Each spring, I look back at this picture and it reminds me to be hopeful. Spring WILL come even if we have a late snow. If you look closely, you'll see my Dad on the left.
When I was growing up in Lorain, Ohio, my Dad was Superintendent of Streets. That meant he was in charge of street repairs and maintenance.
Winters were hard back then. Once it began snowing in December, we rarely saw the grass again until a March or April thaw. Winters seemed endless. Although as kids, we loved the snow. We built forts and had snowball fights with all our neighborhood friends. It was a great time to be a kid.
There was another side to all that snow. For me, snow meant that my Dad had to go to work. It didn't matter what day or time. If it snowed more than an inch, my dad's job was to call out all the crews who drove the plows to clean the streets. He hated calling them when it was in the middle of the night. He hated calling them when they were spending time with their families.
But we were a family, too. I recall so many Christmases when my Dad would have to call out the crews and go to work himself. It seemed so unfair.
But I learned something from my Dad. He cared for his family with a huge heart and endless love. I knew that. I felt that. But he taught me what it meant to work hard and do what's right. So as he left for work, I knew that he would be home again and we would be celebrating Christmas together.
My mother was a collector of thimbles. Not the plain silver ones that many sewers use but decorative ones she collected over the years. She had this miniature hutch that she displayed them in.
It seemed to me a great collection that marked the years, the people and the travels in her life. She was often given thimbles as gifts. She purchased them tiny gift shopswhen she traveled from she discovered on the way.
I was drawn to her collection enough to start collecting them myself. Over the years, I fancied many thimbles enough to add them to my collection.
My mother passed away a few years ago, and her thimbles were handed down to me. So I have meshed her collection and mine. When life slows down enough, for me to take notice of them lined up in my breakfront, I warm inside at the connection of her heart and mine.
It is International Women's Day. I pay tribute to women all over the world who have made a difference.
Today, I am thinking about the amazing women who have mentored me.
There are so many women who have touched my life from near and far who have empowered me and shaped my life in positive ways. Maybe some of them will show up in a March blog post.
For now, I want to mention six very special women who have been there for me. They have been so much a part of my life from the day I was born until now. Their strength, courage and integrity have shaped me. My heart is full as I think about them today. They have been a gift.
My grandmothers, my mother, my sisters and my daughter - strong women whose lives are woven into the fabric of who I am. They taught me to
love unconditionally,
work hard,
serve others,
find joy,
dream,
enjoy the wonders of the garden,
create,
read with intensity,
pray,
be brave,
live past the pain,
push through the hard days,
find beauty in nature,
have courage,
move beyond struggles,
live with lonliness,
love with an open heart,
cherish the small moments,
be strong,
work hard,
love God,
live with integrity.
Thank you to these amazing women. I am better because of you.
"A writer is not so much someone who has something to say as he is someone who has found a process that will bring about new things he would not have thought of if he had not started to say them." ~ William Stafford
I have to admit... I am a quote collector. It's a little obsessive and I have them saved everywhere - in a file in my desk drawer, on my computer, in my writing notebook and hanging on bits of paper on the refrigerator and around my home.
But this quote reminds me of what we are all about as we participate in Slice of Life. I have read so many thoughtful and well-written blog posts over the years.
It's encouraging.
It's inspiring.
Today, I want to say "Thank You" to all the amazing writers who share a Slice of Life each day.
I have learned from you.
I have been amazed by your writing.
I have celebrated moments with you.
I have met your family, your pets and your friends.
I have traveled to places with you.
I have cried with you.
All because together we have found a process.
We bring out new things we would not have thought of if we had not started to say them.
About two years ago, I was frustrated with my weight and my poor health. I sensed that it was limiting me to a sedentary life with no energy to fight disease and obesity.
My husband tried to convince me to join a gym. At the time, I remember walking into the gym and feeling like the only people I saw there were young and in great shape. (Of course, this wasn't true. I eventually joined the gym and there are members of all ages, sizes and physical abilities who exercise there.)
My trainer has supported me along the way. He figured out what I needed to work on and challenged me to go one step further every time I met a new challenge. The past two years have been a compilation of many small victories.
The first time I learned to use a particular machine.
The first time I could actually breath after a couple minutes on the treadmill.
Each time I moved to a heavier weight.
When I lengthened the time I could do a plank.
When I used the ropes.
When I increased my time and distance on the row machine.
Many small victories that added up.
So my drive to the gym each day is not filled with dread but with an obsession for those small successes. I feed on those small victories that take me to another level.
I learned ways to challenge myself on the treadmill:
increasing the time, speed and level of incline
learning to breathe
increasing the number of calories spent
building stamina.
Recently, I made up my mind that I wanted to try running. I have never been convinced that I could actually run on the treadmill. My knees are not in great shape and it scared me. But, I wanted another small victory. So I stepped up the speed and tried to run for a minute. Then another minute. I was running!!!!
Now it was only a small victory but it will keep me going. I will be reaching out for more small victories as I increase my running time, speed and distance.
So there must be a lesson to be learned here.
How many small victories will it take to keep
our students going in the classroom?
How can we promote the small victories that
lead to an obsession for learning?
Which students need more small victories than
others?
I walked... and walked... and walked... toward running. Small victories. I am celebrating the journey and taking the next leap. Isn't learning grand!
Today is my husband's birthday. He is turning 70! It's hard to believe. We've been together since high school. He was a senior and I was a junior and what we started has lasted a lifetime. Last December, it was 51 years since the day we met!
We often laugh about how we met. It was at a Math Club meeting! He was in charge of refreshments that night and brought doughnuts. For some reason, I turned the doughnut down when he offered one to me. He claims that on the day we met, he knew he wanted to marry me.
The next day, I was working in the school office during one of my open periods. Who should stop by? Dave, of course, bringing me a doughnut from the night before. I thought, "How sweet is this guy?" and something began that day.
A curiosity - who was this guy?
A tickle in my heart - was he really interested in me?
A smile.
We've been married for 46 years. There are so many adventures to remember - big and small - over the years. Just maybe, I will write about some of them in March.
For now, we are celebrating his birthday tonight with our children and grandchildren. I look forward to celebrating this guy who thought a doughnut could bring us together. What a genius!
Time is running out.
Moments slipping by.
Distracted.
Tired.
The words are trapped.
Caged and locked down tight.
Struggling to coax them out.
Frustrated.
Forgiving myself.
Giving my brain a rest.
Believing that the words will come.
Tomorrow.
Each spring, I look back at this picture and it reminds me to be hopeful. Spring WILL come even if we have a late snow. If you look closely, you'll see my Dad on the left. 
