Ya don't have to be nice, honey

My daughter Emma is a sweetie. Really. A very sensitive little girl who is trying to find her way in the harsh world of public school. Last year, on the playground a boy tried to take her ball from her, she grabbed it back off of him—and he pushed her down hard. The school kind pissed me off because they talked to her about how SHE could have handled the situation better. She was sticking up for herself—the boy took her ball. I told the assistant principal that we are teaching her to stand up for herself—whether they like it or not. Mostly, her feelings were because she thought the boy was her friend. I am still getting my feelings hurt over people who call themselves my friend and then prove that they are not. So I find I am at a loss to explain the complexities of friendship to my child.
Then last week, in the midst of my younger daughter being sick with the stomach flu, Emma came home sick from school she never even made it to her class. They called at 8:10. At first, I didn't think much of it because Tess was sick. But as the day wore on, I could tell Emma had gotten "better" very quickly. Turns out, there was an incident on the bus that upset her.
This is the kind of girl Emma is: she decided to make little drawings/posters for everybody on the bus. And one night she poured her heart out into these posters, working very hard on them. She just decided she wanted to do something nice for the kids she rides the bus with. Unfortunately, a group of them laughed at her and tore up the pictures.
It would have made me sick, too. Now, Emma is riding in the front of the bus and has been told that she doesn't have to be nice to those boys. She seemed confused, "But I have to be nice to everybody." But you don't have to be, do you? Especially if somebody treats you with disrespect, they don't deserve your attention, let alone your friendship or heart. It's a lesson I am still learning—it has been a difficult and painful one throughout my life—but to see my daughter dealing with this at the age of eight, it feels like a kick in the gut.

Frog Friend

We opened up one of our lawn chairs and look what we found tucked in between. It's the first frog I've seen in years. Isn't she cute?

Produce Auction

Today I visited the Shenandoah Valley Produce Auction. I thought I'd share some pictures with you.

Chickpeas

I want to tell you about a FABULOUS restaurant in Waynesboro. "Chickpeas" serves Middle Eastern/Greek food, along with some other more traditional American fare. Every time we go—and that's turning out to be any chance we get—I order the hummus and the stuffed grape leaves. They are the best stuffed grape leaves I've ever had. They are done to a perfect consistency. Sometimes, those leaves get hard and chewy. But Chickpeas grape leaves are tender, filled with yummy rice and spices. I simply can't get enough of them.
Okay. I can see and hear some of you in my imagination already. What's the big deal? Hummus? Grape leaves? The big deal is I am in Waynesboro, Va., in the middle of the Shenandoah Valley, which is steakhouse, country cafe, diner territory. Good ethnic food is 30 miles away in Charlottesville and Harrisonburg. My husband and I have watched in horror as number of Indian restaurants have opened and promptly closed—not lasting more than a year. Even though they offered interesting dishes and great service.
We are holding our breath: Will Chickpeas make it?
We think it might. Every time we go in, there's a pleasant crowd. We take it as a sign of their success. We think it's almost been a year—that's the first official hump to overcome, it seems.
Any other Chickpeas fans out there?

Karma

Tess has been sick for two days. We had very little groceries in the house, Eric was in DC, and finally I hear from an editor and a potential contract employer—both wanting stuff from me. Is this my karma? I am available most of the time. I am here, ready and willing to work, but when my kids are sick it puts a different spin on my life. And I have to tell you that they are sick A LOT. I brought this up to their doctor once and she said that no they are not sick a lot, not in comparison with many other children. I don't remember being sick a lot as a kid and my Mom verifies this memory. Kids are sick more today, and I don't know why.
So now, everything is a mess and I am playing catch-up with all of my gigs. It's hard not to be resentful when this happens.

Fresh Strawberries in the Morning

As I poured cereal into my bowl this morning, I wondered out loud if the strawberries were ripe. Eric said he thought he saw some red berries the other day. I went out in my bare feet and picked four bright red strawberries. I actually wiped the dew from them before washing them off. I love this part of my life—that now I can walk into my back yard and eat something that we planted. I always dreamed of this when I lived in Reston. You never know where dreams will take you. For now, I am in Waynesboro, Va., in the southern part of the Shenandoah Valley. I can see mountains in the not too far distance and my just-budding gardens in front me. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Yes, this Valley is Beautiful, BUT....

What a gorgeous Spring day. The sky is finally blue again and the wind has stopped, with only a gentle breeze blowing around the tree limbs now. Yesterday, I had to pick up my trash from the yard 3 times. I won't be posting for awhile because I am getting ready to go to New York City to the American Society of Journalists and Authors (ASJA) annual conference. Which brings up one of my complaints about living here—getting anywhere else is a bitch. Okay I can get get in my car and drive anywhere—not New York City, though. And to take public transportation is a major deal. The train from Staunton takes 9 hours, arriving in NY at 10:30 p.m. There are local airports, but the cost of flying out of them is extremely high. So, after much investigating, I figured the best way (cheapest) for me to go is by airplane from Richmond, which is about 2 hours from here. A friend of my husband is driving me there and picking me up. Why not my husband? Well, someone needs to be here for the girls when they get home from school.
If you think this is a convoluted mess, let me tell you about my Mom (who doesn't drive) trying to come for a visit. The buses offer an outrageously long and grueling trip. After her last experience, where they would not let her get out and get a drink of water, she said never again. So, she checked into a train from Pittsburgh to Staunton. First, the train would go to Chicago. WHAT? Isn't that the opposite direction?
People say we should take advantage of public transportation, with emissions and gas prices rising. But how crazy is this?