A letter to my alder. Continue reading
gardening court
Author: Suzanne Buchko
milwaukee weekend
Milwaukee. The 90-mile-away city that we never visit. But there we were for the wedding of one of Julia’s long time therapists who, years after she left Madison, we still miss. A pretty wedding at the Milwaukee Yacht Club on a blue skied sunny fall day. The chilly air was warmed by a sun enough to make the outdoor ceremony with dock and lake view utterly pleasant to sit through. Although we knew no one but the bride, Julia was welcomed like a cousin. Ever generous, Michelle has for years shared Julia stories with her family, roommates and fellow marching band members. And that eased our way into the party. Julia exchanged news about Sonic and Mario with many willing listeners. And after dinner, Julia wanted to dance and found willing partners. Continue reading
educating my girl
New boots and a favorite skirt. My fashionista!
Clear, accurate and concise. I have been trying to write a summary of Julia, strengths and weaknesses, gifts and challenges. I am both up to the task and completely overwhelmed. And no where near objective. But can I be informative?
I’ve begun my search for educational alternatives for Julia for next year in earnest. Two weeks ago, I began contacting educators, researchers and anyone who I thought might have ideas or know people with ideas about educating kids on the autism spectrum, specifically about educating Julia. The big question is . . . better to just copy the email here: Continue reading
panera morning
I sit in Panera for coffee and a bagel tapping, answering email, commenting on Facebook, setting up a few meet ups with friends. Panera, at least this one, in the morning is a senior zone. Couples mostly. Of course. In small groups of a single gender or uneven, odd numbered mixes. Is this what substitutes for the boomer bar scene?
I am content just sitting with carbs, fat and caffeine. Observing. There is a woman at the next table who is not. Not happy. She sits alone holding onto a paper cup of hot liquid in front of her. No book or paper or electronic device to accompany her or pass the time. She has not planned for independence. She is waiting. Her fingers tap the cup. She looks at her watch. She looks to the door whenever it opens. The color in her cheeks rises. Her eyes are troubled. She avoids looking at anyone, including me. I would smile at her given half the chance. Continue reading
capturing focus
When my friend, Cindy, wrote “What’s sparking joy?” on her Blog, Yarnstead, she asked the question: “So, how to get back to that top ten, how to recapture the focus I came back from Alaska with last year?”
Good question! So much on my mind. I wanted to call her for coffee and chat, I expected her to be at Saturday service at FUS but instead, days later, I write.
I know, I know. Yes, yes! I know. How? And not just how to recapture the focus for sparking joy, but also, how to hold focus in the midst of whirling chaos. How to recall and return to it when the immediate fires are put out? How not to dissipate that wonderful energy on those immediate fire that inevitably flare up.
Yes, good question. Continue reading
noticing
Julia’s interpretation.
The garden.
I notice rain. Just after dawn, coming down in buckets, like cats and dogs, teaming. Or is it teeming? It thundered and lightened and made an awful fuss before coming down. This rain has been in the offing for 24 hours, announcing itself over and over again with two brief showers yesterday, neither long enough to be “rain” and mounting humidity until I turned on the air in the late afternoon. We’ve slept in the cool, manufactured air for which I am grateful. Continue reading
first day of school
Kindergarden
Kindergarden
Kindergarden
First Grade
First Grade
Second Grade
Second Grade
Third Grade
Third Grade
Fourth Grade
Fourth Grade
Fifth Grade
Fifth Grade
Fifth Grade
Sixth Grade
Sixth Grade
Sixth Grade
Seventh Grade
Seventh Grade
Seventh Grade
Eighth Grade
Eighth Grade
2:00 p.m. on the first day of school. I have yearly dreams on the first days of school of doing something wonderful after I drop Julia off. I thought I would be out in the garden moving plants and maybe get to the gym today. Instead, the day up to this point has been sitting at my desk sorting though mail put aside, non-urgent financial matters, social security renewals, insurance questions, and calls to, or more precisely messages left for, therapy, therapy. therapy. I have about an hour before pick up and instead of trying to cram something delightful into the time, I am just going to sit and tap. Continue reading
fossils
It rained in the very early morning and now again at dusk. The day was by turn, cool, sunny, cloudy, hot and muggy. What of my mood can I blame on the weather?
Julia and I continue to work on our gardens. We are weeding and cleaning the back beds. I am making space for some of what must be moved. I’ve not heard back from the inspector who told me he would call back in regards to an extension of time before imposing a fine to give me time to transplant. I hesitate calling in case the answer is not what I want to hear. In the meantime, my across the street neighbor received a complaint similar to mine. Their terrace garden is considerably smaller and their plants, although over 24” are all perennials whose final height is only in place for a few weeks. Someone on the neighborhood yahoo group has taken to calling he who is complaining the garden gestapo. I am almost more angry about this second complaint. No, not quite true. I am angry over my complaint as well. I am still muttering as I garden and doing a fair bit of blaming. Continue reading
silver linings & rainbows
We are sinking into home. Beds. Couch. Kitchen sink. Julia’s cello. Machines. My first batch of tomatoes from the Farmers’ Market being sauced as well as a small pot of tomatillo sauce. To be ultimately frozen for winter dishes. I have missed the wonderfully large bunches of basil at the market. I have none growing. Me thinks no pesto this year. Continue reading
all that no longer fits
Yesterday was a day of issues and challenges. Two to be precise. Two challenges that I had no idea I was going to come home to. Both require lots of energy and some decisionmaking. After 24 hours of fretting and feeling sorry for myself, for us, it was time for action. Action, in some cases, is a number of phone calls, messages left and then patient waiting. So a measure of frustration gets added to the mix, but I posted on Facebook and also on my neighborhood listserv about the appropriate issues and the response from neighbors and friends has been so supportive. And I really needed that. A hazard of living alone, no one to vent to or commiserate with. Online friends are not the answer to all the hard situations of the world but it felt good to keep one eye on Facebook responses as I started cutting down my beloved garden.
Chasing Joy 
