FOOLHARDY SQUIRRELS

“Hey Alex!” I called to my son as I walked toward his room. “I found out why the squirrels keep jumping out in front of our car lately!”

For the past few weeks we've had to play chicken with crazy squirrels as they darted out into the middle of the road. Clearly they're indecisiveness doesn't make it an easy game to play with them.

Alex came to his door. “Why?”

I held up my phone. “It's mating season!”

“In December?” Alex leaned against his door jam.

I looked back on my phone. “Says here that they have two litters a year. This one will be born in spring.” I looked up at him. “I guess the females are playing hard-to-get.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “Or the girls aren't too happy with who's chasing them.”

I thought about that for a second, then nodded in agreement. “That's true.” I walked over to his window to look up at our leafless oak tree. Up at the very top was a squirrel's nest swaying in the wind. “Or maybe they don't want to be pregnant through the winter, clinging on for dear life as their house gets blown around in a winter storm.”

Alex came over next to me to look up at the tree. “Or maybe you give them way too much credit considering the size of their tiny brains.”

“Hey!” but I had to laugh. “They're actually pretty intelligent! We've both watched them figure out ways to get into my bird feeders!” I looked over at him. “And remember last year when the Cooper hawk was in our back woods? We watched that mom squirrel carry all of her babies to another nest two houses away!”

Alex nodded as he looked back up in the trees. “That's true but it sure seems like their road skills could use a little help. I mean really! Just pick a side! This darting to the left then faking to the right just gets you hit!”

I looked back to my phone. “You know the site I was on actually explained that. It says they're hard wired to do that so they can confuse their predators.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I kind of get it now. A little zigging and zagging would confuse a hawk.”

Alex looked over at me. “Yeah, well they might want to start evolving their hard wired instincts, adding cars into the mix.”

We watched out Alex's window as a car came down our street. A squirrel from our yard darted out in front of the car, stopped midway across, froze for a second before darting back to our yard.

“OHHH!” we both called out as the car barely missed the squirrel.

I looked over at Alex. “Seriously! What was the reason for that!”

Alex looked impressed. “Hey, he missed getting squished by an inch!” Alex looked over at me. “Maybe he's practicing trying to add cars to his hard wired instincts.”

I had to laugh. “Now who's giving them way too much credit?”

1940's CHRISTMAS

Fort Hancock was once a bustling Army base at the end of Sandy Hook NJ. Its whole purpose was to protect the New York Harbor during the World Wars. During World War II the population at the Fort was between 7,000 to 12,000 soldiers. This piece takes place at Fort Hancock which is now an historic landmark.

My girlfriend, Kathy sent me a text that one of the houses on Officers Row was going to be decorated in the 1940's era when the fort was at it's busiest. I was in!

The day of the event I swung by her house to picked her up. It was a foggy, drizzly day but we were both still excited to go.

“I've always wanted to get into one of the houses out there.” I said as we drove through the entrance of the park and started the long drive out to the Fort. Sand dunes were on each side of us as we passed the empty parking lots that, in the summer, would be packed with cars.

We parked the car and began walking along Officers Row. “Can you image living out here?” I asked as I pulled my collar up higher and braced myself from the wind whipping across the Raritan Bay.

“Not in the winter I can't!” Kathy said as we both climbed up the front steps.

Once we stepped through the door I began to feel as if I was being taken back to a different time. Men and women dressed in uniform from the 40's were stationed in every room ready to answer our questions.

Kathy and I went into the living room where the Christmas tree stood. The furnishings were from the 1940's, but instead of feeling like we'd just stepped into a museum I was really feeling like I was a little girl again who'd just stepped into my great Aunt's house!

“I think we had one of those.” I whispered as I pointed to side table.

We walked through the dining room and into the butler's pantry. It was stocked with so many familiar containers of spices and food items that I was beginning to feel old. I pointed to the apple slicer. “We had one of those too.” I sighed.

Another guest leaned over and said. “I feel like I could go into my kitchen right now and bring some things over here to add to their collection.”

Kathy and I both nodded in agreement.

We moved on to the kitchen. Kathy picked up an old potato masher. “Oh my gosh! I still have one of those!” I cried.

“Me too.” Kathy said as she put it back down on the table.

We moved upstairs where the nursery and other bedrooms were. We were greeted by a young gentleman dressed in 1940's uniform. He began explaining to us a little bit more of what it was like to live out on the peninsula.

“How bad was it in the winter?” I asked.

“It was bad enough that they used to nail the front doors shut when the wind kicked up and it snowed.”

Kathy and I just shook our heads. “It doesn't sound like much fun.”

“Oh, they had fun.” The officer explained. “They were still ballroom dancing then. In fact, you couldn't graduate West Point without taking ballroom dancing classes.”

I looked over at Kathy. “I had no idea! Did you?”

Kathy shook her head. “I've never heard of that.”

Our officer went on to explain some more about life in the 40's.

Another group came up the stairs and we wanted our officer friend to share his stories with them. Thanking him we went back down the stairs admiring the woodwork and small details you wouldn't expect to see in military housing.

Back out on the front steps I wanted to stop and admire the view they had from their front porch. Picturing them sitting in rocking chairs looking out over the Raritan Bay. But the wind had picked up and it was back to drizzling again so instead we hurried back to the car ready to enjoy the view from the warmth of the car.

A WHIRL OF STARLINGS

I was standing in front of the kitchen window looking out at our bird feeders when my son Alex came into the room.

“What are you looking at?” he asked as passed by me to go feed our beta fish Bubba.

“Remember how we both kept forgetting to fill the bird feeders this week?”

Alex picked up the small container of fish food and shook it in front of the tank. Bubba saw the container and swam out of his pineapple house and up to the top of the tank. “Of yeah, I'll fill them when I'm done here.”

“Don't worry, I filled them this morning.” I looked over at Alex as he dropped the pellets into the tank and closed the lid.

“Remember how I was complaining that without the feeders I wasn't see any birds at all?” I stepped out of his way as he headed to the sink to wash his hands.

Alex nodded his head yes as he turned on the water and reached over to get some liquid hand soap. “And I said the reason you weren't seeing any birds wasn't because of the empty feeders but because most of the birds had already flown south for the winter.” He took his soapy hands and began rinsing them off.

I pointed out the window. “I think I was the one who was right.”

Alex looked out at our back yard filled hundreds of starlings. Their black iridescent feathers catching the sunlight in such a way that they were really beautiful to watch as they swung from the feeders and covered the ground underneath.

“WOW!” Alex shook his head in disbelief. He turned off the water and reached for a paper towel. “I've never seem so many birds in one spot!”

“Starlings are pretty social birds, they like hanging out in big groups. But I've never seen this many at once.” I walked over to the back door. “Watch this.” I opened the door and the sound startled them, causing the hundreds of grackles to lift off at once swooping into the nearby trees. I stepped outside looking at the limbs of the trees filled with the birds. I looked back at Alex and smiled.

“Why'd you scare them like that?” Alex sounded annoyed as he dropped his paper towel in the garbage.

“Hey, it isn't the first time I've done it.” I closed the door and stepped over to the window next to him again. “Just wait.” I said.

We looked out the window and within seconds they were all back down on the ground eating again.

“See? They're all happy again.” I said.

Alex looked confused. “I still don't get it. Why did you want them to fly away, then come back?”

I looked over at Alex. “Because it fascinates me. Did you notice that even when they were startled they all flew as a group. Not one crashing into another.” I shook my head and sighed. “It just amazes me.” I looked back out the window. “Could you imagine that many people all in one place and something startling them?” I looked back over to Alex and pointed out the window. “It wouldn't be a beautifully orchestrated flight like we just saw, I can tell you that! It would be total mayhem! I can't even get down the aisle of the grocery store without someone bumping into my cart.”

Alex shook his head and laughed as he patted me on the shoulder. “You really do think of the weirdest things.”

CALM

The Christmas tree was up and some gifts were already wrapped and under the tree. I scanned the room looking to see what was next.

My husband Steven came into the room. “What are you looking for?” he asked as he scanned the room with me.

“What to do next.” I said as I walked into the kitchen and took a pad and pen out of the drawer. “I have to start my lists!” I held up the pad and pen for him to see. “You know, having a nice Christmas isn't magical!” I sat at the dining room table. “It's a lot of work! I need to be organized, making lists to make sure everything gets done!”

Steven came over and stood next to me. “You know Christmas is weeks away.” He looked over my shoulder to see what I was writing. “You're writing the menus for Christmas breakfast?” he started to laugh.

“Hey! You'll thank me when you have hash browns, bacon, eggs and croissants on Christmas morning!”

My son Alex walked into the room. “We're having hash browns, bacon and eggs Christmas morning?”

“Don't forget the croissants.” Steven reminded him.

“See, that's exactly why I make lists.” I ripped the page from the pad. “Okay that's done. What's on the dinner menu?”

Steven shook his head as he walked past Alex and patted him on the shoulder. “I'm leaving this one to you.”

Alex nodded than sat down across from me at the table. “When was the last time you meditated?” he asked.

“What?” I shook my head. “I don't have time to meditate! It's days before Christmas!”

“You're acting like you've had six cups of tea.”

“I only had two.” I shot back.

“You're never going to enjoy the holidays if you keep up this pace.”

I sighed. “I know, but I just don't have time to meditate.”

“It's ten minutes.” Alex picked up my phone and pointed to the meditation app I'd downloaded over the summer. “Ten minutes.” he said again.

“Fine.” I sighed. “I'll meditate.” I took my phone and grabbed my earbuds, then headed to my bedroom. I laid on my bed and put my earbuds in then tapped on my meditation app. The soothing female voice welcomed me as the sounds of burbling water and birds could be heard in the background.

I listened as she told me to follow my breath, explaining why I needed to clear my head of daily struggles. I smiled as I closed my eyes and fell further and further into the pillows of my bed.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on my door. I opened my eyes to see Alex standing in the doorway. “How was the meditation?” he asked. “Do you do two of them?”

I sat up pulling, the earbuds out of my ears. “I'm not sure I'd call it meditation.” I stood up and did a quick stretch. “I'm pretty sure I just took a nap.”

“Meditation, nap.” Alex laughed as he shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn't matter what you call it as long as you feel better. Right?”

“I do feel better.” I said I put my hand up to my mouth, covering a small yawn. “I might actually do another one a little later.”

THE GIFT OF GLITTER

I was sitting at the dining room table writing out my Christmas cards when my son Alex walked by.

“Glitter!” he cried. “Are you kidding me?”

I looked next to the envelope that I'd been addressing. The card had a picture of Santa getting ready to go down the chimney, slung over his shoulder was his toy sack filled with wrapped gifts. The entire edge of the card was covered with gold glitter.

I smiled as I went back to addressing the envelope. “Isn't glitter fun!”

“No.” Alex shook his head. “It's not.”

My husband Steven walked in the room. Alex looked over at him. “Didn't we talk about this last year?” he asked.

Steven looked confused. Alex pointed to the cards on the table.

“Oh, yeah. I thought we said no glitter this year.” Steven said.

“Exactly!” Alex added.

I stopped writing for a second and looked at both of them. “I never agreed to that. When I get the mail this season I'm hoping it's filled with sparkly pretty cards.” I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand.

“See that's exactly my point!” Alex cried as he pointed to my nose. “Your face is covered in glitter now!”

I rubbed my nose again.

“Nope.” Alex shook his head. “You just put more glitter on.”

“It's fine.” I said as I blew some glitter off the table.

Alex looked at the chair that was in the direction of where I'd blown the glitter. It happened to be where he usually sat at dinner. “Great. My butt's going to be covered in glitter for another year.” he sighed.

“Oh, come on!” I got up and went over to his chair. Sure enough there was glitter on it. “Okay, fine.” I brushed it off. “Is that better?”

Alex shook his head. “You know we're going to be finding glitter on us until Easter.”

“Now you're just exaggerating.” I said as I went back to addressing my envelopes.

Steven sat down at the table and looked at the address book I was working from. “Remember a few years ago when everyone thought it would be fun to add confetti to an invitation?”

“Oh my gosh! I forgot about those!” I looked up from my writing and looked over at Alex. “You'd open the envelope and along with an invitation to the birthday party a handful of confetti would spill out!” I had to laugh. “'Please come to my party and now go vacuum your living room to remember me!'” I looked over at Steven. “Those invitations didn't last long.”

“No, they didn't.” He looked down at my Christmas cards. “That's exactly how we feel about glitter.”

“Wait! Glitter is timeless!”

“Not to us it isn't.”

Alex sat down next to him. I was beginning to feel like I was in the middle of a glitter intervention.

“Maybe you walking around with a few specks of glitter on you might seem cute but guys aren't thrilled with looking sparkly.” Alex explained.

I looked over at him and was afraid to tell him he already had a few specks on him. “You're right. Next year no glitter.” I promised.

“Good I'm glad we had this talk.” Steven said as he got up along with Alex to go into the living room.

I couldn't help but smile as I watched them both walk away with little gold specks of glitter shimmering on the back of their jeans.

WINDY WORK

I was sitting in a rocker on our front porch, my face tilted up to the sun when my son Alex came outside.

“Aren't you cold?” he asked as he sat in the rocker next to me.

I pulled the zipper of my sweatshirt up closer to my neck. “It's not so bad in the sun.” I answered as a gust of wind blew my hair in front of my face. “I want to be able to spend every second in the sun before it gets too cold outside and I'm stuck sitting in the house wishing for spring.” I reached up ready to pull my hair back in a ponytail when I realized by doing that my ears and neck would get too cold. So I reached back and grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt, tucked my hair inside and pulled the strings tight so that no hair could escape. “There. That's better.” I said as I leaned back in the rocker.

Just then an even bigger gust of wind came up and we watched hundreds of leaves begin twirling and tumbling down the street. I pointed to the leaves in the street. “I've just spent the last few seconds trying to think of the right words to describe the sound they're making right now.” I looked over at Alex. “What would you say? Is it scratching against the pavement or maybe the word rustling is a better fit.” I shook my head. “But rustling is more of a muffled sound.” I looked over at Alex. “What do you think?”

Alex laughed. “You know what I think? I've got the perfect word to describe it. Work!”

I tucked a stray hair back into my hood. “Work?”

Alex pointed down the street. “See all those nice big pile of leaves all our neighbors have put out to the curb?”

“Yeah.” I was confused.

“Wait for it.”

A big gust of wind came and began blowing the piles of leaves apart sending them tumbling down the street by the hundreds.

Alex pointed to our leaf covered front lawn. “That was completely clear two days ago.” he sighed. “Now look at it.”

I was beginning to understand his frustration.

That's when another gust of wind came, this time coming from a different direction and the leaves on our lawn picked themselves up and raced over to our neighbors lawn across the street.

I looked over at Alex and smiled. “See, it's all better now!”

I spoke too soon as another gust from down the street broke up more of the leaf piles and sent them scurrying to our front lawn again.

I got up from my rocker. “Okay, I'm going inside. I'll wait until the wind dies down to see who wins the most-leaves-from-the-neighbors-contest.”

Alex got up too. “That's a contest I'd be happy to lose.”

WOOLY WINTER

It was a brisk fall afternoon and my son Alex and I were walking through the park when I looked down on the pavement and saw a wooly caterpillar inching along in front of us. I stopped, putting my arm out before Alex accidentally stepped on him. “Did you know these guys can predict what kind of winter we're going to have?”

Alex looked down at the fuzzy black and brown caterpillar slowly making his way across the pavement. “No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me all about it.”

I grabbed my phone and began looking it up. “I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be rooting for?

Seeing more black on him or more brown.” I finally found the Google site I was looking for. “The longer the black bands, the longer, colder, snowier and more severe the winter will be.” I read. I looked over at Alex then bent down to get a closer look at the caterpillar. “I'm going to say the brown is wider so we're going to have a milder winter.” I announced before I stood back up, happy with my prediction.

Alex looked down at the caterpillar. “I hate to be the one to say this but, I'm pretty sure the black and brown bands are about the same.” He looked back at me.

I looked back on my phone. “It says if the tail end is dark, the end of winter will be cold.” We both looked back down at the caterpillar. “How do you know which end is its end?” I asked.

Alex started to laugh. “I'm pretty sure he's walking front first across the pavement.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Hey, he could be working on his moon-walking skills, we have no idea what these little guys do for fun.”

Alex just shook his head.

I went back to looking on my phone. “It also says they have 13 segments to it's body which corresponds to the 13 weeks of winter!” I looked up and smiled “That's pretty interesting!”

We began walking again.

“You know, we really can't be letting one caterpillar decide what are winters going to be like.” I reasoned. “Let's see if we see another one.”

“Sure, why not.”

We both began scanning the walkway for any signs of another Wooly. It wasn't as easy as I expected it to be, with the fallen leaves tumbling around in front of us.

Finally Alex spotted another one. “Look at that one.” he said pointing to the completely brown caterpillar.

I actually felt my heart begin to race as I got down on one knee to take a closer look. “Oh my gosh! Do you know what this means?” I looked up at Alex.

Alex looked confused and shook his head. “No, what does it mean?”

I pointed to are little friend slowly making its way across the pavement. “Not a speck of black on him! It means we're going to have a really mild winter!” I got back up and couldn't help but smile. “Isn't that great news!”

Alex laughed again and we began walking again. “Do you really believe that?”

I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck. “I really NEED to believe that.”

TIMES UP

My son Alex and I were getting in the car when I paused and couldn't help but feel a little sad. “Well, I guess it's time.” I said as I brushed off some sand that was on my seat before I climbed in and started the car.

“Time for what?” Alex buckled his seat belt.

I reached over to turn on the heat. “It's finally too cold to visit the beach anymore.”

Alex put his hood up from his jacket. “We can still park down there. I'm just not getting out and sitting on the sand anymore.”

“I know. That's what I mean.” I brushed some more sand from my seat. “I've put it off long enough. It's time to get the car cleaned out.” My car had a black interior so the sand on the seats and floor were pretty noticeable. “I just kept hoping local summer would pop up again and we could get one more time to just sit on the beach and listen to the waves.”

Alex reached over and turned up the heat. “I'm pretty sure the beach season is over.” He reached over and patted me on the shoulder. “But it's still nice out.”

I backed the car out of the driveway. “Remember a few weeks ago when we saw that pod of dolphins?”

Alex laughed. “You mean the ones that were heading south?”

“Oh yeah.” Now I had to laugh. “Seems like they're brighter than we are.” The car hadn't warmed up yet and I couldn't help but shudder. “I wish we could be heading south right now.”

We were on our way to the grocery store but I decided to stop at the car wash first.

“You're really getting the car washed now?” Alex didn't look thrilled as I pulled in.

“We might as well get it over with.” I got on the line with about a dozen cars ahead of me.

Alex sighed. “This is going to take forever.”

“It'll go quick, I promise.” I began looking around the car picking up things that I wanted to throw away before we got to the front of the line. I looked in my center console. “Ahh, all our parking stubs from Point Pleasant, Manasquan and Asbury Park!” These were all shore towns we'd visited over the past few months. “I guess they're trash now.” I crumpled them up getting ready to toss them in the bin. I looked over at Alex. “I love the fall, I really do! But I have to tell you I've never been a fan of winter.”

Alex patted me on the shoulder again. “Don't worry. In a short six months we'll be back to our favorite time of year.”

I groaned. “How's that suppose to make me feel better!” I cried.

“Hey, it will fly by, you'll see.” he slumped down in his seat. “It'll go by about as quickly as this car wash line.” he grumbled.

ARE YOU SICK?

I was sitting in the living room watching television when all of a sudden, “Ah-Choo.” I hadn't even felt the sneeze coming but luckily I was able to catch it in the crook of my arm.

“Are you sick?” my son Alex came into the living room.

My husband Steven came in from our bedroom. “Who sneezed?” he asked.

“Mom.” Alex tipped his head in my direction.

“It was a sneeze!” I cried. “I'm not sick! It's probably allergies.” I couldn't help make a slight sniffling sound.

Alex sighed. “She's sick.”

Steven went into the kitchen and came back with a box of tissues and the pump bottle of hand sanitizer. “Here you go.” he placed them on the coffee table in front of me.

I grabbed a tissue. “Thanks, but I'm not sick.”

Alex went into the linen closet and came back with a can of Lysol.

“You two are being ridiculous!” I said as I took the can from him and began walking around the room spraying the television remote and the couch I'd been sitting on.

“Let's just be on the safe side.” Steven called as I went into the kitchen and began spraying all the door handles and drawer knobs. “It's not a good time for me to get sick right now.”

I came back into the room spraying light switches and anything else I could have possibly touched. “When's it ever a good time?” I asked.

Steven sighed. “You know what I mean.”

Alex went back into the kitchen and brought back a bottle of water he handed to me. “Here you go. When you're coming down with a cold you should really stay hydrated.”

I put the Lysol on the coffee table and took the bottle from Alex. “Thanks, but again, I'm not sick.”

Steven placed the back of his hand on my forehead. “You don't feel like you have a fever.”

I took a sip of water. “Seriously, you two. I just sneezed.” I sat back down on the couch and couldn't help but snuffle again.

Steven and Alex looked at one another. I could see the concern on both their faces.

“Fine.” I got up from the couch. “I'll take a Zicam. Will that make you both happy?” I went back to the linen closet and began rummaging though the box we kept the medicine in. “Found it!” I came back with the Zicam bottle. “Anyone else want to take one?” I popped one into my mouth before holding out the bottle to them.

“You're suppose to take one when you first get sick.” Alex reminded me. “And I'm not sick.”

“Neither am I, and I'm taking one!” I held the bottle out to Steven.

Steven held his hands up. “I'm good.”

I shook my head as I put the container down on the coffee table next to the tissues, hand sanitizer, and Lysol. “You guys are ridiculous.” I sat back down and picked up the television remote.

“Hey, don't get mad at us.” Steven said. “We just want to make sure we all stay healthy!”

“Not to change the subject.” Alex said. “But what's for dinner?”

I smiled as I looked up at both of them. “Well, if I am sick you don't want me touching your food do you?”

Steven looked over at Alex. “I guess we're ordering out.”

I raised my hand and smiled. “I vote for Italian!”

BYE BYE BIRDIE

“Are you sure you haven't seen any hummingbirds lately?” I was asking my son Alex as we stood on the back deck. Alex had just finished filling the bird feeders and was still holding the bag of seed.

“I'm positive.” he sighed. “You've asked me that question every day for the past week.”

“I know.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I just don't want to take their feeders away too soon.” I looked at the woods at the back of our house. The leaves were beginning to change color with little peeks of orange appearing on some of the trees. “What if there's a straggler?” I looked at Alex before sweeping my hand in the direction of our yard. “Most of the flowers they like are gone, so they'd really need the feeder before heading South.”

Alex shook his head. “Weren't you the one telling me that the size of their brain, compared to their body size, is huge.”

“It really is!” I smiled and nodded my head. “They're really smart!”

“So if one is still hanging around, this late in the season, wouldn't that make him stupid?”

I shrugged my shoulders again. “You've got a point.” I sighed as I walked over to my red glass feeders and took them down from their posts. “I hate bringing them in.” I said as I walked to the door, the two glass feeders clicking together as I held them in one hand so I could open the door. “It's just another event that makes me feel like summer's over.”

Alex kicked away a few dead leaves before they blew into the house. “I'm pretty sure summer was over before you brought in the feeders.”

I went over to the sink and began washing them. “Did you know that hummingbirds are so smart that they can recognize the people that feed them?”

“Nope. Did not know that.” he said as put the bird seed away in the cabinet.

“Remember in the beginning of the summer when you and I were on the deck and that hummingbird flew a few feet in front of my face?”

“Oh yeah.” Alex leaned against the counter. “That was so weird.”

“Now it makes all the sense in the world.” I looked over at Alex. “He was trying to remember the face that would be feeding him.”

Alex started to laugh. “I was sitting right there, too! How’s he know you'd be the one feeding him and not me?”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Oh come on! I told you hummingbirds were smart!” I turned off the water and placed the feeders on a paper towel to dry. “Wait a minute.” I leaned against the counter. “The day he decided to memorize me my hair was a mess, I was wearing my glasses, and I didn't have on any makeup!”

Alex looked confused. “So?”

I threw my hands up in the air, clearly annoyed. “So, now he's back South telling all his hummingbird friends that some frumpy old lady feeds him when he heads North!” I looked back at Alex. “Why couldn't he have studied me on a day I looked better?”

Alex just shook his head as he silently walked away.

LAUNDRY CRICKET

I was on my hands and knees on top of my dryer when my husband Steven walked by the laundry room.

He stopped in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

I was trying to peek behind the dryer. “You can't hear that?” I had to duck under the shelf trying to see past the dryer vent.

Steven listened for a moment. “You mean the cricket?”

“Yes!” I crawled over to the washer. “It's driving me nuts!” I peeked behind the washer. “Nothing!” I sat back on my heels listening for his call. “It's like trying to find out which smoke alarm is chirping 'low battery'.

The cricket called again. I scanned the room. “Now it sounds like it's behind the folding table!” I climbed off the washer and headed for the table. Getting on my hands and knees I pushed the laundry baskets out of the way. “Nothing!” I cried as I sat back on my heels waiting for the next call.

“So what do you plan to do if you find him?”

“I'll scoop him up and put him outside.”

“Don't you think he'll just find his was in again?” Steven was leaned against the door jam.

I shook my head and sighed. “You're probably right. This is a pretty smart one finding his way to the laundry room.” I looked up at Steven. “You know they eat material?”

Steven looked around the room at the baskets of laundry needing to be done. “Well he certainly came to the right place.”

I looked around the room. “Hey! It's been a crazy, busy week!”

Steven shook his head. “I'm not judging. I know how busy you've been.” He looked around again. “I'm just saying he's a smart one.”

The cricket chirped again. My head shot up and I scanned the room. “Where did it sound like it was coming from this time?”

Steven looked around the room. “I swear I think it was coming from that basket.” he was pointing to a basket of already sorted jeans and dark colored clothes.

“Oh, no ones going to be eating my clothes today!” I grabbed the basket and began loading the clothes into the washer. I made sure to carefully shake each item of clothing before placing it in the washer in case the cricket was clinging to it. Once the basket was empty and the washer was full I turned it on. “Well, it wasn't in there.” I dropped the laundry detergent in and closed the lid.

Leaning back against the machine I scanned the room again. “Where could he be?”

We heard the chirp again. I froze. “Did you hear where it came from?”

Steven pointed to the dryer. “Maybe he's in there?”
I was confused. “You really think he got in the dryer?” I opened the dryer door where a load of towels were waiting to be folded.

“Maybe you should take the towels out just to make sure he's not in there.”

I stopped and turned around. “Wait a minute.” I began to shake my head. “You didn't think he was in the laundry basket! You just wanted me to start a load of wash!”

Steven shrugged his shoulders. “I'm all out of jeans.”

The cricket chirped again.

He shrugged his shoulders again. “I'm still going to say the dryer because I'm pretty sure were out of towels, too.”

ORDAINED

I was scrolling through my e-mail when one quickly caught my eye. I clicked on it and had to laugh. “Reverend Kathryn!” I cried. “I completely forgot about that!”

My son Alex, who was sitting across the room, looked up. “You're a Reverend?”

“No, but I almost was.” I opened the e-mail and began reading it to him. “Greetings Kathryn and Happy Anniversary! It's been nine months since you've become a minister.” I looked over at Alex. “I filled out the entire application but never gave them my credit card number.”

Alex looked confused. “What made you do that?”

I looked back at the e-mail. “Well, nine months ago I was watching a television program where someone's friend was officiating their wedding. I got curious about how you became one so I Googled 'How to become an ordained minister.'” I shrugged my shoulders. “Turns out it's not that hard.” I went back to the e-mail. “You pretty much fill out a form and for the low price of $39.99 you can get the classic wedding kit.”

Alex shook his head. “Which does what?”

I looked back at the site on my phone. “It says it's a great package to help me plan and officiate memorable and legal wedding!” I looked back at Alex. “Pretty great, huh!”

My husband Steven came into the room. “What's pretty great?” as he picked up the days mail I'd left on the coffee table and began sorting though it.

Alex was still shaking his head. “Did you know Mom wanted to become a minister?”

Steven stopped sorting and looked over at me.

“Wait,” I held my phone up. “I never said I wanted to become a minister. I just said I Googled it and filled out the form.” I looked over at Steven. “I just never gave them my credit card number.”

Steven looked confused as he put the stack of mail back down. “A minister?”

I shrugged my shoulder again. “I kind of thought it would be fun to add to my resume!” I smiled at the both of them. “'Works with children pre-K through 8^th grade and can also preform weddings!'” I moved the phone closer for Steven to see. “Reverend Kathryn! You've got to admit that's a pretty great title!”

“I guess.” Steven shook his head. “So why didn't you finish and give them your credit card?”

I sighed. “Because once I thought about it I realized I didn't want to be responsible for legally marrying two people.” I looked at Steven then at Alex. “What if they divorced? I'd feel completely responsible.”

“Seriously?” Alex looked over at Steven.

Steven looked back at me with a skeptical look. “There's more to it than that. Isn't there?”

“Well,” I couldn't lie. “As much as I'd love the title, I'm pretty sure we all know what would happen if I had to do any public speaking.”

Alex started to laugh. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

“Who wants to be married by someone who would be visibly shaking if they had to stand up in front of a crowd?” I shook my head at the thought.

“That's not even including the talking part.” Steven laughed.

WINDSHIELD BUDDY

Jogging up the front porch steps, I came into the house and went directly to the kitchen. Opening the cabinet under the sink I grabbed a bottle of window cleaner and pulled the paper towels off it's stand. It was as I was headed back out the front door when I noticed my husband Steven watching me.

“The car's still running.” I explained to him as I dashed out the door again.

Steven decided to follow me. “Didn't you just leave to go to the grocery store?” he asked.

“I never made it there.” I called over my shoulder. “I've run out of windshield washer fluid, so I had to come back home to clean this mess off the windshield!”

“What happened?” Steven asked as he came down the porch steps.

I leaned over the hood of the car, spraying the cleaner on a disgusting smear that took up half my driver's side of the windshield.

“What was that?” he asked, picking up the paper towel roll I'd dropped in the driveway and handed me a sheet.

“A beetle.” I said as I scrubbed harder with the paper towel, only to create a bigger mess than I'd started with. “This is so disgusting!” I cried.

“How'd it happen?”

“It all started out innocently enough.” I said as I sprayed more cleaner. “I was pulling out of our driveway when I noticed some kind of beetle walking across my windshield.” I looked over at Steven as he handed me more paper towel. “Isn't it amazing how these tiny little creatures can hang on so tightly with all that wind blowing over them?”

“Sure.” Steven shrugged his shoulders. “I guess. But how did it get all over the windshield?”

“I didn't want him to get hurt so I stopped the car hoping he'd fly away.” By now the cleaner was finally beginning to do its job. “But he wouldn't fly away! So I started driving again.”

“And?”

“Well, I found myself watching him.” I complained. “I was so busy watching him that I wasn't watching the road.” I dropped the dirty paper towels on the ground and took a clean sheet from Steven. “I was afraid he was going to get me in an accident, so I thought I'd try and help him move a little bit faster.” I admitted.

“You turned on the windshield wipers to get him to move faster?” Steven started to laugh.

“He was already so close to the edge I figured he'd see them coming and fly away.” I reasoned.

Steven stared at me for a moment before he handed me the roll of paper towels and walked back to the house.

“Hey!” I called after him,“It seemed like a good idea at the time!”

PERFECT HARD BOILED EGG

“What do you feel like having for lunch?” I asked my son Alex as he sat on the couch reading a magazine.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn't matter to me. Whatever you want.”

I leaned against the door frame and thought about it for a moment. “How about egg salad sandwiches?”

Alex looked up from his magazine. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“Perfect.” I smiled at him. “Could you make a half dozen hard boiled eggs for me?”

“Sure.” He put his magazine down. “I can do that.” He got up and walked past me into the kitchen.

I followed him and leaned against the counter as he took the eggs out of the refrigerator. “You know you make a better hard boiled egg than I do.” I felt I needed to explain.

Alex just nodded as he took out a pot and put the eggs into it.

“When I make them I can never get them to peel without taking half the egg with it.” I sighed.

Alex reached into the cabinet and pulled down a bowl. “That's because you skip the ice water part.”

“I use the same pot the eggs boiled in, dump the boiling water out, and add cold water.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Same thing.”

Alex shook his head. “No it's not. The pot's still hot and cold water isn't the same as ice water.”

I sighed. “Yeah, but...”

Alex started to laugh as he went over to the sink and filled the pot with water. “You just don't feel like making hard boiled eggs right now. I get it.”

I sighed again. “It's just that I have four more loads of wash to do and I still have to get set up for work next week.”

Alex set the pot on the stove and turned it on. “Don't worry about it. I've got this.”

“Thank you.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You're the best.”

My husband Steven walked into the kitchen. “What is he the best at?” he asked.

“Making us lunch!” I quickly answered.

Alex looked at me. “I thought I was just making the hard boiled eggs?”

I just smiled at him.

“You could have just asked me to make lunch. I really wouldn't have minded.” He laughed and shook his head.

“I swear, it really did start out with you being better at making hard boiled eggs.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Than it just sort of evolved into you making lunch.”

Alex took out another bowl to make the egg salad in. “What kind of bread do you want?”

“I'll have mine on a toasted English muffin with a slice of yellow American, please!”

“That sounds good, but skip the cheese on mine and I'll have a slice of tomato instead.” Steven added.

Alex went to the cabinet to get the package of English muffins.

“You're the best!” I called as I headed to the laundry room to put another load in the washer while I thought of other chores I could delegate to someone else this weekend.

NEWSPAPER

I was sitting on the back deck reading the newspaper when my son Alex came out to sit. “Morning!” I said as I tried to turn the page and refold the newspaper. The wind wasn't making it easy as I struggled to make the fold.

“You know, you could just read the paper online and not have to fight the wind to see what's happening in the world.” Alex said as a section, I'd just finished reading, began blowing across the deck.

“Nope! Never going to happen!” I said as I put my foot over the escaping newspaper before it got too far away. “I love everything about a newspaper. I love walking to the end of the driveway to scoop it up. I love bringing it in and sorting through the sections I'm going to read as my tea water comes to a boil. I love folding it in easy to hold sections.” I held my hand up to show him my fingers. “I even like the newsprint that comes off on my hands!”

Alex laughed as he shook his head.

I picked up my cup of tea and took a sip. “Oh, this is a fun story.” I made another fold in the paper before I began to read. “A couple in New Jersey just made the Guinness world record for a cornstalk they grew that had 29 cobs on it!” I looked over at Alex. “That's pretty impressive.”

Alex looked alarmed. “What kind of toxic waste spill did they plant that in?”

He had caught me off guard with that question. “What's that suppose to mean?”

“Come on, that's a pretty weird mutation.” Alex just shook his head. “I know I wouldn't eat it.”

I looked back at the article. “They're not eating it either. It says they're going to put it on display.”

Before Alex could answer we both heard the house phone ring. I looked over at him. “Could you run in and answer that for me?”

“Sure.” he got up from his chair. “But you know it's only going to be a telemarketer.”

“Maybe not.” The wind had picked up and I was struggling to keep my newspaper from becoming a kite.

After answering the phone Alex came back out. “I was right, telemarketer.” He sat back down. “Why do we even have a land line anymore? We only use our cellphone.” He looked over at me struggling with my newspaper. “Land lines, newspapers? What century do we live it?” he started to laugh.

That's when my husband Steven came outside. “What's so funny?”

Alex pointed at me. “Mom, trying to keep her newspaper from blowing away.”

Steven looked over at me. “That reminds me. Could you save the paper for me? I thought we could have a fire in the fire pit tonight.”

“Sure I can.” I looked over at Alex and smiled. “It's just one of the many uses a newspaper has to offer.”

CRICKETS AND KATYDIDS

I was in the kitchen, finishing up with the after-dinner dishes, when my husband Steven and son Alex came through, headed for the back deck.

“It's a beautiful night out.” Steven said as he opened the back door. “You want to come out and sit with us for awhile?”

“Sure.” I picked up the pot I'd just washed and began to dry it. “Just let me put this away and I'll be right out.”

A few moments later I looked out the kitchen window and saw both my guys watching one of our hummingbirds at its feeder. I had to smile knowing that as soon as I got outside one of them would sadly say I'd just missed his visit.

I made one more quick scan of the room, making sure everything was done before I opened the back door.

“You just missed the hummingbird.” Alex said pointing to the feeder.

I smiled. “I was lucky! I saw him out the window when I was checking on the two of you.” I sat down in my rocking chair but after a few minutes I began to shiver. “It's cold out here.” I gave my arms a quick rub. “I'm going inside to grab a sweatshirt.”

I came back out appropriately bundled up. “That's better.” I sat back down again.

We sat quietly listening to the sounds of our back yard. The chirp and squeak of the hummingbirds as they let us know they were coming in for a drink. The blue jays squawking, alerting the other birds that a cooper hawk was close by. The sound of the squirrels as their little claws dug into the bark of the trees as they chased each other around. But, the most significant sound I'd been enjoying all summer long, the deafening song of the cicada, was completely silent. “No more cicadas.” I sighed.

“Nope, now it's the cricket's and katydid's turn.” Alex said.

“I know.” I sighed. “But cicadas mean summer and crickets and katydids mean fall.”

“It's not officially fall for another week.” Alex reminded me.

“I know but the evenings are getting chilly.” I sighed.

“It's going up in the high 70's next week.” Steven said.

“I know but...”

“Oh come on!” Alex cried. “It's still summer!”

I pulled my hands up in the sleeves of my sweatshirt to keep them warm. “I'm cold.” I pouted.

Alex and Steven groaned in unison.

It was then, in the distance, I could hear a cicada begin it's long shrill song. I sat up and smiled. “They're still out there!”

“One lone one left.” Steven said.

“Maybe not.” I countered waiting to hear someone answer the call.

A few minutes later Steven looked over at me. “I think that cicada might be a little late to the party.”

I sighed as I sat back in my chair. “I guess it's the crickets and katydids time to party.”

Alex leaned closer to me. “It's still summer for a few more days.”

BETTA BUBBA

I was washing a ping pong ball in the sink when my husband Steven came into the kitchen.

“What's that for?” he asked looking at the ball as I grabbed a paper towel and began drying it.

“It's a toy for Bubba.” I looked over at the fish tank where our beautiful blue betta fish was

looking over at us. “See!” I held up the ping pong ball for Bubba to see. “He's excited about his new toy!”

Steven shook his head. “What's a fish going to do with a ping pong ball?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no idea but when I looked up 'things to give your betta fish' this came up.” I lifted the lid of the tank and dropped the ball in. Bubba scurried down to the bottom of the tank looking up at the bobbing white ball that was floating at the top of his tank. I gently put the lid back on and leaned over to see what he would do next.

Steven grabbed a nectarine and gave it a quick rinse before he leaned against the sink and took a bite. “He seems thrilled.”

We both watched Bubba lay at the bottom of his tank.

“Give him some time.” I said as I stood back up. “Remember how long it took him to go though his pineapple house?”

“About a week.” our son Alex said as he walked in the kitchen. He look in the tank. “He doesn't look too happy right now.”

“Wait, why are you giving him a new toy now? Doesn't Bubba go back to school this week?” Steven asked as he took another bite of his nectarine.

I worked in a school and got the betta as a classroom pet. When summer vacation started I brought him home.

“Well...” I looked over at Alex hoping he'd help me in this discussion but when he just shrugged his shoulders I could see I was on my own. “He's a really great fish.” I started.

Steven looked to Alex then back to me. “You said he'd only be on the kitchen counter for the summer.” He reached over and opened the garbage bin, dropped the pit in, and was ready to close it when I stopped him.

“Don't close it too hard it scares Bubba!” I cried.

“He's a fish!” Steven sighed but gently closed the bin.

“He's our pet now.” I nodded over at Alex. “You and Alex are allergic to cats and dogs so now I can finally have a family pet.” I leaned down to look in the tank again. “Isn't that right, Bubba?”

Alex finally decided to add to the conversation. “He's actually kind of fun to watch.”

“He watches me when I'm at the sink!” I turned to look at Steven. “If you take a tissue from the box,” I pointed to the box of tissues next to the tank. “he gets really excited! Swimming back and forth really fast.” I looked over at Alex. “Isn't he hysterical when you hold up his food container?”

Alex shrugged “He does get pretty excited when he sees his food.”

Steven looked at both of us. “Yeah I see what you mean.” He looked back at Bubba who was still laying on the bottom of the tank. “I could look at that all day and never get bored.”

WALKING ETIQUETTE

My son Alex and I have been spending a lot of time walking this summer. We've discovered new parks and walking routes all over the county.

It was as we were walking around one of our favorite shady routes (a mile loop around a rugby field) that I noticed a couple coming towards us with a large dog on a leash. I immediately dropped back walking single file behind Alex because the path wasn't very wide. As we passed each other I noticed they were still walking side by side causing me to go further into the tall grass. Once they were past I went back on the trail and began looking at my legs.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked.

“I'm tick checking.” I couldn't help feel annoyed as I brushed off a little speck of dirt that at first I thought was a tick. “How come we seem to be the only ones who have walking etiquette?” I said as we began walking again.

Alex started to laugh. “Walking etiquette, that's a good one.”

“I'm serious!” I saw a jogger coming towards us. “Watch.” As the jogger came closer I smiled and said, “Good morning!”

She smiled back. “Morning!”

After she passed I looked at Alex. “See, that's walking etiquette.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “She was jogging.” he reminded me. “But I see your point.”

We could hear another jogger coming up behind us so we both moved to the side to let him pass.

“Thanks.” he said as he jogged by.

“You're welcome!” I called even though he had ear buds in his ears. I looked over at Alex and shrugged my shoulders. “I know he probably didn't hear me but I'm still going to be polite.”

“Hey, you're all about the etiquette now! I get it.” We'd finished the first loop and began to go around again.

We said 'Good morning!' a dozen more times, mixing it up with an occasional smile and a nod depending on how we were feeling at the moment.

“See! This is what I'm talking about.” I sighed. “It's a beautiful day, we're walking in the shade where it's nice and cool and we're on our second mile around the Rugby Loop!” I inhaled the wonderful pine smell and sighed again. “What a great day!”

We began seeing the same people as they were walking their second or third loop. We smiled and said our “Morning!” when I noticed an elderly lady, walking slowly by herself, coming towards us..

I looked over at Alex. “Good for her.” I said.

Alex looked confused. “Who?”

I tipped my head in her direction as Alex looked up the path.

“That's how I want to be when I get to be her age.” I took another deep breath of the pine smell. “Doesn't matter how slowly she goes, she's still out enjoying nature and getting some exercise!”

We were now within earshot of each other. “Morning” I called smiling and giving her a head nod.

“I've already seen you.” she grumbled under hear breath as she moved past us and continued her walk.

We waited until she was far enough away before we started to laugh.

“You still want to be just like her when you get older?” Alex asked.

BAG LADY

My son Alex put the bag of leftovers from the restaurant on the counter. “Do you want me to put these in the fridge?”

“You can put mine in, thanks.” I tossed my jacket on the chair.

My husband Steven took his container out of the bag. “I think I'm going to finish mine now.” he opened the silverware drawer and pulled out a fork.

Alex took the other two containers out of the bag and put them in the fridge. Then grabbed the bag they'd come in and was about to ball it up when I cried out. “Don't throw that away! It's a perfectly good bag. I can use that!”

Alex looked over at Steven and just shook his head as he handed me the bag. I very gently folded it up and placed it on the counter. “I'll put that with the other ones when I go to the laundry room.

Steven looked over at me. “Okay, I get reusing the gift bags but come on.” he looked over at the plain white bag I'd just put on the counter. “What are you going to use that for?”

“For the same thing we just used it for!” I picked it up afraid that one of them was going to toss it when I wasn't looking. “What if we have guests over for dinner and we want to send home some leftovers?” I held up the bag. “This is perfect!” I tucked it under my arm. “It's certainly better than a plastic grocery bag.”

Steven looked over at Alex who shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, it's a bag. If it makes her happy.”

I smiled at him. “It does make me happy.”

Alex leaned against the counter. “Okay, I get the gift bags and the plain bags but what do you do with the store bags you're always saving? I never see you using them.”

“Are you kidding?” I shook my head in disbelief. “I'm never using them again. I'm just keeping them.”

Alex looked confused. “What?”

“Look, I'm not saving just any store bags.” I sighed. “That would be silly. But when you get a bag from Tiffany's or say Louis Vuitton, the shopping bag is just as important as what you purchased!”

Steven eyes widened. “You bought a Louis Vuitton bag?”

I sighed again. “No, I'm still hoping to get one of those. I was just giving you an example.”

I watched as Steven sighed with relief. He got up from the table and put his fork in the dishwasher.

“When I travel and buy something from a cute little shop and they have a really nice shopping bag I keep those too because...” I shrugged my shoulders. “I don't know, I just like them!”

“So you just keep them?” Alex still looked confused.

“It's called collecting.” I explained to him.

“Some people call it hoarding.” Steven said in a low tone as he passed Alex to throw the plastic container in the trash.

“Wait!” I cried as he opened the trash bin. “We can reuse that!”

Steven looked down at the plastic container he held in his hand. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” I took it out of his hand and put it in the top rack of the dishwasher. “It's the perfect size to freeze extra sauce in!” I looked over at Alex. “When you're finished with your leftovers don't forget to put your container in the dishwasher too.”

Alex just nodded and looked over at Steven.

“Hey, you two should appreciate my recycling skills.” I leaned back against the counter and crossed my arms. “With all the money I'm saving on gift bags and containers maybe some day I'll get that Louis Vuitton!”

PERFECT SCALE

My husband Steven walked into our bedroom while I was making the bed. “We need a new scale.” he said as he walked to our closet and opened the door.

“Are you kidding me?” I pulled the sheets tight. “That's the best scale we've ever owned!” I argued.

Steven turned around to look at me. “But it never gives the right weight.”

I shook my head. “That's because you don't know how to work it.” I straightened the blanket.

“How can you not know how to work a scale?” Steven asked. “You stand on it and it's suppose to tell you your weight.”

“See, that's where you're wrong.” I pulled the comforter up. “We've had scales like that before and they've always made me unhappy.”

Steven started to laugh.

“It's not funny!” I cried. “You remember the last scale we had. I had to drag that thing all over the bathroom floor before I found the right spot that would weigh me what I wanted to weigh that day.”

Steven pulled out a pair of his shoes and walked over to the bench at the end of our bed. “Is that why we got rid of it?” he asked as he sat down.

“Of course.” I walked around his to straighten the other side of the bed.

“You told me it was broken.” he began putting on his socks.

I turned to look at him. “It was.” I couldn't believe he was having such a hard time understanding. So I tried again. “When a scale doesn't weigh me what I want to weigh, it's broken.”

“Is that why we've been through so many scales.” Steven looked surprised.

“Absolutely!”

“So how do you work this scale?”

“It depends on how much less you want to weigh.” I said. “If it's only five pounds, you stand on it, rock back on your heels until your toes are off the scale, and you're magically five pounds lighter!”

“Okay, what else do I need to know?” he bent over to tie his shoe.

Because he seemed so interested I continued. “If you want the perfect weight you lift your leg off the scale and tip a little to the right. That's when you know you're going to have a good weight day!”

When Steven didn't say anything I felt I had to add a precaution to my last sentence. “When you tip to one side, don't accidentally touch the wall if you get off balance. That throws the whole thing off and you'll have to start all over again.”

Steven stared at me for what I thought was a bit too long before he made his own suggestion. “What if I just go and buy my own scale?”

I shrugged my shoulders before I reached over to fluff the pillows. “Suit yourself. But it seems like a waste of money when we have a perfectly good scale already.”