Because That’s What Moms Do

Sometimes after a long day and work has weighed heavily on me, I’ll look into a mirror and see my mother looking back. Not the bright, young, bewitching mom that I remember most, but the older, tired mother, made haggard by years of hard work and an illness that should have, predictably, killed her in her forties, but didn’t.

My mom was much stronger, much tougher, much more focused than I am, and there are many times that I will say, sometimes out loud, “Mom, why couldn’t you have given me that tough gene of yours?”

My mom was, at her core, a private and quiet woman and she wouldn’t be happy at all to know that I have written about her illnesses and struggles on here.

But, she would be glad to know I still write.

Because, my mom supported everything I chose to do … every direction I wandered in, no matter how weird and how awkward. Even when my dad disapproved, my mom trusted me.

That’s what moms do, right? Continue reading

Chris Davis Gets A Hit …

When I was young, but not so young that I didn’t know better, but, still, decades ago, I backed my mom’s beloved Chevy Suburban through the garage door.

It may not be the most embarrassing thing I’ve done in my life, but it is the one that I can think of right now.

It was not a good day. The electric garage door was mid-open when, in a hurry, I backed through it, wedging the door against the top of the car and the garage ceiling, mangling the door opener gears that were still grinding away, and bending the track. I had crushed things so tightly together that I could not back out or in without destroying the frame of the garage or taking the top of the Suburban clean off.

It took the better part of an afternoon to peel everything apart.

It was not inexpensive.

Amazingly … amazingly, then and amazingly, today … my parents didn’t get mad.  Well, not mad on the outside anyway. Accidents happen, they figured, and no one got hurt.

(If you knew my parents, you would know that this was not their usual reaction to such things.)

Embed from Getty Images

 

This brings me to the Baltimore Orioles Chris Davis who has spent many embarrassing moments lately not hitting a baseball in front of thousands of fans who expect more from a highly paid professional athlete. Continue reading

Bryce Harper’s Big Payday Got Me Thinking …

Do you remember the first time you got paid for work? Not a weekly allowance for washing the dishes, not the handful of ones from the neighbors for babysitting their kids (in a house filled with brazen mice who hid under the sofa in the daytime but came out after dark. Wait. That’s another story.)

Not those stuff-the-coins-in-your-pocket-not-really-a-job jobs, but a real job.

For me, it was Kmart.

I was Number 29. “Number 29 to the registers. Number 29.” My ears perked up like a puppy hearing car wheels in the drive whenever I heard that over the loudspeaker. They always called me first. Always. Because I loved being Number 29. And, I would race the entire length of the store and have my register open before the manager could call a second time. I loved being needed.

It was only for a year, maybe not quite that, from my senior year in high school until I left for college.

Courtesy Devils Lake Daily Journal, via Creative Commons.

It closed last year.

I still remember that first pay envelope. I kept it for a long time in a folder of important things. (Important things that my mother went through one day and threw out. Wait. That’s another story.) Continue reading

Turn It Off.

“More than 100 million people will watch this year’s Super Bowl. If you’re going to be one of them, and you care about the players on the team you’re rooting for, then don’t fall for the fantasy notion that fancy new helmets are going to protect their brains. Instead, support changes to the game that will truly protect players.” ~ Usha Lee McFarling

You knew I wouldn’t let Super Bowl Sunday pass by without my annual reminder that football is a vile, brutal, and unacceptably dangerous game. Also, stupid.

High-Tech Helmets Won’t Solve The NFL’s Concussion Problem

After the number of concussions in the NFL spiked dramatically in 2017, the number during this past season dropped by nearly one-quarter.

My favorite part of this story, written on NFL.com, is that the NFL was “startled” by the spike in concussions in 2017.

Really? That startled you? Because it didn’t surprise any of us regular people who have even the slightest understanding of what happens when your head is slammed into, say, the ground, with the weight of 300-pound lineman on top of you.

The NFL attributes some of the drop in 2018 to “advanced helmets.” And, they may be right, but when your game is still suffering hundreds of concussions each season, I’m pretty sure your “advanced helmets” aren’t advanced enough.

Or, as Pulitzer Pulitizer Prize-winning science writer Usha Lee McFarling wrote in the Los Angeles Times on Friday:

“No helmet, unless one is invented that can be inserted directly into the skull, can prevent concussions.” Continue reading

(You know who you are.)

A couple weeks ago, I reached out to let you know about last Saturday’s Open House at my Yoga Studio benefiting the Wildlife Center of Virginia.

I told you about the more than 3,000 animals they cared for this year. Including Cardinals. Blue Jays. Orioles. Cubs. (No Rays. Sorry, Tampa.)

I told you about last month’s destructive ice storm that did massive damage to the animal habitats, pens, and homes at the Center.

Alex the Screech Owl and the Center’s Outreach Director Amanda Nicholson came to the Open House. But, I knew that, because of place and distance, many of you couldn’t.

But, I asked you to donate to help this good cause anyway.

And, you did!

You really did!  My heart nearly burst with happiness when I learned of your generous and wonderful gifts.

Thank you.

But, for those who couldn’t attend, I promised more than just a thank you.

And, I’m keeping my promise. Continue reading

Open House To Benefit The Wildlife Center of Virginia Is Saturday, Dec. 1 In Orange

I’m taking off my Baseball Bloggess cap today to let you know about the damage that the recent ice storm did to the Wildlife Center of Virginia … and how we can help! I’m also delighted to invite you to my annual Wildlife Center Open House which will be at my Yoga Studio in Orange, Virginia next Saturday, December 1. Some of you are nearby enough to swing by — please do! And, for those folks who are a bit too far afield … but would still like to help … keep reading!  Thank you!

On November 15, a destructive ice storm hit Virginia. It did an enormous amount of damage at the Wildlife Center of Virginia.

Just one of the many damaged animal enclosures.

Thanks to the quick and selfless actions of the Center staff in the midst of the storm, no animals were injured or escaped … although several had their habitats and homes severely damaged or destroyed. There’s quite a rebuild ahead for the Center, and so our annual Open House & Yoga Class to support the Center couldn’t come at a better time.

The Wildlife Center of Virginia depends on the generosity of individuals like us to support their life-saving work. They have cared for more than 3,000 wild animals this year … and new patients come in every single day. They need our help more than ever today.

Athena the barred owl at last year’s Open House Continue reading

Goodbye Summer. Goodbye Adam. (I Think I’m Going To Cry.)

It was bittersweet, that last day of baseball.

If your team is still playing … and eight teams still are … well, good for you.  Your summer goes on, at least for now. At least for a few more days.

This note is not for you. (Come back later, ok?)

This is for the rest of us. Whether your team was good, but not quite good enough. Or, your team was meh.

Or, whether your team lost 115 games which put it so far below meh, that a meh season seems like something one should aspire to.

The Oriole Bird has smiled through all 115 losses. Stupid bird.

No matter what your team did last Sunday, if your team was one of the 20 that weren’t quite good enough to play this week, that Sunday was the end of summer.

The Orioles won that day. Continue reading

My Day In “The Sun”

Pop Quiz, Baseball Fans!

Which is more unbelievable …

a) The Orioles won last night!

It’s a win!

b) I found these snow booties in my size. On sale!

Adorable and On Sale!

c) I’m on the front page of today’s Baltimore Sun sports page.

Trick Question … Continue reading

Baseball Dreams, A Forgotten Hoops Star, & Sen. McCain’s Best Baseball Moment

Let me save you some time.

Here are three sports’y things you should make time for. And, one thing you shouldn’t.

First, shouldn’t.

When Sports Illustrated includes a recipe – and, I assure you, they do slip recipes into their magazine from time to time – don’t think, “Oh, look, Sports Illustrated has a recipe. How quirky! Maybe I should try it!” No. No, you shouldn’t.

What idiot would actually make a BBQ sauce with two kinds of mustard, some bourbon, and an awful lot of vinegar simply because Sports Illustrated published it?

Sports Illustrated has its place … in the kitchen is not one of them.

(Editor/Husband dunked a cracker in it and thinks it has potential. He is wrong. It is awful.)

So, before you go rushing off to buy bourbon (it’s not like you have any just lying around, right?) or to watch college football (which, I’m told, is a thing) … here are three things you should make time for. Continue reading

Worst Place

Editor/Husband thinks it’s important to tell you, before you go any further, that I had a migraine. He thinks this is the headache – and the headache sleep – talking. (Maybe. Maybe he’s right.)

A line of trees curved around the outfield. Trees where the fence would be. Should be. But, this outfield was lined only with trees.

And, in the trees, high up, with their legs splayed over the thicker branches like they were riding ponies, were men. Fans. All sorts of men, at different heights among the tree branches. Different ages, but none too young, and none too old. And, every one, with legs splayed over the branches. Tree riders.

And, some were smoking. And, some hadn’t shaved. And, each one held a rolled-up newspaper that he beat in rhythm – along with the others – against the branches, rattling the leaves. They all seemed angry. Or, maybe they were just irritated that nothing had happened yet in a game that had yet to start.

And, there was an umpire explaining the ground rules. Explaining them to me, perhaps, but mostly to the players.

Explaining why the third base line that ran in from left field, was not a line but a crick of running water. But, not quite a crick, exactly, but something narrower than that. What would you call it? Would you call it a rill? OK, that’s what it was. A rill. And, the water in the rill bubbled and ran from the left field line, cut through third base, and flowed to home, and continued past home, extending into a wide field well behind where the game would be played and out of sight.

Continue reading