Black bears, lost count.
Dense fur, giant square,
thick-padded paws on hinges.
She sees my face.
Her sweet browns, relaxed brows.
She saunters away, silent,
fur moving in waves,
like thick, black gravy.
In the Wolcott Woods.
Turkeys for days and then
Moms, dads, babies, friends.
(except for the time
that tom was fighting his reflection
in the truck chrome)
They fly to the tops of the trees
and stay together,
walking through the woods
and fields like friendly Skeksis,
In the Wolcott Woods.
Possums, one in the coop.
Screaming smiling foxes.
A knocked-kneed, young moose!
Hundreds of deer who,
with their skittish babies, raid my apple trees.
Rabbits with nests of holes.
Bushy coyotes during the day,
call for each other at night,
or when a firetruck whirs by.
In the Wolcott Woods.
Gurgling ravens float in the sky,
chased by four spiteful crows.
Red-tailed hawks perch,
on the top of the chicken run,
Owls, barred, barn, and great-horned,
ask for them and dive for mice.
In the Wolcott Woods.
Bobcats in arm's reach, slight smile,
While they lick lick lick,
from atop the spilled willow tree.
Wetlands with the cat tails,
and juicy ticks,
a sentry for me from him,
or him from me.
In the Wolcott Woods.
They don't believe:
I looked up at the road
and saw a bobcat crossing over
I said, "hey!" and it turned to take a peek
then I saw,
tail dragging, touching the road.
Crossing through to find a mate,
In the Wolcott Woods
need some air.
Freshly brittled leaves and babbling brook.
Prints in the white crystals,
or viscous watery dirt.
Slick mountain boulders covered in
Walking with my girl, my girls.
In the Wolcott woods.
Nana was in the big-enough, poorly-lit kitchen, wiping down the counter with a brand new yellow sponge minutes after she parked her car after a three-hour drive. We all loaded up our skinny arms with supplies for the week and brought them from the car to the house, flip-flops flipping and flopping along the way.Continue reading “Sandwich. Day 254.”
Kombucha, an acquired taste with its pungent flavor and burning scent requires an open-minded palate, but that’s not the point.Continue reading “Kombucha. Day 253.”
“Eat your breakfast now,” I said to Baylee.
“So I can be home in case you choke.” I was getting ready to leave for work, and he would be alone all day.
I suppose that seems funny or over-the-top for some, but it’s our way of life. It’s not a chosen way of life, and maybe not even situational, but it’s tangible and constant.
When I say situational, I mean some would think we are worriers because of what happened to us, but it’s also genetic. I come from a long line of worriers, so our situation, so-to-speak, simply and complicatedly magnified and continues to magnify our worry.
If a dog limps, we go to the worst case scenario, and Heaven forbid they cough. That’s another story. We continuously suffer the consequences of our genes and happenings by living a life full of what-ifs. We have to put significant effort into enjoying life, celebrating, but we can and we do.
We party and swim and go to the beach. (Although I do stare at my man-children in case they need me to save them from drowning.) We have to put a little more effort into living and having fun, but we do.
Usually when a child turns into an adult, the parent stops telling them things like “Don’t cut yourself” or “chew slower” but I never hit that wall. I never stopped. I don’t think I will actually. Maybe I’m that mom who does get into the pilot’s seat and helicopters over their heads. If that’s what it takes to keep them safe, then so be it.
Just call me, Chopper Mom. (Very superheroesque. I need a cape.)
In about a month I will be at the halfway point of this writing excursion I began, the one to honor Roger. 543 days of writing, reposting, sharing, revising, and typing a simple message is still going, maybe not as strong, but still.Continue reading “I Still Write. Day 244.”
My light colored denim overalls barely fit around my enormous, swollen belly, and my feet already felt tight, Old Navy flip-flop straps digging into my swollen flesh, pinky toes happily standing at attention.Continue reading “Mother’s Day. Day 243.”
Everything Baylee knows about Roger is from what he’s been told and photos he’s seen. Just today he quoted to me, “You know that the earliest memories begin around three years old.” He was not quite three when Roger died. I could see his quiet face concentrating on the math.
It’s debilitating and I think I do it to myself. I wish I had that gift of letting my kids figure it all out on their own, but I’m the mom who always says, “Don’t cut yourself” when they’re holding scissors or “Don’t choke” when they’re eating. Mind you, my kids are not babies anymore, and I don’t see an end in sight to my madness.
I’m not a helicopter mom, but a reminder mom who lectures and makes sure they know what they most likely already know.
Max went to his first day of work today after just getting his license, and I worried all morning until I got his text. “I made it. Love you.” I took a deep breath and thanked God.
All day we texted, him initiating more than I did because I was trying to give him space. Well, he forgot his charger, which in this day and age, and since he didn’t know the way yet, means he didn’t know how to get home.
“My phone is at one percent,” he texted me.
“You’ll have to figure it out,” I said, wanting to cry.
Well, he did, and he’s on his way home now. I knew he could do it, but why don’t I want to let him?
In case you don’t know, we just climbed 43 stories at the Museum Tower in Charlotte, NC to help support the Tunnel to Towers foundation. Our team raised $1,206 for the foundation!Continue reading “What it’s Like to Climb that High. Day 237.”
Max finally earned his driver’s license! Due to him not being in a rush, COVID restrictions at the RMV in Massachusetts, and one failed attempt, it took longer than he would have liked. He got it, though. He practiced and studied and went in there knowing what he was doing. We were both very freaked out, but when he rounded that corner, I saw that smile his dad gave him stuck on his face, and I knew.Continue reading “New Drivers. Day 234.”
This hasn’t been published yet, so I eliminated the names.
Find harmony on a tranquil part of the island in this newly painted, clean and cheerful six bedroom, four and a half bathroom ocean-view house that sleeps fourteen people and has six balconies! You will admire the sunrise, sunset, inlet, and the ocean from this three-story home. This dog-friendly, newly decorated house nestled in the private community of &*%$* boasts a beach access and three stories, each with its own living area with ample comfortable seating and smart TVs.
Smart TVs are also in each of the six bedrooms ready for you to sign on to your favorite streaming apps. Two of the bedrooms, one on the first floor and one on the second are master suites with king beds and their own bathroom. Other bedrooms include two more on the first floor and another two on the third floor, enough room and separation for several families.
The house sits on a cul de sac, right across from the private community beach access, offering a safe, short walk to the sand and sea. This part of the island will lend you a serene beach stay with an array of restaurants, bars, and shops only a short drive away, but not close enough to cause a loud, busy vibe.
The staircase at the front of the house will guide you to the first floor which boasts three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living area, and the convenience of a laundry room so you may return home with clean clothes, but it doesn’t stop there.
The second floor is the heart of the home with a sitting area, a large living room with ocean views, one bedroom, and two bathrooms. It is also home to the well-stocked kitchen, a gourmet chef’s dream with a Keurig bar, stainless steel appliances, a dining area with a large table that seats eight, and additional seating at the kitchen bar and center island. Adults can enjoy a glass of wine in the ocean-view living room while the kids play games a short distance away upstairs.
The third floor, a child’s dream, has two bedrooms, a large sitting area with a table perfect for games or snacktime, another bathroom, and a game nook well-stocked with board games. Children will love the bright colors and ocean life decor while they create lifelong memories.
Don’t wait to book this property in the highly-coveted area of *%^@&$?. It will go fast!
Walmart has boxes of cereal, name brand cereal, called Mega size. Last night I tucked a bright orange, 31.2 ounce box of Reese’s Puffs under my arm and brought it to bed with me. I knew I wanted to add to the extra milk at the bottom of my enormous bowl a little at a time, many, many times. Then I drank as much of the milk as I could before it made me sick, fell asleep, and dreamt about Wanda carrying around a live copperhead. I awoke this morning with a sore mouth, dirty dishes in my room (which I read is no good for one’s mental state), and no remorse.Continue reading “Pigging Out. Day 232.”
Yesterday’s post made me think of urns and cemeteries.Continue reading “Cemeteries and Swing Sets. Day 231.”
I am tired and don’t really know what to write about, so I will list what I’ve done. Don’t get too excited:Continue reading “Because I’ve Done Enough. Day 228.”
I went to dinner with some dear friends last week to Camino Real in Surf City. We had tacos and fajitas and caught up with each other since it had been over six years.Continue reading “The Old Teresa. Day 227.”
*a poetry revisionContinue reading “Facebook. Day 226.”
It wasn’t about the hot dogs, but they did help.Continue reading “Fenway. Day 225.”
Years ago, I used to run but I got busy and other things happened so I stopped. I’ve done other forms of exercise in the past 13 years since I was a runner, like yoga and walking, but I never sped up.Continue reading “I Ran Today. Day 224.”
I feel as though I would be doing a major disservice to anyone who follows me on social media or reads my posts on this wonderful WordPress page, if I didn’t talk about German shepherd dogs (GSD) a little and maybe offer a warning.Continue reading “German Shepherds. Day 223.”
When I go to the chicken coop to collect eggs, I can put them in a basket and keep them on the counter until they’re ready to be used. They are covered with something called a bloom which protects the inside of the shell from bacteria. Read more about the bloom HERE. It’s pretty cool.Continue reading “Egg Bloom. Day 222.”
Because I’ve been cooking all day and prepping for the holiday, I will bullet some thoughts and points that I have recently written down:Continue reading “Bullets. Day 221.”
*(Boys, don’t read.)Continue reading “What if I Said No. Day 220.”
Learning is a practice, a lifelong, tiring event that we have to experience. In order to learn, though, we have to be willing to admit that we were once naïve about something and that we have since changed our ways, or are at least planning to. Learning is about opening our minds and admitting we were wrong. Learning is about not being a big old hard-headed, stubborn, close-minded know-it-all.Continue reading “The Big Cats’ Real Friend. Day 219.”
About two minutes after I leave my house, I fly down the ramp onto Interstate 40, a flat and long road with no pot holes or traffic, at least not where I drive on it. Third gear steals the show as fourth waits until we’re on the highway, blended with the rest of the waltzing little cars and box trucks. Then fifth, then sixth, cruise control, and go.Continue reading “Long and Flat Roads. Day 218.”
“How old are you?” a child will ask an adult.
“Don’t ask that. It’s rude!” an adult will tell a child.Continue reading “How Old Are You? Day 214.”
*I write for Roger. Click HERE to read more.
In case you never clicked, here’s the story I wrote that was published in a rescue magazine called PawPrints. Click HERE to read more about it.Continue reading “Not a Repost, but a Repost. Day 213.”
This exquisite six bedroom, four-and-a-half bath property has a community pool, an elevator that goes to the main floor, rooms for days, and it sleeps eighteen people! On the first-floor oceanfront deck, you and your party can have a Sunday morning brunch at the dining set, or lazily soak in the hot tub while you watch pods of dolphins swim and a majestic pelican pair fly by.
When you walk through the grand entrance to the home, you will notice a classic, clean, and modern style with large white pillars and a lovely flow from room to room. Neutral tones and sleek, hardwood floors throughout add to an elegant, yet cozy feel. The kitchen is well-stocked with multiple appliances, cookware, dishes, a wine cooler and an island with stools, counter space, and a cooktop! From the dining room you can walk through the sliding door onto a large deck where you can view the ocean and watch the sun rise while you sip your morning coffee.
Here is the full version which was published April 9, 2022:
I still can’t believe I’ve posted something on here for 211 days straight! I feel so confident in my writing now, not enough to not go over it a million times first, and also not confident enough to not freak out when someone, probably Sammy, points out a mistake in my writing. I’m happy to have been exercising my brain and typing hands, though, and I feel like this collection will one day be some sort of cool thing for the boys and maybe their kids even.Continue reading “Egg Baby Driving Test. Day 211.”
“It’s just allergies,” I said to Sammy. “It’s very common this time of year.”
“It just feels worse than allergies,” he said.Continue reading “When it Burns. Day 209.”
I’m a fan of free verse poetry because there are no rules so my thoughts aren’t choked by a need to rhyme or be a certain length, but today I thought it would be fun to explore some other types of poetry. I started easy with the haiku.Continue reading “Haiku. Day 208.”
I was talking to my sister-in-law the other day about birthday cakes. (Her birthday is tomorrow! Happy birthday, Sherry!)
“What kind of cake will you have?” I asked her.Continue reading “Birthday Cake. Day 207.”
First of all, I must address the word “meeno.” It’s a word that was created by the one and only Samuel Adams when he was a tot. I recently mentioned Sam’s obsession with tomatoes when he was small, and the word is still running smoothly through our family chats.Continue reading “One Meeno Plant. Day 206.”
I write for my husband, Roger L. Adams, Jr. KIA 29 June 2009. Click HERE to read more.
I noticed this morning when I awoke that I had a missed call from the Wilmington Police Department. Of course, I felt my whole body become numb. My mind never races to the worst case scenario because it doesn’t have to. It’s always resting there, waiting.Continue reading “Forever Scarred. Day 204.”
Working and momming is not easy.Continue reading “I Get it, Now. Day 203.”
I love watching people eat, not listening, at all, but watching. Social media has offered the world videos of everything, and many of them include people pigging out.Continue reading “Watching People Eat. Day 202.”
“I won!” I declared.
“Because you made me laugh,” Roger said, defeated. He was smiling, but he was always smiling, so I wasn’t sure if he was being serious. And God bless him if he was being condescending.Continue reading “Royal Rumble! Day 201.”
Click HERE to see why I write.
I have a list of topics to write about and refer to it quite often, but today I will just wing it. Max, Baylee, and I have been outside most of the day, working in the yard and garden, and repairing some broken items such as the flag holder on the front porch, and we replaced the plastic dryer vent cover on the back deck with a steel one. I taught Max how to use a hole saw so we could put the umbrella over our picnic table, and we planted red and green bell peppers, and also serranoes and jalapenos.Continue reading “My Conscious is Streaming. Day 200.”
I write to honor my late husband, Roger L. Adams, Jr. Click HERE to read more.
I have been waiting so see this in print for weeks now! I interviewed with a couple in Willard who run a rescue. They take in all animals, but specialize in special needs and ones on the kill-list at local shelters, including livestock. (They have a chicken with use of only one leg and she has a therapy rabbit. They sleep together!)Continue reading “Finally! Day 199.”
I write for my husband. Click here to read more: 543
A couple days ago, I shared this piece that Tyler wrote in 2020 around Memorial Day. Today, I share it with you.
I write every day about everything in the memory of my husband. To read more about it, click HERE.
I have this thing about fancy toothpaste. When there’s a little extra lying around in the grocery budget, I love to splurge on it. You know what I mean, the tubes that are in the stand-up boxes, the ones with gold, foil markings, or the labels marked “clinical strength.” (What’s the deal with that, anyway? Is the other stuff just adequate strength?)Continue reading “Top Shelf Toothpaste. Day 197.”
I start work today!
My commitment to 543 days of writing still stands, but this week my posts may be short while I make the transition that I’ve been wanting for many years. My emotions are bouncy, but I am so excited about taking this next step forward.
Thank you for the well-wishes and swag vibes. They are fuel to me.
Click here to see why I write: 543
“Can I borrow your charger?” Most likely, we’ve all heard this sentence many times. It’s a close cousin to someone asking where their charger is, two people comparing battery percentage to see who is most worthy of using the charger, or even to someone complaining because their charger doesn’t work. We’re at the mercy of the cords!Continue reading “Cords! Day 194.”
*Click here to see why I’m writing: 543
Bludgeoning a person in the head with a hammer is not something I want people to think of when they hear my son’s name, and it was not my intention, but it’s done, so we have fun with it.Continue reading “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer. Day 190.”
Maybe my greatest pet peeve is tough guys, ones with a sharp bone to pick or a look-at-me point to prove. You know who I’m talking about, the ones who walk around with I.L.S. (Imaginary Lat Syndrome) where they saunter into a crowded room with their arms puffed out to show their fantasy strength.Continue reading “Tough Guys, a Pet Peeve. Day 189.”