball!

During the years in Antioch we trekked through the woods, ran through the fields, played hide and seek in the next door farmer's corn field, skipped stones on the lake, read books in the hammock, rowed around in Grampa's rowboat and when we were old enough, swam off the raft our parents anchored in the middle of Voltz Lake. Antioch was where we'd enjoy Gramma's fresh pies - usually two waiting for us whenever we came….apple and cherry (fruit from their own trees). Antioch was where we spent "camp" weeks in the summer. Claudia and I sharing the hide-a-bed with "Mrs. Barney" in the middle. (Gramma invented Mrs. Barney….a roll of blankets designed to keep us from kicking one another and giggling to stay awake longer. A good idea that didn't work very well.)

The good times sort of stopped after I went to college - we seemed to "age out" of weekends at Antioch. And then our grandparents moved to a condo in Appleton and Antioch belonged to someone else.

College, marriage, raising kids, moving for career opportunities…..as adults we four cousins saw each other very infrequently. At weddings, at funerals and sometimes for a fun reunion or Thanksgiving gathering. Just enough to keep that cousin connection.

Now I live in Milwaukee, my sister in Chicago, Cousin David in Colorado and Cousin Claudia on a farm in southern Indiana.

In June this City Mouse is going to visit my favorite Country Mouse - Milwaukee drives to Indiana for a few days. Dave and Claudia's husband, Rob, will harvest some hay, Fenway will get to chase some cattle….and Cousin Claudia and I will talk, laugh and play catch up for a few days. It's all good - memories from yesterday and talk about future plans.  Cousins. Family.

What's Wrong with This Picture???

Wednesday I went for a walk …. bundled up as usual because the wind was blowing off the lake. When I got back to our yard I noticed that our tulips were trying! Brave souls…..especially when I came inside the kitchen and noticed the reading on the outdoor thermometer.

And then on Thursday it was 80 degrees inland - a little cooler by the lake. Crazy. If you don't like the weather in Wisconsin, just wait ten minutes.

Just an Education…..Please

Events happening around our world, once again, make me reflect on just how fortunate I am. Where I was born, the parents who raised me, where I lived, where I went to school, the friends I made over the years, the man I chose to marry, the two terrific children we raised together. Our jobs, our homes, our pets, our "things", our together adventures.

I am aware that much of this starts out as completely random chance - which sperm hits which egg to get the whole story started. But then choice enters the picture and it's the choices that my parents made for me….and then those that I made as an adult….added to an element of luck that determined my fortunate life.

Over the years of active parenting I remember sending my kids off to school, first our son, and then our daughter and worrying about things like "did they get their homework done?", "will they eat their carrot sticks with lunch?", "will they have a good day?", "will the teacher recognize their individual needs and their special talents?", "will they make friends?"

I never once had to wonder "will they and their classmates be kidnapped from school today…taken away from us to some unknown destination and denied a future?" All because they wanted to learn. All because their parents wanted a better life for them. All because another adult had the power to decide that they did not have this right….that what they were learning was  a threat….that what the teacher presented was against a specific doctrine or religious philosophy.

It's hard to wrap my brain around this….and frankly it brings tears to my eyes when I even try to imagine the resulting heartache for moms, dad, grandparents, siblings, family, friends.  It's happening again, in the name of "religion" interpreted wrongly, in the name of "me against you", in the name of "if you get some I might not have enough"……in the name of "you can't have your chance at education…..because I don't agree with what you are learning and that is a threat to me".

The things I take for granted….the things that are just "normal" to me….the things that so many, in so many other neighborhoods and countries would give anything to have. The things I take for granted.

Hanging By A Thread…..

Several years ago city crews came through and "trimmed" many of the trees in our neighborhood. I'm sure it was necessary in order to keep branches from growing in such a way that they would interfere with electric and telephone service. When the trees were in full bloom it was hard to see just how close many of the branches were to the lines running through the neighborhood.

In the spring, before the trees leaf out, it's easy to see just how "severe" the trimming was. As they worked next to our house, some of the bigger branches were cut and fell across our hedge and fence line - prompting a "discussion" between Dave, as homeowner, and the crew working outside. It takes years to grow the kind of hedge bordering our yard and he was quite frustrated that workers didn't seem to be aware of that.

So, after the discussion and a call to the City, the workers were a little more careful as they worked next to our yard….and then moved off down the block.

The next day Fenway and I went our for our morning walk. I crossed the street and looked up - there was one small section of a left-over branch hanging directly over the sidewalk. Over the years this branch grew right around the electric/telephone lines and so the crew just cut the branch around the wire….leaving a big chunk just hanging there, swaying in the breeze.

It really does hang directly over the sidewalk in front of our neighbor's house….the sidewalk where, everyday during the school year, many children and parents walk to and from Fernwood School. My neighbor and I talked about it, I called the city to inquire about it and was told there was no way to cut it down without major interruption in services etc…..so the branch section stayed where it was.

I have to admit, as we walk to the Lake, I do look up to see if it seems "secure" for another day. I can't help but think that at some point this chunk will rot and then fall to the sidewalk below. Hopefully no one will be beneath it when this occurs.

Maybe Fenway and I will just start to cross the street and begin our daily excursion on the other side.