Village Green/Town²

This is a happy little stop sign. It's happy because yesterday road crews from Howard County ame and trimmed away all of the plants growing on it. There's nothing more energizing than a good haircut, eh? I drive by this sign almost daily, and I've been watching it slowly taken over by vines. Yesterday morning, when I went over to photograph Pete's SnowBalls, I had an idea. I snapped a picture and posted it on Facebook. I received a response from Candace Dodson Reed in less than a minute, telling me exactly what to do, with follow up from Regina Clay. By the end of the day, it was fixed. I posted the picture because I didn't really know what department was responsible, and because I knew I probably knew someone who would know. It turns out that I did. And the reponse time was awesome, I must say. But that's not the only lesson I am carrying away from this.  There's more. Not only did this matter get handled within the day, but I also was given information on ...

First in line was a rather rumpled, portly fellow, early thirties, scraggly facial hair. Not at all an impressive sight, yet I overheard him speaking to the woman politely as she completed his order. Next, a young man in his early twenties with Downs Syndrome, clearly able to walk over, place an order and successfully handle the change of money, and return home. It was a nice afternoon and I didn't mind waiting in line. It was my last stop after running a bunch of errands, and it was a treat for myself: a watermelon snowball at Pete's. If you're not from my side of town, you may never have been to Pete's. Here are some reviews , one from the great hocolocal HowChow himself. Here is a lovely hymn to the joys of Pete's in blog form. ( Scroll down to the end.) Here is a picture of Pete's. If it lacks appeal in this shot, that is because this was taken this morning at nine am when Pete's was closed. What's missing from this scene i...

(Noun)  1. waste of time - the devotion of time to a useless activity; "the waste of time could prove fatal"     waste, wastefulness, dissipation - useless or profitless activity; using or expending or consuming thoughtlessly or carelessly; "if the effort brings no compensating gain it is a waste"; "mindless dissipation of natural resources" --from Free Dictionary.com So, the test scores go down in Howard County. You can read about that here . You can read the Superintendent's piece on it here . You can read a thoughtful interpretation on HoCoRising here . In short, test scores went down because what we are teaching has changed, but the tests haven't. I have seen a variety of points of view on this, but not the one I care about. Here goes: Under these circumstances, taking the old MSA's was a waste of time. Yes, I know that assessment is required by law. "They had no choice." But still, I want the weight of this to s...

Last day at the beach has its traditions. Breakfast at the Royal Treat. Rushing around to buy treats to take home: chocolate taffy from Candy Kitchen, caramel corn from Fisher's. Something new in the mix this year: Alice is taking Margo to get her first henna tattoo. Last day at the beach. What did I want to do that just didn't happen? An evening walk on the beach with Richard. Flaming coffee at the Back Porch Café. Riding a "surrey with the fringe on top" bicycle on the boardwalk. Tropical frozen cocktail with a little umbrella. Last day at the beach. Is what I *didn't* do what's important? Are the things that got away the things that should define my trip? When I look back, do I want to dwell on what didn't happen? Wow. It is tough to overcome this mentality.  Let me go back for a minute to the Church of What's Happening Now. It takes some readjusting. But then it comes into focus: laughing and joking in the car, overcoming fear in the water, watchin...

We interrupt this vacation with an important message about healthcare. Yes, healthcare. Because it is, of course, while you are out of state on a long planned family trip that you will be awaiting lab results for your child. And of course they will indicate that she needs twenty-eight days of antibiotics and you left home without your insurance card. Thanks to the ease of cell phones, we can talk to the pediatrician at length. Thanks to computers, she can send the prescription information to a local pharmacy at the beach and it will be ready within hours. Thanks to our health insurance we can afford to pay for it. But wait--we left the card at home. There was no easy fix for this. We had to pay the full cost of the medication: $148.00. We can submit the receipt when we get home and hope for reimbursement. Now, we're lucky enough to be able to swing this, but there have been times in my life when I couldn't have done it.  As I walked around the CVS as my husband paid for the pre...

In the summer of 1986 I was about four months pregnant and visiting Rehoboth for the first time with my in-laws and our best friends from college. My first husband and I were young, relatively broke, and grateful for an all-expenses paid vacation. I hated Rehoboth almost immediately. I had grown up swimming in Lake Erie and on Cape Cod, where there was no developed boardwalk. When we moved to Connecticut, our beaches on Long Island Sound were equally boardwalk-less. I was used to beaches in their natural state with no commercial development accompanying them. That was what I wanted: beach, shells, smooth stones, dunes, beach grasses. I was not a happy camper. Still, I was completely unprepared for what was to come. I was twenty-six, pregnant, and a wave took me out in a matter of seconds. I was less than five feet from shore, with water up to my knees, and suddenly--boom--faceplant. I was stunned. I tried to get up and couldn't. As the water pulled away from the shore, it sucked me...

You know you have picked the absolutely best spot at the beach when the lifeguards set up their chairs directly in front of you. It is both the Good News and the Bad News. Good because we will be the very safest swimmers in the water, bad because, well, really, it's blocking our view.  Ah, well... I am low to the ground in a beach chair, bare feet in the sand. I'm shaded by an umbrella, a mild breeze is blowing, and the sound of the waves is at the center of everything. At the moment, in this moment, nothing else matters. George and Alice are in the water, Richard and Margo are shopping for sand toys, and I am here, stationary, like the center of a clock from which the hands are turning, like the spokes of a wheel. I spend a lot of time in real life feeling like I am caught up in the spokes, spinning in the whirlwind of daily events and too much information. Spinning without forward motion or progress. How restful it is to be still. Comedian Flip Wilson created a character who ...

I'm trying something a little different and taking the blog on the road. We're headed to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware for five days of family frolic. Five people, one minivan, too much luggage, four stuffed animals and a box of Lucky Charms.  The last item is an important vacation ritual we took on from my sister's family. She never bought junky breakfast cereal, but she did allow her boys to pick a box for long road trips. Invariably they would pick Lucky Charms. We don't buy Lucky Charms at our house because its stereotypical "Irishness" sets my husbands teeth on edge, but we make an exception for vacations. Someone always seems to pick out and eat just the marshmallows... My mother used to make us individual car bingo games for long trips. (She always had a spiral notebook and a ball point pen with her when she traveled.) Her car bingos were mind-bogglingly challenging. I'm not talking a stop sign, a truck, and a gas station here. I'm talking quonset hu...

Something exciting is going on at Howard County's Farmers Markets this season. I'm sure you know you can get fresh, locally grown fruits and vegetables. You may have even bought plants, flowers and herbs. Now you can get meat and cheese, breads, baked goods, Thai sauces, coffee, wine and--violin? Yes! The Farmer's Markets have added live music this year! I stopped by the Oakland Mills Farmers market recently and enjoyed fabulous violin playing while I shopped. I must admit to a home-village preference for the OM Market. Karen Gray and Sandy Cederbaum were instrumental in bring the market back to Oakland Mills, working with Howard County Economic Development who oversees the Howard County Farmer's Markets. The market grand opening was on Tuesday June 6, 2006. In 2007 the market moved to Sundays and it has been a very popular market ever since. Now, how did I know that there was going to be music? Well, because I follow the Howard County Farmer's Markets on Facebook, ...

Howard County has some pretty amazing women.  Although there are plenty of days when politics and blogging feel like a man's game, the fact is that women are making themselves known. There are plenty of role models for my two daughters in our community. I am relieved and grateful that there is no war on women going on here!  I'm not going to list these exceptional women because a) you probably already know , b) a list is boring to read, and c) I would most likely leave someone out and that would be dreadful. Now, I have been lucky enough to have lunch with some pretty cool ladies in Howard County. As I'm a rather shy person, and I work during the school year, it isn't a very large list and therefore manageable for a blog post.   Mary Kate Murray--the woman who started it all for me. Here is someone who inspires people to share their gifts, plain and simple. She was instrumental in the Oakland Mills revitalization process, started our Street Captains program, and created...

I've written before about our corner store. Our beautiful, brand new Walgreens opened a few short years ago and it has been a great addition to the Village of Oakland Mills. I'm guessing it is a great convenience to guests and employees at the neighboring hotel, as well. The store is clean and well-stocked, the property is well-maintained, and none of the predictions of doom spread by its detractors have come true. There's just one thing that troubles me, though. A whole group of people that I had never before seen in Columbia suddenly started appearing once the Walgreens opened. Not people like me--of course, that wouldn't trouble me--nor African-American and Hispanic classmates of Margo's, or their families. Not the general mix I see at the Food Lion and around the Village Center. No, these people are different. Their appearance both intrigues and upsets me. They are the working poor. In some places they'd be derogatorily dismissed as "White Trash." ...

I wasn't really paying attention last night as I finished up one craft project and plotted the next one. Then I found myself drawn in.      @LukeHoCoTimes: At presubmission meeting for new development #ColumbiaMD Warfield neighborhood, new mixed-use development to be built near @MallInColumbia Cool! Luke was live-tweeting, so I hopped on for the ride. I noticed tweets from other interested parties, notably @kirstycat1209 and @kevxb. I really appreciate clear live-tweeting: all the benefits of attending the event without actually having to be there. Plus, you can share information with your friends simultaneously without being rude. The meeting was divided into a presentation followed by Q and A time.  @LukeHoCoTimes: and let the Q & A session begin! First up, Alan Klein #ColumbiaMD I began to laugh. You know, that crazed, will it never cease laugh. The shake-your-head and want to disbelieve it laugh. Oh, Dennis, Dennis, how you would have loved to to do the play-...

At around six pm last night I took a walk somewhere I had never walked before. I've been putting it off, I'll admit. It's not exactly a welcoming path. You feel isolated. Closed in.   You wonder if you are really safe. It seems crazy that Columbia is divided like this: a highway runs through it, and nothing to unite it but rust, peeling paint, and cracked cement. Columbia deserves better. Do you want a better bridge? I do.  We need to help our community leaders understand how this bridge will serve not just the areas directly on either side, but will be a valuable link in ongoing plans to connect residents from Blandair Park to Howard Community College and Howard County General Hospital. Columbia has many beautiful pathways which are lovely for recreational use. Bridge Columbia takes this one step further by providing a pathway to get people where they need to go: to work, to shop, to study. The Bridge will improve area transit times, save fuel, and create a safe and appeal...

I didn't know. I was raised as a liberal Democrat in Northeastern Ohio by two Unitarian parents during the 1960's, and I didn't know. I didn't know there was more than one way to be patriotic. Patriotism and love of country meant intense pride in our democracy. It meant gratitude for our freedoms, especially freedom to learn, think, speak, and worship as we saw fit. It meant choosing one's own destiny, not dictated by an inherited social class. It meant that hard work and intelligence could open doors. We had a belief in the ingenuity and perseverance of American scientists and inventors, admiration for Americans in the arts, respect for craftsmen and laborers. Being American to us meant acceptance for all. Patriotism meant accepting those who were different. My family cared a lot about civil rights, the war on poverty, tolerance for those of different faiths. Freedom was meant to be shared; the great American experiment called all us to be inclus...

One of the concerns frequently raised when I was running for Oakland Mills CCR was that of abandoned homes, neglected and ill-kept homes. Some folks had experience in dealing with the Village Residential Architectural Committee, some had not. But the overall feeling was that the system we have in place is not working as well as it should. As residents, my husband and I went through the RAC process when we installed replacement windows in our home.  The company we used did not offer windows whose edge-frames matched others in our neighborhood. So we had to file an application for permission to have windows with beige frames. We even got a sample to bring to the RAC meeting. We were treated courteously by the committee. It was clear that they had come out and looked around our neighborhood, and talked to our HOA management in making their decision. They approved our application and we were on our way. As a member of the Oakland Mills Board, I participated in hearing...

I grew up in a world without central air conditioning. I also grew up farther north than where I am now, in north eastern Ohio, but we still got heat and some humidity in the summer. I do remember sleeping with a fan at night. I loved fans. My mother would aim it at the ceiling "to move the air around." As soon as she left the room I would aim it directly at my bed. Cooking in the summertime was a chore. You didn't want to heat up the kitchen if you didn't absolutely have to. My mother had a repertoire of things she would make early in the day, when it was relatively cool, and then chill. These were things we pretty much ate only in the summer time. I remember tuna-macaroni salad, potato salad, devilled eggs, pickled beets, three-bean salad, jello salad with fruit. She made spreads from leftover roasts: ham salad and roast beef-horseradish spread. Some nights dinner was "salmon salad." Everyone got a plate with iceberg lettuce, tomato wedges and hard-boiled ...

On July first, 1967, I was living in Columbus, Ohio. We lived in a newly-minted subdivision called Essex Place, in an area called Upper Arlington. We only lived there for one year; my Dad's job there was a disaster and we were back to Cleveland before school started in the Fall. But my memories of that one year are vivid. I can pretty much lay out for you what was happening on July 1. I was riding my bike around the neighborhood. I was quenching my thirst with Orange Crush out of a glass bottle. My best friend's dad was helping him build a treehouse on an empty lot and all the neighborhood kids were helping, facing their fears as we learned to climb steps nailed into the tree, up, up, up... I remember going for walks around the neighborhood after dinner and hearing some high school kids playing rock music in the family garage. Yes, it was a "Pleasant Valley Sunday" sort of neighborhood.We played for hours in the dirt and mud of an as-yet undeveloped lot, building hous...