The Less Traveled Trail- Mrs. Flaherty

One of the things I love most about where I live is the access to all things nature, especially in the winter when it would otherwise be so easy to go stir-crazy being cooped up inside. Whether it’s ice skating at Great Pond, or hiking one of the countless trails of McLean Game Refuge, or snowshoeing across the fields by the great old tobacco barns, I can step out my door and embark upon any of these winter adventures!

After ice skating yesterday morning, I decided today would be a hike at McLean, before the anticipated snow storm would blanket the woods in white.  As I headed to the trail head, I decided I would not use my phone to navigate all of the paths, but rather trust my instincts and let the woods guide me. It amazes me that after five years of hiking these trails weekly, there are still paths I have not traveled.  And today, I found one such unfamiliar trail. Deciding to go straight at a trail intersection, I crossed through an open field and suddenly found myself at the base of a trailhead that would lead to the peak of the lesser known of the two Barndoor Hills. Although I had seen this peak before, it had only been from the road below and from the more common peak at McLean.  As I reentered the woods, climbing higher and higher, winding my way through leaves, over fallen logs, and up steep rocky stretches, I marveled at the woods, the scurrying of squirrels and birds before the storm, the stillness of the trees before the storm’s winds threatened to topple them. The quiet peace of the woods.

I arrived at the summit to find a bench, dedicated to a fellow hiker, with one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite Robert Frost poems:

"Two paths diverged in yellow wood, and I - 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.”

Here, in the calm before the storm, I had done just that. I had taken the less traveled path, and I was so glad I did! Thoughts of Robert Frost’s poem filled my head as I descended. Did taking the less traveled trail today make all the difference? Who knows? But as I emerged from the woods to see the first snowflakes starting to fall, I was certainly glad I did!   

Bam Bam’s Halloween - Trick or Treat?- Ms. Cutler

 

Dedicated to my puppy and son, Bam Bam. Happy 3rd Birthday!

“Miss Cutler, your phone keeps ringing!” alerted my 4th graders. 

Reading the texts as my eyes skim the letters, my stomach drops, my hands are clammy, and I immediately call the front office. 

“I need a substitute in my room. I have to pick up my dog from daycare. It’s an EMERGENCY,” I trembled. 

I dive into the car and replay the text messages from memory. My head is spinning like a top with thoughts, “How did this happen? Why did he do this?! He’s such a good boy. I didn’t raise him to act this way. Why on Halloween?! I hope everybody is alright…” 

Calmly, Bam Bam was escorted out of the building. His tail was between his legs and his big, brown eyes were staring up at me, looking very guilty. “Bam unfortunately tried to eat my cat. He is no longer allowed to come back to our doggy daycare.” 

As I got back into the car, I took a long sigh of disappointment. I felt like the worst dog mom ever. How embarrassing that my precious puppy and pride and joy would try to actually EAT another animal! 

As I’m driving home to drop Bam off, his head fully out the window embracing the breeze, his tail was wagging a mile a minute and smiling his pearly white grin at me. I took a deep breath and tried to remember that everyone, even animals, make mistakes. How could I possibly stay mad at my baby boy?! 

Did he think JUST because it was Halloween, that he could pull a mean trick? Or was he just hungry and looking for a Halloween treat? I guess Bam Bam will only know the truth about what really happened that scary Halloween…

A Bustling Backyard - Mr. Zuliani

There is so much to gain from just observing.

As a teacher of writing, I always encourage students to use their senses to make their stories come alive.  So, I thought I would give this advice a try.

It's brutally cold outside, so I won't be taking my afternoon walk. I decide to work on my slice of life. 

I wander over to a quiet area in my kitchen, right in front of a bay window, overlooking my backyard.  Just outside the window, there is a black pole on which two bird feeders are dangling.  On the ground remains cracked corn and birdseed that I had sprinkled before I left for school.  

The action at the feeders reminds me of airplanes landing and taking off from an airport.  Look at all those birds!  Sparrows, juncos, female goldfinches, woodpeckers, even bluebirds grab seeds and go.  How are they staying warm?  Where are they sleeping at night?  Are they getting enough food to eat?  My mind is wondering.

Here comes a small flock of doves.  They land and heartily peck the seed along the frozen ground.  Suddenly, they scatter!  A squirrel runs through them and aims for the feeders.  I watch him (or her) climb the black pole and start devouring seed from the red-colored feeder.  He looks so hungry.

I get distracted by my cat, Violet, who's joined me at the window.  She is watching intently, wishing she could chase the squirrel off the feeder.  I talk to her, give her a loving pet, and realize it's getting darker outside.  Time to finish my slice of life.  I am glad I took the time to watch, as I love the action in my backyard.

There is so much to gain from just observing.

Cookies? For me?- by Sophie Jacobs (aka Dog of Mrs. L. Jacobs)

 

                                                  Cookies? For me?

By Sophie Jacobs

(black lab - sneakiest dog ever - cookie lover)

Dog of Mrs. L. Jacobs

Hot cookies, just pulled from the oven.

My nose quivers as the sweet smells wafts by me.

Drool inches out of my mouth-

Drip-dripping onto the floor.

Side glance…

Don’t look directly at the cookies…

Sit still…

Oh, no! She noticed me!

“None for you, Sophie,” Sarah sing-songs in my direction.

She mustn’t be talking to me.

I watch her push the tray further onto the counter.

She stares down at me and pats me on the head.

Side glance…

Don’t look at the cookies…

Sit still.

Yawn.

YES! She’s leaving the room!

I tilt my head and listen carefully…

Faraway footsteps…

I inch toward the counter.

Side glance…

Quietness…

Now’s my chance.

I jump up on the counter-

Resting my paw-tips on the edge.

The tray is there.

Hot cookies are there.

I stand straighter on my hind legs-

Outstretching my right paw.

I shift from my left leg to my right leg.

Stretch - stretch - stretch!

I hook the claws of my right paw onto the cookie sheet.

I pull - ever so quietly…

…but quickly!

CRASH!

Success!

Hot cookies on the floor!

Footsteps clomp - clomping!

Coming closer and closer!

I gobble and gobble up the hot, chocolaty goodness!

“SOPHIE!”

I’m now in the crate as punishment…

Totally worth it!

Beep, Beep!- Mrs. Bruno

 Beep! Beep!

I am a helper. 

I enjoy helping others. 

I see a problem and want to help fix it. 

One would think this is a wonderful attribute to have… and most times… 

it is.

But…

It leads me to help when I already have more than enough to do.

It leads me to stress because I volunteered for something that I really didn’t want to do.

It leads me to saying ‘yes’ when so many times I want to say ‘no’.

So… I started to remind myself to ‘stay in my lane’. 

Who doesn’t love a good metaphor?! 

An email comes through with a question someone else should answer… I hit reply… 

Beep beep… stay in your lane.

No one volunteered to help with an event… I open an email and start typing… 

Beep beep… stay in your lane.

Someone has promised to do something… but they are not doing it… 

Beep beep… stay in your lane.

It’s hard. I’m not going to lie. I like to get things done. I like to help when help is needed. I hate to see others struggle. But… I also have to work on what is within my control… so if you see me getting out of my lane… feel free to holler BEEP BEEP!

A Break in the Conversation- Mrs. Meehan

 By the time the six of us sat down for breakfast, it was 9:30. For some people, that could seem about the perfect time to eat your eggs, but for my family, that's late. And we had already woken up at 4:30 to get to a special sunrise that was over an hour's drive. We had already huddled together on a mountaintop watching the kaleidoscope of clouds and the growing glow over the mountains. We'd even already completed a hike, exploring the inside of the crater as the sun rose over it. 

 And we'd lived through the winding drive both up to the summit and back down. 

                                            (Just a snapshot of the long and windy road!)

We were ready for food, and we were at a breakfast place that Julia, the morning planner, assured us would be one of the best we'd have. 

"What would you recommend?" Julia asked the waitress. 

"Anything you like," she said, dodging the decision. "Everything is good."

As we waited, we checked out the desserts available next to the cash register. Chocolate lava cake, lemon squares, passion fruit tarts. Coconut cream pie, oatmeal cookie sandwiches, and guava cheesecake... These became the talk of the table as we waited for our pancakes and eggs to arrive. 

"Everyone pick the two they would want to take home," Larkin said. "But don't say them. We'll try to guess."

We'd gotten through three of us when breakfast arrived. The waitress and Julia were right... everything was good and it was one of the best we'd ever had. 

After a few bites, my husband tried to restart the dessert game. "What ones would Clare choose?" he asked. 

Almost at the same time, but with various levels of emphasis, we let him know that the game was on hold. The forks were barely big enough to shovel this incredible food into our mouths, let alone consider slowing down for a conversation. He'd have to wait for the clean plate club to learn about dessert choices! 

Sophie's Mistake by Mrs. Napierski

Pop! The lock comes out of the jam as my key turns to unlock the front door. I slowly open the door and am greeted with extreme excitement. Sophie’s whole body wags and curves. Her eyes are wide like dinner plates, and her tail spins like a helicopter. I thought you left me forever, she seems to say! 

Although I am happy to see my sweet, loving girl, I am apprehensive as I see the family room door, which had been closed tightly when I left, is now wide open… Oh no! What horror awaits me in that room? I think to myself. 

My rescue pup, who has extreme separation anxiety, managed to open a closed door in the house. “That can only mean one thing…” I mumble to myself, “DESTRUCTION!”

Time moves in slow motion; I am a sloth as I slowly creep up the stairs and begin my initial inspection of the room. The furniture remains untouched- that’s good news! The clothes that were hanging to dry are also exactly as they were when I left- WHEW! Maybe she didn’t do anything. I need to learn to trusss… OH NO! THE WINDOW! I begin to internally panic. Alarms sound in my brain! I start to sweat! This window is from the 1800s! How can I fix this?! What am I going to do?!

As the panic ensues, Sophie cries loudly from the bottom of the stairs. Her cries sound like nails on a chalkboard (high pitched, squeaky, and constant). She knows that I am upset, and my anger and panic fuel her cries even more. I turn, and at the bottom of the stairs,  I see her sweet face cowering while her ears are pinned straight back and her tail is now in between her legs; the anger in me turns into pity. 

As I look at her, and back at the window, my body starts to relax. I feel the tension in me release, and I realize that she didn’t do this purposefully. I know that she was just trying to get to me; she had been abandoned before, and she thought she was being abandoned again. In that moment, I take deep breaths as I count to ten, and I calm myself. I calmly call her to me, and when she comes, she curls her body into a u shape and presses against me. I sit with her, pet her, and tell her that I love her no matter what. “You are so much more important to me,” I whisper to her. I feel us both calming together, and I realize that all she needs is love. 

Later this weekend, I think to myself, I will fix the window; it’s going to be ok. 

              Sophie’s Mistake                         A whole tub of wood putty and a

                                                                           weekend of work later…

     

     She’s worth it!