Welcome Back Thunder

It still strikes me as odd to go to baseball's opening day in June, but here we are again in Trenton as we once again host the Draft League. I'm grateful that after the Yankees moved their AA team to the Somerset Patriots that we still have baseball, but I miss the longer season, sipping hot chocolate at a sparsely attended game filled with people who go to watch baseball instead of going for the junk food and entertainment.

I love it when Rookie and Dash take to the field to bring the bats in, but I also love a good double play or home run hit. 

It also doesn't feel like opening day when I've already been to two games: one in Buffalo and a Mothers' Day game in Allentown, PA.

I still love going to games at Waterfront (I mean Arm & Hammer, I mean Trenton Thunder Ball) Park. Built about 30 years ago, the stadium was designed to feel like an old-fashioned ballpark. After climbing a lot of stairs (or taking the elevator) you enter the concourse before descending ever closer to the field to take your seat. My favorite sections are 105 and 106, behind the first base (home team) dugout. When Thunder was still affiliated with the Yankees I got to know some of the season ticket holders. I also got to know some of the staff. Even though thy play in the city of Trenton, I always feel safe walking back to my car. I grin and bear it as I drive past Cadwalder Park, but have never had a real reason to be nervous.

Now that they only play a short 80 game season (with half of them at home) with players that rotate on and off even faster than they did when they were a AA team, the attachment is to Boomer and the bat dogs. Serious ball fans still see some magic happening on the field. Each year they seem to have fewer season ticket holders. Even I dropped my ten-game pass.

Opening Day was packed. With the shorter season, and starting so close to the end of the school year, more groups are packed into each game. The first game had three parades before the game, Stuart Country Day School singing the national anthem, another group singing "Take Me Out to the Ball Park" during the seventh inning stretch, multiple birthday parties, and other large groups. A rally towel was given to the first 1,030 fans (I was too late), and coupons for WAWA coffee given out as we exited. There is a lot happening.

I went alone, which is my preference. I just want to watch a game, not have conversations. The first inning saw Thunder bring ten batters to the plate -- yes everyone went at least once. There were many walks and not a lot of strike outs. The opposing pitcher just graduated from high school a couple of weeks earlier in Texas and was heading back home to college before the end of the season. This is just a great place for them to play more ball.

Even with a 5-0 lead, the other team managed to tie things up. It was a little dicey in the bottom of the 9th inning, but the home time scratched out a season opening win. This level is more about player development and less about wins and losses, but the fans still like a win. Well, maybe not those who left after the seventh inning stretch because the game was stretching into its fourth hour. That's a lot of baseball, even for me.

Rookie

Tommy the bat boy is back!

Dash

Boomer almost caught a ball way up there!

  

Trying New Things

Semi-retirement is leaving me with some free time to explore new skills. In the past few months I have taken classes in roller skating, pysanka eggs, photography, and hula hooping. While I can taking pictures while roller skating, even Angela, my hula hooping teacher, has not mastered hooping while skating.

Roller skating

A few years ago Lawrence resident Jaclyn started TrentonSk8s. I met her a few years before that when she said she wanted to learn how to skate. She invited me to join her on some skating field trips as the closest rinks are at least an hour away in several different directions. For one reason or another I did not take her up on it -- too far away, too late at night, I was already busy, etc. etc. Jaclyn not only went she made new friends and embraced the skating culture. Through her I learned there are differences between North Jersey and South Jersey skating styles (yet something else our tiny state can argue about along with Taylor Ham vs. Pork Roll). The past few summers we have met in Cadwalder Park in Trenton. The past couple of falls and winters we met indoors at our church. With construction happening "any day now," we were encouraged to find a different winter home. First Presbyterian Church of Trenton came to our rescue. For $15 a class, Jaclyn taught us the basics. Due to my foot problems, I did not go nearly often enough, but I did learn the importance of loosening the wheels to be able to move more freely and how to make "bubbles" both backwards and forwards.

Pysanka Eggs

This was a one-day class taught at our church. The class felt rushed, but the lessons taught have resonated with me throughout spring and into summer. Use the negative space to help create something beautiful. Order matters. Uncover the hidden beauty. Relax. Take the time to figure out what you want it to look like in the end. Understand mistakes happen and incorporate them into the finale. There is no perfect way to do something. Each one is different. Each one is beautiful. You can do this.

Photography

In February I signed up for a three-week class on taking better pictures with my DSLM camera. The class was held at the Princeton Adult School, located in Princeton High School. It was taught by a Lambertville photographer who teaches this same basic class in a few different places. I learned to move away from IA and shoot in Aperture Priority (A). Cameras these days adjust a lot so the triangle shifts. He showed us tricks for manually changing that -- scary stuff! I did learn some things, but the best way to learn is to keep taking pictures. I met a friend, Erin. Through her, Don and I decided to drive to Buffalo to see the eclipse. I wish the class had opportunities to move around the building and practice what we were learning, but he does offer those types of classes. Much of his advice was about how to crop a picture, and I didn't always agree with his suggestions. It was nice to get out.

Hula Hooping

This week I finished a six-part class in hula hooping. Don took the class during the pandemic at the senior center. While I could have taken that class, I wanted to take it outside. We both had the ever-enthusiastic Angela. She is full of encouragement. To her everyone can hula hoop, the problem is with the hoop not with the person. On our last week (I missed 1.5 classes), I used a different hoop and the pieces fell into place. Angela is great about teaching people at different levels. At least half of the class had taken hooping before and were moving with an ease and grace I did not see possibly happening for me. I still have a long ways to go, but there seems to be hope for me.

Only one week did we have to seek shelter

Lots of space

The last week

Angela brought the fun stuff for the last class

Angela

David Brearley 5k

Lawrenceville is a wonderful place to live, but if I were to add anything it would be to have a 5K race that brings the town together. Plenty of towns around us have races, but there is an extra level of magic when you known many of the participants. I felt some of that magic Memorial Day weekend at the 46th annual Spring Lake 5-miler. Back in March when I heard the Lawrence Historical Society was planning to hold their first annual 5k on June 8th I marked my calendar.

Then I waited. And waited. And waited. In mid-May I thought about taking the date off the calendar and making other plans when I heard the race was on! With a registration fee a mere $15, and a start time at a pleasant 8:30 am, I signed up. I even convinced Don to sign up.

The narrow path was well marked

There was much confusion about the race. We knew it would be along the canal, but would they really make us run along the narrow path that leads from the Brearley House to the canal? One person said yes, another said no. Yes was the correct answer.

With the last minute notice to everyone but those in the know, would they really get enough people to sign up? They were pleased with the 25 registrations. Any more and they would have needed to pay police to help manage the crowd.

Don and I turned the race into a duathlon by riding the tandem to and from the starting line. 

The weather was lovely. The fastest person finished in 16 minutes. The last person finished just under an hour. Both were happy with their times. The race started with a loop through the grass, which separated us just as the "spiral of death" does at RunBucks races. Half a mile after starting we were on the towpath, which we shared with people taking walks, biking, running, and otherwise enjoying the day. It was sunny and in the upper 60s, a tad warm for serious runners and perfect for fun runners and walkers.

The halfway mark took us to the Port Mercer Canal House where two junior historians were conscripted (not too often that word gets used!) to hand out water. 

I chatted off and on with a man comparing notes about our choice of footwear (he is in the Brooks camp, I am team Nike). Don started strong, but fell behind me before we reached the turn around.

As I'm still babying my foot, I was pleased with my sub-40 time. I do want to get stronger, but that will involve more running and less walking in my intervals. Right now I'm working on being able to finish with a smile on my face.

We all won our age categories!

Why oh why did I think biking to the race was a good idea? Fortunately biking is Don's strength and he was able to catapult us home.

The organizers

All done!

2024 Spring Lake 5-Miler

This Winter Don and I finished decorating the space we consider to be my office. My nest. My retreat. My hiding space. What should be my writing space, but hasn't turned into that. 

As I rearranged the medals and reminisced about each race experience my hand held the 2015 Spring Lake medal a little longer than the others. It was late January. I knew the traditional date for signing up for the Memorial Day Weekend race was coming up on Super Bowl Sunday. I also knew my foot had been hurting for far too many months.

Could I do it? Should I do it? Our traditional family Memorial Day Weekend party was on hold because Ashley would be traveling. As I held that medal not knowing how many more weeks it would be before I could run I decided to make it my stretch goal. The goal I told the doctor and the physical therapist as I healed. They both said it would be fine if (yes, if) i planned to run/walk it and not go all out. A week later I shelled out the $65 registration fee.

It ended up taking until mid-April before I was cleared the run. The race was a scant six weeks later.

On the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend I woke up at 5:30 am, and drove an hour to Spring Lake, NJ. Don and I did a test drive earlier in the week when we picked up my sheer white t-shirt (why, or why do they insist on sheer white t-shirts?), and my pint glass (which I use for water). For some reason they had a shipping case filled with 2023 merch they were selling at basement bargain rates, so I scooped up a cap for $1, a sapphire blue shirt for $5, and a pair of bright blue tech socks for $5 to help support the cause.

Nine years ago when I ran the race Don came with me and parked the car. This time, thanks to his new job working at REI, I was solo. I wasn't as adventuresome with parking and ended up much further away than I had hoped. On the drive there I heard Rick Steves's weekly segment on NPR talking about going to Croatia, so I considered that a win for waking up so early.

I made it to the start line with 12,999 of my new friends. My biggest complaint about the race is that while organizers tell us to line up according to the time we think we will finish, they give us no guidelines to do so. Asking around I thought I found my people. What I learned as the race started was that there were numerous groups of people walking the race, stretching out from one side of the street to the other. I am thrilled they are getting out there. I am happy they are raising money for a cause, or simply enjoying friendship. I knew I would be run/walking, but I didn't need to add that I would be playing offense for at least the first mile.

I also came across two people strolling and talking on their cell phones. Really? Move out of the way!

As my longest training run/walk had only been for 2.5 miles, I was pleased I could run/walk the first half of the race. I power walked the last half (at a much faster pace than those talking on the phone or walking six abreast).

I know I'm coming across grouchy, I'll add in a few compliments. 

They seemed to have more bands performing along the route. One group said they came from about 30 minutes away. I assume others were paid to encourage us.

The race is very friendly for all levels of runners -- the fastest finished in 23 minutes, 45 seconds. The slowest two hours and three minutes. I was in the middle at just shy of one hour seven minutes -- I was aiming for a 13 minute pace given my foot issues, so I was pleased with myself.

They had water at every mile mark. The volunteers were friendly and encouraging. Scratch that ... EVERYONE was friendly and encouraging. I shared my encouragement reminding a man hobbling worse than I was that we were here because we wanted to be. He appreciated the reminder. I hope he enjoyed the rest of his day.

As I hobbled to my car, I talked to people who have done the race nearly every year. They didn't know why there was so much swag left over from last year. They ran the race. 2020 and 2021 were cancelled. 2023 had a couple of hundred less runners, but not enough to justify the leftovers.

The weather was stunning ... 50s at the start, warming up to the 60s. Slight breeze, but not windy. A beautiful day to be outside.

We want to return to see the progress
they made on this house. It is being raised.

Showing Up

Showing up has been a recurring theme for me recently. Last night I read "The Amen Effect." One of its chapters was about the importance of showing up for the celebrations for those you would make time to show up for their funerals -- a concept I tend to think of in the converse. Today after showing up to hear an acquaintance read from his book, the concept was drilled home again while listening an NPR article talking about the importance of (you guessed it) showing up for people.

The pandemic made it hard to show up in person. Some people were better than others about calling or mailing care packages. I had prided myself on showing up when friends perform or preach or put themselves out there. I've done it so often it is second nature to me. I do admit I've my feelings have been bruised when the people I've shown up for don't show up for me, but that's a different post.

Today I showed up for Henry. During the pandemic Henry contacted me through Karen Miller's Open Door Publications book publishing business. At the time he was looking for someone to edit his book, so Karen encouraged me to talk to him directly. A year later when he was ready to publish his book, I pointed him back to her to finish the job. Henry takes our annual Christmas newsletter, makes comments on it, and sends it back to me. I feel my face light up whenever his name appears in my inbox because I know there will be some humor, and nothing negative. Nothing at all serious, though if he did send me a message with something serious in it, I would welcome that he trusts our relationship has moved to that level.

Henry has a quirky sense of humor. His memoir, "What's Cantonese for Mazel Tov,"  begins with his daughter Sarah dating and falling in love with Mr. Lee, eventually making her Sarah Lee. Today I learned some names and other details were changed to protect the groom's family, which actually saddened me a bit.

Back to today.

I arrived for his 2 pm memoir class at the Center for Lifelong Learning at Rutgers University. I was a little nervous about finding the place since Rutgers is enormous, but the building was located just off of the intersection of Route 1 and Ryders Lane, a part of campus I had not visited before.

I didn't know what Henry looked like, so I made small talk with some of his classmates before class started. One woman admired my RipSkirt and, after I extolled its benefits, said I deserved a commission for talking her into buying one. She liked that it looked as good in real life as it does in the FaceBook ads. Ah, my kind of person.

Another audience member told me I should just start writing a book. Take the story out of my head and get it on paper. Seeing me write notes (which I sadly left behind), she asked if I had a pen she could borrow. 

Another kindred spirit 

Today was the culmination of their work -- an opportunity to read their work in front of an audience. Their teacher, Deborah Greenhut, has been helping them get started. Keep going. Figure out what to keep. Figure out who should read it. Through one on one Zoom sessions, she worked with her students to create something they were proud of.

There were ten people on the list, and a bonus one that was added. One presented via Zoom. One could not make it. The rest brought up their work and with mostly shaking hands, and rushed voices, read their words for the first time in public. A couple had read already, and had more confidence.

The first person was a plumber whose book starts with comparing Plato and Plumbing. They have more in common besides both starting with the letter P. At least two people wrote about living in Iran. One was from China. One is from Princeton -- if I had kept the sheet of paper, I would have looked her up on Linked In to connect. One, the man who was added to the list, is a professor at Rutgers. He replied so early the teacher (apologetically) did not start the list with her. Many were retired. Most wrote memoirs. The woman on Zoom wrote about physics. 

Memoir writing is about feelings more so than facts. It is important to carry the stories forward so they are not lost.

It starts with showing up.

It continues with filling blank pages with stories.

Creating My First Museum Exhibit

In April I was asked to create a pop-up exhibit highlighting the Voices of Ewing project I have been working on. Nearly five decades ago members of the Ewing Township Historic Preservation Society began interviewing people. The technique has not been consistent, but it has been something. Over the decades the storage of the interviews changed as technology advanced. Most of the "advanced" technology of the day, including cassette tape and video tape recordings, are fairly useless today and should be brought up to date, as well as have a printed transcript because paper transcends technology. Though paper can be fragile, stored properly it is easier to read.

The task was to look over old interviews and make a poster. I chose the format: a picture (when available), their name, date of the interview, a brief description of their life, and a quote that reflects some Ewing history. 

Recognizing people don't work at my pace (mostly because we are all volunteers with lives), I suggested holding off and doing this properly for the October event. My request was denied.

As the deadline neared (and life got busier with graduation), the task became more structured. As anyone reading this has worked on a group project, I'll spare you the frustration of being someone who sees a deadline and bumps it up a couple of weeks to be able to gracefully handle the inevitable curveballs working with people who thrive on finishing the project at the last minute. After repeatedly being told I could hand it off when I was too busy to work on it, I did just that.

Deep breaths.

Let the criticisms wash over me.

Did you see the typos? I made all the changes I was given, did you proofread in a timely fashion? 

I don't like the color scheme. Black background would work better than grey. Hmm, I remember saying the same thing when I was told grey would be better.

The supplies I needed to hang the exhibit properly didn't arrive in time. Hmm...that's why I suggested ordering them earlier.

More deep breaths.

The end result for June turned out to be a temporary exhibit. It was hung crookedly 15 minutes before people arrived using painters' tape which was good for preserving the new paint job, but not necessarily strong enough for the boards. Those board will be edited and reprinted. As more interview are collected, more boards will be created so the room will fill.

I'll admit, they did their job, which was to highlight how we are using the interviews to highlight Ewing's history. We had a board that said: Your Story Here and a sign up sheet for more interviews. A priority was made to order a camcorder to be used solely for this project. In the past we used digital recorders, our phones, a borrowed camcorder, or simply pen and paper. Having future recordings in one place will be a great step forward. Of course we should all recognize within five years this great technology will be considered outdated, but for now if we can record more stories, transcribe them (using transcription software), and keep them in one place it will be a great step forward.

Four Years as a Mule

Last weekend Ashley graduated from Muhlenberg College. Three days later I'm taking some time to reflect on the past four years, and graduation weekend. Right now, at this moment, the pandemic both seems like something out of science fiction and a newly reopened wound. Reading what I wrote as she started college really brings back those feelings.

The feelings started as Don and I spied on the candlelight ceremony (which we knew was only open to students). Muhlenberg prides themselves on upholding certain traditions. Ones that are passed down from class to class so no matter when you attended the school, you are united in these traditions. I'm under the impression since our graduation, our state school alma mater has created traditions future generations will share -- including running through a fountain that wasn't there in the early 1990s.

Candlelighting is one of only two times the entire class is together. The first happens during their very night on college. The second is during the last night before graduation. It was one of the traditions we learned about during a zoom session when Ashley chose to go to Muhlenberg. In August 2020, it was an impossible dream so they gave everyone a glow stick and told them to put it in their windows at a specific time. I'll try to find a picture to show the sad looking glowstick.

I'm glad we eavesdropped on candlelighting. The speeches were more genuine than the ones at the formal ceremony for parents and families. I believe it was the senior class president who quipped, "we are the only class to have the campus to ourselves!" in reference to how at the start of freshman year only first year students were allowed to live on campus (plus select upperclassmen). Jenna, the campus chaplain, spoke of their resilience to surviving the altered reality when they started college. On the positive, they were the only class to be able to have cars on campus all four years and have singles as freshmen. The downsides included virtual classes, wearing masks everywhere, assigned showers and bathroom sinks, the constant threat of being sent home for breaking rules or because COVID cases rose, not having help moving in, having an assigned time to move on and off campus, partitions in the dining hall, isolation if you caught COVID, etc. etc.

Despite the pandemic, or perhaps because of it, Ashley made wonderful friends. The people she bonded with her first few weeks of college were the ones she still hung out with her senior year. Some joined sororities. She didn't. Some studied abroad. She did. Some others, like her girlfriend Anna, joined the mix, but the core group remained solid, and I expect will be lifelong friends. 

Freshman year she roomed with Abby. Abby's mom shared on the parent FaceBook group (something else that came about because of the pandemic) that the girl her daughter was going to room with was not moving to campus in the fall. She was also into theater. I connected her and Ashley. Turned out they had a lot in common. Fast forward three years and they were in the same duplex senior year. 

Sophomore year was better. Muhlenberg created SOAR (Sophomore Orientation and Reconnection) as a way to give back the traditions they missed out on the prior year. Candlelighting was one of these traditions, along with a trip to Dorney Park (a local amusement park). They also had the athletes help the sophomores move in (of course some of these athletes were sophomores themselves). The only time the campus photographer captured a picture of Ashley was at candlelighting. Due to the rain, their candlelighting ceremony was held inside the Empie Theater rather than outside. The next day (or a couple of hours later?) the Class of 2025 had their candlelighting ceremony.

Abby moved in with the person she was supposed to room with freshman year, and Ashley roomed with Molly -- someone from her floor. This weekend Molly commented that she and Ashley have had the same hair length throughout college. 

Sophomore Year

Junior Year with Greg

Senior Year with Hannah

Junior Year went by in a blur because we knew she was leaving in a few months to study abroad in Italy. Ashley and Molly shared an on-campus apartment with Greg. The apartment was in such rough shape it made the school paper because the ceiling was falling in. "Campo" was able to patch it enough that they could live in it until December break. Ashely and Greg went to Italy. Molly stayed in the apartment by herself the following semester.

Senior year was also a blur. All of a sudden it was time for graduation and moving home. By the time she stepped on campus in September 2023, COVID was already a distant memory. Traditional normal was around, instead of the "new normal." People still caught COVID, but they took it easy and wore masks. There were no longer any threats about being sent home.

During Senior Week, the Class of 2024 could (and did) celebrate the milestones of past classes. They had a senior ball, with at least one of them (Ashley) wearing the gown they bought for Prom and has sat unused for four years. They hung out with their professors. They took pictures together. They were finally able to relax. After finishing high school in isolation, I am grateful that had that time together. 

I'm also sad the Muhlenberg Class of 2020 missed out on those experiences. Once lost, the memories just cannot be regained.