It's time to cut down a tree - or two - both literally and figuratively, it would seem. We finally escaped our too-spendy rental in the new state so far from the old stomping grounds. And after much dragging around of the realtor, found a spot to call our own and plant the brood and all our accoutrements. There is land here - enough for chickens and gardens and even for all the vehicles that accompany our menagerie - but it is virtually bare land. There are only half a dozen trees on the whole property. With the exception of one overshadowed apple tree, all the trees are a variety of willow, more leggy than sturdy. There is one just outside the bedroom window. I want it to be wide and spreading, solid and reliable. But it is not. It seems that it is dead. Yes, there are leaves and shrubbery, but the lady at the nursery down the lane - the Jolly Lane - informs that the leggy growths and barren trunks are indicative of trees that have ceased to be healthy - whose hearts ...
It was Homecoming week at the new school this week. The traditional time celebrating the sports (football, in this case) team's opportunity to play at their home turf after a time of "away" games. The players are once again surrounded by their own family and friends. The cheerleaders and pep band lead the students and fans in songs and cheers of support. The players are on the field they are most comfortable with. They are safe here; they are home. The week of events started with a banquet and ended with a "Tailgate Party," complete with a chili cook-off, a corn hole tournament, face-painting, and, of course, a football game. After the crock-pots had been cleared and the cinnamon roll frosting licked off fingers, we packed in the bleachers with the other fans of the sport that resembles teenage bull-fighting. As we cheered and groaned and celebrated over the plays, a conversation starts with the mom in front of us - she whose son shares a locker with ours. The ...