Things I'm wondering about:

Does God burp? (courtesy of my 2nd grade class) If he does, I'm quite sure he always says, "Excuse me." And people always do.




When will Connecticut be warm? And when it's warm, will it be past my 80 degree heat threshold? And if it is, will I complain?





Why do kids have to learn how to write in cursive? I won't accept any plausible answers.





Is it possible to eat chicken three nights in a row? We'll find out tomorrow.





If you can't sing well on earth, can you sing well in heaven?





Will the new book I'm reading, Jodi Picoult's House Rules, be less depressing than all her other books I've read?





Will I be able to recharge my laptop on the train to Virginia?






Will Benjy miss me next year when he's in 3rd grade?





Will I miss Benjy?! (kidding - it's been the most amazing blessing to teach my son this year.)





What was my sister thinking the day she died? Did she know how very much I love her? How very much I respect her? In spite of my jokes and snarkiness??? Did she have any idea how much we all love her?





When will Girl Scout cookies be fat-free and low calorie and still taste the same?





What are you wondering about today?

Mom has a memory of Daddy puttering in the back yard. He was planting tulip bulbs in the small stretch of space between the old railroad cross-ties that served as a retaining wall for as long as I can remember. She remembers him pushing them into the soft dirt, making over them like they were his babies. Skinny, blue jeaned Daddy, leaning over the earth, planting a promise.

And then he got sick again. The doctors sliced into his throat and stole his cancer infected larynx, leaving him mute with helplessness. Then they fired doses of radiation into his neck and injected poison into his veins to kill the cancer cells swimming free. They tried. They tried so hard to save him. But a year without Michelle and a voice that wouldn't be heard left him with little left to live for. He slipped away, even as we prayed for him to stay.

Daddy found his voice again in the fall. He found his voice, blood fresh with life, and healthy cells moving to the drumbeat of God. He found himself in heaven, and we found ourselves crying on earth, longing to hear his country words of reason and a pathetic joke or two. The winter was long. It was cold. It was snowy and without a light we'd come to depend on. After a winter of dusk, spring crawled in.

The earth tilted more pleasing to the sun. Grass greened. The Bradford pear and dogwood blossomed fresh and white. Something green and new uncurled between the cross-ties. Without warning, pink tulips spoke. Look at me. Look at us.

Mom glanced out the window. She heard the sound. The voices of tulips whispering in the wind. Look at us. We were planted by the loving hand of a man in love with God. We were born of the earth, nurtured beneath the frozen white. We were breathed on by the hope of tomorrow and the promise of today. We are a gift from the man with the weary hands. His voice, fragrance pink and beauty full, wants you to know. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

You probably know that if I could vote for Stephen Colbert for president, I would. What I'd give for a State of the Union address by Colbert. I'd stay up to watch that. Yessiree, I would. Applause and all.

One of the things I love about Colbert is the On Notice board.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
On Notice - How the On Notice Board Is Made
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog Video Archive

And I figure if he can rant about about what's dead to him, then I can, too. Of course, I don't intend to run for president. And it is my solemn disclaimer that any On Notices I post will not detract in any way from a Stephen Colbert candidacy.

ON NOTICE for me this month are:

snow: There are still patches of it around my house. And the Connecticut River is set to flood with all the snow melt arriving from the north. I was completely enthralled with it during the winter, but now it's spring. As of today. And they're calling for snow tomorrow.

time changes: That whole thing last weekend nearly killed me. First I spent all Sunday on the wrong time. I even ventured to Aldi's and walked toward the entrance and away four times waiting for the doors to open for me. They remained closed. I thought perhaps I was on Candid Camera. I was not. Turns out, it was 6 p.m. and I had 5 on my watch.

cancer: My dad's birthday was on March 5, but those stopped in 2009. Cancer may not be gone, but it's on notice.

Sarah Palin: I know many of you adore her. She is certainly perky and lives in beautiful Alaska, not a stone's throw from Russia. She's quite lovely as carbon goes. But frankly, she annoys me. I can't get past the feeling that she's a fake. I would like to see her pop up on The X-Files one day.

plastic flowers: You can't fake nature. We used to have these neighbors two doors down. Harry and Betty. They were a funny couple. Plastic flowers dotted the front yard. Harry swore that aliens landed in the back yard, so he'd stake it out on days when his neighbor Allie was sunbathing. To this day, that's what I think of when I spy plastic flowers.

rhinitis acuta catarrhalis: Camden has a cold. Benjy seemed to be the first to get it. But Camden came home from a weekend trip to Vermont with it all sneezing and coughing and dripping out of him today. Bad cold.

censorship: I just hate it when somebody decides my children shouldn't read a book and takes it upon himself to ban it. I can decide for myself what is appropriate for my kids. Long live Harry Potter!

I nearly put Charlie Sheen on my On Notice list. But he's such a has-been, that it just seems redundant.

Gratitudes:

171: fat-free Pringles taste just as good as the real thing

172: holding Benjy's hand as we walked to Kohl's and back, to Target and back, to the house and back, to Evan's and back to his bed. I kissed my baby goodnight and tiptoed to my room.

173: miracles ~ an 80-year-old woman and her grandson rescued after 9 days turmoil in Japan

174: Emma, licking the sofa, beside me.

175: freedom to live in America where I can blog as I please, worship God as I do, live as He calls me

176: grace

177: shamrocks opening to the sun

178: shoes sans socks

179: lesson plans done just in the nick of tiime

180: family together, safe and sound

I'm seeing green up here. I knew that if I ventured out to Stop and Shop, my local grocer, I'd find some form of shamrocks. These aren't the real deal, but they're what I wanted. Aren't they beautiful?










And this beauty is a book from a thrift shop I picked up today simply because I love the color. And the texture. I paid $2.99 for GREEN and CLOTH. And it was worth it.











I bought this book because it had a pretty cover and the lovely golden award medal screamed "BUY ME!!!!!!!" That's a no-brainer, I tell you.















Mr. Richert found this doll for a mere $8. We'd have dropped 10 times that if we'd bought it new. I swear, I was leary. But by the time he'd scrubbed it clean, I was satisfied that the heat would kill any unwanted germs.










My friend Laurie gave me a gorgeous plant just like this years and years ago. I've long-since killed it. :( Finding these today just puts me in the mood for spring.

Lots to do this weekend,
not the least of which
is laundry.

















Gratitudes:

161: Overheard in second grade today:

"When I get to heaven, if people don't know how to play football, I'm gonna teach them."

162: Bible study tonight focused on Bob Barnes' book Who's In Charge Here? We loved hearing from other parents who are right there with us trying to be the parents God has called us to be.

163: Devotions this morning at school reminded me of God's calling to demonstrate love to my family and friends. I'm thankful for the reminder to do more, to do better, to reach out and show my love.

164: I talked to my BFF Jodie last night. Her sweet voice will lift me up no matter what.

165: I've lost five pounds in the past couple of weeks. My jeans feel much better.

166: Today Camden popped into my classroom to tell me something. Then he paused, thought for a second, hugged me, and disappeared. I love that boy.

167: In spite of our battered mailbox, which lost to the snow plow, I saw even more grass around town today. It wasn't green, but still, it was grass.

168: I wouldn't trade my job with anybody in the entire world. Not even the iPad packagers at Apple.

169: My dog loves me every single day when I come home. And only after I've petted her and talked to her will she ask to go outside.

170: While my cat could not care less if I'm here or not, he seems to be a blessed beast.