Best Friends

If you had asked me who my best friend was at the age of 4, I would have undoubtedly replied, "Mrs. Cowger."

She was my next door neighbor when we lived in Silver Spring, Maryland.

Our house sat on busy Colesville Rd., not in a neighborhood that might have been filled with friends like the ones I had left when we moved from Baltimore.

My older brothers had each other. My sister was just a baby, so I spent time alone and with Mrs. Cowger.

I don't remember much about what we did, only that her son taught me how to color without shading outside of the lines.

I haven't thought about her in years, until I watched as my 2-year-old neighbor walked out her front door, took a left and knocked on her neighbor, Heidi's, door.

I asked Heidi about it one night over burgers at a local tavern. 

"Oh, yeah," she laughed, "she comes over all the time. She knows where her toys are and makes herself right at home."

Eleanor has all of us in our 8-townhouse section enamored with her. She greets us all whenever she's outside. Even so, it seems like Heidi is her very best friend for now.

Even though she has a sibling arriving soon, I don't think she'll ever forget Heidi. Just like I haven't forgotten Mrs. Cowger.

Waking Up Is Hard To Do

I was dealing pretty well with the darkness of my morning commute, or so I thought. Just this morning, I bragged to my teammate that I wasn't affected by the dark mornings that returned this week.

This afternoon I felt differently. 

It may have been morning number 4 for getting up in what can only be described as peak darkness. It could have been that I was spending so much time convincing myself I was fine.

It could be that with March comes the crazy time in middle school. The kids who've been squirrelly all year are even squirrellier. And then, some of the kids who've been just fine take on a new personality.

Many factors are zapping my energy. 

It's all part of the cycle of the school year. Plodding along through the early morning darkness only means that the end of the school year is in sight. 

Even so, I look forward to the sunrise on March 31. It will occur at 6:53.

Bloody Hell

I got a bloody nose this afternoon. That's not so significant for many, but it was for me. In my 63 years on earth, I've never had one.

One minute, I was heading over to a celebratory happy hour, and the next, I was searching my car for any sort of clean napkin I could find to shove up my nose to stop the bleeding.

By the time I got home a few minutes later, I had used every available napkin in the car console- clean and sort of clean.

I knew tilting the head back was no longer the preferred treatment method, so  I did a quick internet search while holding a tissue in my nose to catch the continual stream of blood.

Pinch the nose for 10 minutes. Don't stop pinching to see what's going on.

I spent the next 10 minutes scrolling through Instagram and Facebook, and just as the time usually does when on social media, the 10 minutes was up in a blink of an eye...or should I say the stoppage of a stream of blood in the nose?

Hospital Hum

There is a quiet hum in the hospital this morning. I watch as my mother rests quietly after her procedure. Every once in a while she opens her eyes, remembers that I'm here and starts a conversation.

"Did Lily go with you to the zoo?' she asks.

I reply with as few words as possible, hoping that she'll remember she's trying to rest, not entertain me.

"I want to ask the doctor if I can get a milkshake on the way home," she states.

"Okay," I reply, "I'll help you remember that."

Her eyes close once more. I curl up on the small, blue loveseat and close mine as well.

The Waiting

One of my secret superpowers is the ability to sit and do nothing. This superpower was developed through years and years of sitting in mass with my parents each weekend. It was further strengthened during all those special masses we attended during my years at St. Joseph's Elementary in Texas, Maryland.

More growth occurred after my dad had his first heart attack in his late 30s. Such training made it much easier to sit in a hospital waiting room for 8 hours while he had his second open heart surgery twenty years later.

Over the years I've spent countless hours in hospital waiting rooms in support of others. There were knee surgeries, hip surgeries, cancer surgeries and so much more. Technology has made things even easier. Just last month I sat with my mom while she waited to be admitted to a nearby hospital. She was sleeping and I watched a movie on Netflix, graded papers, and texted my siblings with the latest updates.

My 89-year-old mom is back in the hospital, nothing dire, just some stuff to take care of, and I will sit with her again. If she's feeling up to it, we can play a few rounds of rummy. If not, I never did finish that movie I started last month.

Can I Get My Hour Back, Please?

I'm always fooled on this first day of Daylight Saving Time. This year was no exception.

Jeen and I met up with her daughter (my niece) in the Bloomingdale section of DC for a quick bite to eat before my sister headed back home. She wanted to leave DC by 2:00 PM, which was great for me since I had school and home tasks to catch up.

As soon as we said our goodbyes, I got right on my laptop to finalize my plans for tomorrow and work on an IB Rubric for an upcoming summative assessment. In the back of my head I was toying with the idea of hitting the grocery store. Finally I remembered I have a doctor's appointment at 2:00pm tomorrow, meaning I'll leave work early and have some time to hit the grocery store after.

Feeling some space in my afternoon, I downshifted my work pace into low gear, plugging along while distracting myself on social media and the NY Times word games.

I went into the kitchen to refill my water bottle, noting the stove clock. It read 2:34. 

Wait. What?

I'd been working for at least an hour. Jeen left at about 2:15. How could it be...? Ah ha! These days every other clock in my life adjusts itself one hour ahead automatically. Well, every other clock except the ones on my stove and microwave.

It was 3:34. I immediately thought of all the things I needed to accomplish: laundry, dinner, lunch for tomorrow.

I regretted all that wasted time on the internet. Then I put my head down and got to work, missing that hour the entire time.

熊猫日

A photo memory popped up on my phone the other day. The picture of the gray wolf was taken at the National Zoo nine years ago. My sister and I had gone to the zoo that day to see the newest baby panda, Bei Bei.

This morning, we were back again, checking in on the newest residents of the panda exhibit, Bao Li and Qing Bao. These pandas did not disappoint. There was some rolling around in the grass, lots of bamboo eating, and lots of oohs and aahs from the crowd of panda-enthusiasts.

We also stopped in at the Ape House to visit our very distant cousins. Baby Zahra entertained the crowd as she climbed, scurried, and swung through the enclosure. We exited the Ape House in time to see the orangutans travel across the raised O-Line that is suspended 50 feet above the crowds.

By around 11:30 the crowds were thickening and our stomachs were growling, so we walked up Connecticut Avenue for a mediocre lunch at an Irish Pub and a delicious afternoon treat at a French cafe across the street.

DC really shines in the spring. Today was no exception.