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“Tap… tap… tap.” I looked up to see a masked woman with a pen and a notebook ready to take an order. I lowered my window. “Hi,” I said. “Hello. Can I take your order?” she asked. “Oh, you’re open! Great!”
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It’s a good thing to have set up a writing community, especially on a digital platform.
Tonight, as I sat down to write my last Slice of Life post for the month of March, I heard a “ding.” My phone called out to let me know someone has written. Email? Text? No, it was a notice that one of my students had published a piece of writing. I guess technically, this student is no longer my student. He moved away back in December and returned to Argentina. It had only been a few weeks of learning to blog, during those small chunks of time available for it in the classroom. It didn’t seem to be enough time, but I guess it was. I love listening to words, especially when the words come from the mouths of the people who put them together just so. Sometimes, they unexpectedly come from the people you love. Some people make meaning from words in such ways when they speak. Words don’t carry much value when they come without heart. I think about the voices I’ve heard in my life, especially those that have made spaces nestled deep in my heart and mind. My mother, my father, my sister back home, there are voices that sit there until I call on them one at a time to come sit for a visit. Today, my sister Sandra sent me a text, just a message with the need to have words spoken out loud. I called to hear her voice tonight.
After yesterday’s slice, I noticed that my writing goes in and out of the reality of living through this pandemic and the beautiful things that I am grateful to have in my life. Maybe it’s an automatic defense to write about something else. Or, maybe I just need a break from this pandemic every once in a while. I’m sure when this is all over and time has spaced out our lives now from what our lives will be in the future, it will be easier to understand why. Until then, I will give myself grace and freedom to move in and out of pandemic writing.
Tonight I plan to bake. It’s late I know, but it’s Saturday and it’s been a while since I've put on my baker's hat.
These last couple years, my time in the kitchen has not been my top priority. My children are grown, my husband’s a great cook, and my teaching responsibilities just keep growing. At 1:00 PM today, I meet with my class... most of my class. Today was my first time leading a Zoom session. There was just so much to set up, I didn't think about how it would all make me feel.
In yesterday's #SOL20 post, I narrowed my focus down to two questions. When I shared them The list grew and grew, as I sat at my dining room table and jotted down all of the things I thought I needed to let my students know when we met online. One single video meeting took more prep work than I expected, much more that I really needed. It was going to be our first video meeting and I had no idea how many of my students would show up.
Yesterday, our community was placed on “shelter in place” orders, and we went out to make one important visit.
“Stop!” I held my hand up like a stop sign. “You have to stay away… We have to keep our distance,” I clarified. I felt the lump in my throat grow and I swallowed. I carried the blue canvas bag towards the grass, slid it off my left shoulder, and gently placed it on the grass. He stood there the whole time—watching, waiting, and clutching his hands together. It was an uncommon event. We don’t usually greet this way. He was so excited to see me when I stepped out of my car. He ran towards me and I had to stop him. I could see that he probably wanted to hug me. The other day, I looked outside my kitchen window into my back yard and noticed my tiny crate mertle standing lifeless.
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AuthorI write. I read. I learn... and then I write some more. 
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