Every day, my kids leave me things. Things that are not exactly presents, but that are always present in my presence that I need to take care of while they are in school and expanding their minds.
My dear children,
Must you leave your socks on your bedroom floor?
Can’t you throw away your rinsing cup after you brush your teeth and not leave it for me to throw away?
Kids, I really appreciate that you make your own lunch, but must you leave me your crumbs on the cutting board, the opened peanut butter and jelly jars lingering on the counter?
Must you leave me at my wit’s end and make me say things that I SWORE I would never say when I became a mother???!
At approximately 7:30 this morning, I had received no less than three text and voice mail messages both on my cell phone and land line from my daughter whilst I was in the shower and getting my youngest ready for school.
“Mom, I left my lunch home and I have no money and I have track practice and I’m going to be hungry so can you pleeeeaaase bring my lunch to school?”
One more present left behind for me, the mom.
Okay, I bring the lunch to my high schooler, because that’s what moms are for.
But then, for all the world to see in the high school’s main display case.. what’s this?
My daughter, my sloppy, beautiful brilliant, talented daughter, is featured artist of the week in her high school: I shot the following on my iTouch through the display glass so forgive me for the amateurish glare:
Today, the hallways of high school, tomorrow… SoHo?
Thank you, daughter, for being my present. I can almost excuse the dirty socks, and the pencil shavings, on your bedroom floor.
Rochester is in the midst of a sweet invasion.
If you’ve been noticing tiny creatures dancing over the roads in Rochester: along Route 590 off to Henrietta or along Monroe Avenue on your way to Pittsford Wegmans, you are not seeing things. These are not figments of your imagination. Rochester has been inundated by the Admiral Butterfly. These red-winged butterflies have been distracting motorists as well as Little League players in the outfield with their erratic flight patterns. Often, they flit through the air chasing another butterfly friend.
My kids and I counted at least 50 on the way to the orthodontist this morning and they look like this:
Rochester is witnessing the biggest population of these butterflies
Some have come to visit us as far south as Guatemala. Enjoy them, they will be around until summer.
Another visitor this weekend, don’t forget to look up at the moon Saturday night around 9, wherever you live and you may be treated to this:
Have a great, natural wonder weekend!
If you shopped at Pittsford Wegmans over the past 20 years or so (and if you live in Rochester, that’s most likely you) you remember his cheerful whistle.
Bernie the fish guy actually whistled while he worked, setting an example for us all to strive to be happy at one’s occupation every day. He only stopped whistling to greet you with a big hello and help you select the choicest cut of fish for whatever dinner you were planning for the night. He truly was the ambassador of the Wegmans fish department. Working at Wegmans was his second career. After owning his own fish market, he started working at Wegmans at age 71 and retired last October at age 89. He passed away this week at the age of 90.
Do you remember Bernie the Fish Guy?