open hands

In 1851, The Whale, the English edition of Moby-Dick, was published, differing from the American edition with thousands of punctuation and spelling changes, and over 700 different wordings. In 2003, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the fifth book in the series, was published with 864 of similar differences between the American and British versions. Has our understanding English improved in the last 150 years?

Joni Mitchelle’s For The Roses this morning. Comfort music. Not quite my first Joni but the first album that I bought when it was released. Prior to Joni, I had been such a musical snob. I appreciated trained voices and songs that were a part of stories. Musical stories. Oh, there were the Beatles, The Dave Clark 5 (my best friend’s favorite) and other distractions. They were inconsequential, or so I thought. The American Musical Theater was my ‘real’ music. And then Joni, thanks to a boyfriend, and also our newest Noble Prize winner. I’ve been humming Dylan albums straight through all week. Continue reading →

Posted on 18 October 201618 October 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 0

of murals, tears & voting

Morning mural painting at Randall School stretch way beyond the scheduled noon ending time. A tryptic on the retaining wall that surrounds the gym equipment that so many of us worked for so long to become a reality. Now, five years (Really, five years?) after the ‘new’ playground equipment was assembled, there will be art behind it.

The day dawned unpromisingly gray and I was so concerned that there would be very few people to paint that I texted Kati, the organizing teacher, that we would be a little late. When we arrived, however, there was a bevy of painters young and old applying color to the walls. It was noisy, frantic and busy. I held my breath as we dove into the fray. Julia has not always been able to handle happy, noisy crowds, no matter how friendly. Continue reading →

Posted on 16 October 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 0

gardening court

Noxious weeds shortly before we left in June.

A letter to my alder. Continue reading →

Posted on 12 October 201614 October 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 1

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 →

Posted on 1 October 20163 October 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 1

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 →

Posted on 19 September 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 3

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.

Continue reading →

Posted on 16 August 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 1

first week of summer

The week passed very quickly. It was Thursday before I realized the Tuesday had ended. We did lots of “things.” We both struggled with the transition from school life to vacation life. As much as Julia has transition challenges, my transmission faulted time and time again and I did grind the family gears repeatedly as we sought the new normal.

During the week, I finished the big spring garden job of mulching. With Julia’s help and forbearance. On one hand, I hate the specificity of the process–clear all weeds, dig the defining trench and heap on the chips hauled in black plastic bags from our free town mulching site. On the other, I get to make many garden decisions–what is weed, when is overgrown, what is taking over. I get to edit my garden. And I get to interact with every plant–congratulating the delphinium in glory, enouraging the new hollyhocks, clearing space for the little holly in the back garden and appreciating the bed that is growing up surrounding David’s bench. To do all of this, with Julia either helping or sitting doing math and reading near by is no small task. And we did it. Continue reading →

Posted on 19 June 201620 June 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 1

lessons, gardens & travel plans

The days just move along and move along. It is all a-whirl.

Seventh grade ends tomorrow. This is only the second time that Julia has greeted summer with enthusiasm. She understands enough about time to appreciate breaks. I find the transition from school to vacation unnerving. Work in school has been on the wane. Her big “country project” for social studies was finished two weeks ago. Her last book review and spelling test about a week ago. Math has dribbled to a close. Continue reading →

Posted on 9 June 20169 June 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 4

curmudgeon cracking

I’ve been wallow-y lately. Lots of stuff going on and little of it easy or smooth. Last week, I cried to the universe: Can’t anything in my life go smoothly!? I think the universe answered: no. Honestly, when I get like this, I’d really like to climb out of my skin and give it away. Who in their right mind would take it?

Self pity. Ugly, messy stuff. A gaggle of quotations run through my mind. I get it. Self pity. A dangerous elixir.

Pouts:

The school year is not winding down gracefully. Julia was late to school six days in a row. A lack of focus on doing the tasks at hand is the raison d’être — redressing a doll, picking up some reading, working on a lego piece has all taken precedence to getting washed, dressed and ready. The loss of focus happens in an instant, my back turns, I make my bed, I run downstairs to start the kettle. And Julia has been disrespectful to teacher twice this week — refusing work, speaking inappropriately, being generally mean. I live in dead fear that this will escalate and mark her as a trouble maker. I fear alienating the very people, her teachers, who are her lifeline to the world. Continue reading →

Posted on 15 May 2016 by Suzanne Buchko 0

new machines

Gluten free banana pancakes with date spread. I took a number of pictures of the stove and fridge and they looked silly here, but the food is okay.

Dreary early spring in Wisconsin. Yes, a few brilliant days come our way but lots of cold, damp days. Is this our British weather? Julia wants to wear spring clothes, especially light jackets, but relents after opening the morning door and standing on the front porch. I am no better, putting away hats and gloves and then retrieving them when I find myself shaking outside. Still, my neighbor’s daffodils, the ones that are in her protected side yard and bloom weeks before mine out front, bloom. They bud and stall. They are beaten down by wind and hail. I pick a few and put them on my kitchen window. These three will have the benefit of light and warmth. These three bloom for days. Almost without end.

Last week, my new appliances were delivered. They are not perfect—the fridge door is dented and the only fix is a new door to be ordered. The top of the stove is cracked and there is a question whether there is some part to be changed or a new stove to order. There is more to this in a paragraph or two but I have given myself over to the glory of fully working machines.