It's gardening weather.

I had no idea so much time had passed since my last post. Let's see ... finished my tenure at Dunwoody Nature Center, had a birthday, enjoyed the resolution of our long rezoning headache,  demolitioned some sad-looking plants in the yard, re-enlisted at DNC to serve an interim role during the transition from retiring Executive Director Claire Hayes until her successor is named, moved the garden box to the front yard (where there's actually sun most of the day), watched our son compete in his last Mock Trial competition for Dunwoody High School, sent several more checks to North Georgia College & State University for our rising Freshman, enjoyed the Student Showcase at Peachtree Charter Middle School, and wrote lots and lots and LOTS of copy for my wonderful clients.

Love writing. Love gardening. Love this beautiful, warm February week.

And now for a public service message.

Dear neighbors passing our home on the way to and from the path to Dunwoody Village:

PLEASE don't let your darlin' dog PIDDLE on my soon-to-be-planted bed of lettuces, radishes, and early peas. Yes, it's right at the edge of our yard, in tempting leash distance from your sniffing-for-a-good-spot pooch. But it's the only sunny spot in our entire yard. And I have high hopes for spring and summer crops. So please aVOID the temptation to let your dog  ELIMINATE on our vegetable garden.

A Farmers Market bike - what a great birthday gift.

Thank you very much.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Take a walk. Ride bikes. Explore the trails at Dunwoody Nature Center and Brook Run. Get outside and breathe. Just breathe.

Aaaaahhhhh.

Vroom, vroom.

This has been a very eventful week for the Knitternall gang ... all good.

• I took Adam to Mock Trial Law Academy at UGA. As an avowed Wolfpacker, red means NC State. Having to take my kid there was downright painful. The things we do as parents ...

• As for Law Academy, Adam is having a really good time. Favorite moment: last year, his competition role as Witness lead to an Outstanding Witness award when he devastated the other team's attorney. (Basically, the attorney's job is to impeach the witness; the witness' job is to stay in character, stick to the story, and mess with the cross-examining attorney.) At dinner the first night, he discovered the opposing attorney is at Law Academy, too. "You're that GUY!" As my son said, "kinda surreal, very cool."

• I recently took on a new freelance writing client, who has me working 15 hours a week on a 3+ month project. So when I'm not anchoring home base at Dunwoody Nature Center or teaching Preschool Phonics, I'm writing. Whew.

• Anna Grace was accepted to MidFest, the state level honor band at UGA. Yes, another kid going to Bulldog territory for a long weekend. But we didn't know she'd been nominated or placed until this week. Her band teacher decided to surprise us. Boy, did he. Big cost, big conflict. The date for the weekend? During Adam's Eagle Ceremony.

• Speaking of which, I've been designing the Eagle Ceremony invitations and program and getting things ready for the big day. I need a clone!!!

• T is still basking in the completion of a three-year certification (some highly specialized area of private banking equivalent to a master's degree). But, since he hopped immediately into multiple business trips, we've barely had time to celebrate.

This abundance of blessings has me somewhat bemused. The good comes like the bad, often unexpected and certainly not deserved. I'm giving myself the same advice I cling to when we weather storms: rely on faith and pay all grace forward.

Since I was neglecting my blog, I welcomed the high comedy of fellow bloggers. Dunwoody Talk has a stealth link inside an anonymous comment that had me ROTFL (kid speak - seriously, I don't text acronyms).  If anyone has been paying attention to the total "fail" of Dunwoody's new branding, visit this link:  http://bit.ly/bSFP51. I discovered that a little "d" with an asterisk is now the go-to logo for the city. I'm keeping an open mind. Some people love the abbreviated "insider" look (kind of like those oval beach decals that look like European city license plates - if you know what they mean, you belong). I just keep wincing.

I also got to hear a neighbor tell me one school board candidate is the best choice because the other candidate is a mommy and just doesn't have the time to invest in all the meetings and preparation and analysis needed to serve. Seriously? As a mommy who juggles three jobs, knits an embarrassing amount of yarn, is pretty involved in my kids' schools, manages one kid's chronic illness and neverending medical needs, and volunteers in several different nonprofits ... I have a feeling a mommy can multi-task and understand things just fine.

We're leaving shortly for UGA for the Law Academy's closing ceremonies. Another trip down Highway 316, the most insane drag strip I've ever had the misfortune to navigate. 65 miles per hour through stop lights and cut-throughs.

Vrooom.

Seventy miles!

The teen and I just finished his last required hike for the BSA hiking merit badge. We trod seventy miles on the Big Tree Greenway, over Kennesaw Mountain, around Stone Mountain, and through Dunwoody. His ever-present Crohn's symptoms meant he couldn't get too far away from facilities and medical support, so he got creative with his urban hiking choices. For today's hike, A chose to repeat his favorite, a loop around our little town.

We're both glad it's finished. But we're also a bit sad, because it's been seventy miles of mom-and-son time, a precious commodity in the busy-ness of his teen years. We've talked and we've walked in companionable silence. We've shared leg pain and a loathing of steep grades. We've ticked off each hike with great satisfaction and discussed the pros and cons of repeating a route again.

Bits and pieces of today's hike:

• While the pedestrian crossing on Mt. Vernon Road between Dunwoody United Methodist Church and the Michael's shopping center is CLEARLY MARKED, cars whizzed by us, even as we were IN THE CROSSWALK.
• We passed one of Adam's DHS Mock Trial teammates who called a cheery hello as she continued her run. That lead to a discussion of next year's case, and Adam's expectation that the now-veteran team will do even better.
  
• The sidewalk on Chamblee-Dunwoody between Dunwoody Knoll and the merge with Roberts Drive is really, really narrow. Particularly with overgrowth looming overhead. When we passed a very pleasant woman with a huge dog, she jumped into the lane of traffic so we could pass each other. Not a good thing.
• The sound of aluminum bats connecting with hard-thrown baseballs resounded over Dunwoody Park as we traversed its trails. I confess I prefer the sound of a wood bat. I'm so old school.
• While Abernathy Road undergoes the latest round of "improvements," the sides of the road are nearly impassible for pedestrians. We used parking lots and hopped over construction materials to get to the Perimeter Mall area. In New York, when they're doing something that breaks up a sidewalk, they build a temporary pedestrian pathway. Hello?
  
• I love the iron bench and bike rack perched across from the Fresh Market. It isn't a bus stop and it isn't a decorative accent for a place of business. It's there for walkers and bikers. I hope there will be more as time goes by.
  
• The jaywalkers from the office buildings at the intersection of Mt. Vernon and Abernathy roads have cut a path through the evergreen shrubs in front of the Chic Fil A. Rather than think that's too bad, I think it would be nice if an actual sidewalk were added because, for "legal" walkers along the sidewalk, it's a lot safer to access the restaurants there than trying to walk through the parking lot.
• Tinted windows make it really, really hard to see who's honking a greeting and who's just tooting a warning. We smiled and waved just in case.
• One of the reasons A loves the Dunwoody Hike is that his chosen route passes both Barnes & Noble and Borders. His backpack was much heavier on the return than when we set out.
  
• We were halfway through the intersection of Mt. Vernon Road and Dunwoody Parkway when someone leaned heavily on the horn, then burned rubber as soon as we cleared one lane. I guess we weren't walking fast enough.

The hiking merit badge was A's last Eagle-required badge. Now he's working on his Eagle project paperwork in hopes that he can do his project in the fall.

I'll be right there on the sidelines, cheering him on.

A Trial Run

The high school I attended wasn't wonderful. It was populated by an uneasy mix of rural kids straight from the farm and blue collar households and Air Force dependents who were rarely there more than two years or so. The teachers were lackluster, the principal was obviously uncomfortable with the whole 1970's culture, and the school had no AP classes whatsoever.

Nonetheless, I made the best of things, scored the grades, got the college acceptances, and moved on.

That's life. Make the best of the situation you're in. Find a way to shine. Don't fall into the blame game (if only my school was better, if only we could afford something better, if only I had a fill-in-the-blank). With initiative, focus, and hard work, much more is possible. (I didn't say anything is possible. That just isn't reality.) I don't think it's Pollyanna-ish to focus on the good. It's simply a matter of allocating energy to its best possible use.

Our son attends Dunwoody High School. He focuses on the opportunities and steps around the sublime lunacy of class schedule fiascoes, experiments in course offerings, and near-daily policy changes. There are many, many positives about his school: Stellar teachers who are passionate, creative, and caring. An athlete heading to Harvard because he's talented and smart. Students choosing four AP classes in a single block semester because they can. Talented scholars carrying demanding classloads and competing in cross country, tennis, swimming, Mock Trial, orchestra, band, and other programs as well as volunteering and cleaning out waterways and pursuing their Eagles and hiking twenty miles through the desert and working part-time jobs. College and scholarship offers pouring in.

Yesterday, the DHS Mock Trial team, in just its second year of competition, presented its case in two rounds and scored very high points as well as an impressive array of Outstanding Attorney and Witness awards. The team applauded the winners, cheered each other's accolades, and graciously headed home for homework and rest.

I am very proud of the students of Dunwoody High School. Each day, they give me more reasons to appreciate their energy, sense of fun, and hard work.

Extra effort.

What does it take to do something really, really well?

That irritating thing parents say to their kids is quite true: if you want something badly enough, you'll work harder to get it. There's no guarantee of success, but at least you'll gain some satisfaction in knowing you tried your best.

Take knitting. A novice can stay in the garter-stitch scarf mode forever. Never advancing technique to purls and yarnovers, avoiding stranded colors and slanted decreases to create cardigans and totes and socks and lace that are challenging to knit and a joy to finish and wear.

Or school. A' Mock Trial team meets for two hours, twice a week, a schedule that is just demanding enough to balance with school work. The teams he's scrimmaging with practice three hours a day, four days a week, in the months just prior to competition. Will the result be a more polished, confident team at competition, one ready to pick apart the nuances of the opposing counsel's arguments?

Or volunteering. In every situation where I've recruited volunteers, there are a handful of people who do more than just show up. They go "above and beyond," seeing needs and filling them. While they're filling shoeboxes with gifts and personal items for the kids at CHRIS Homes, collecting books for the 100-book library at a school served by Mountain Top, or cleaning one of the Interfaith Outreach apartments for homeless families in transition, some volunteers look around and see what else they can do. Then do it.

Extra effort does not promise success. It isn't always apparent. But extra effort leads to an inner satisfaction that is indescribable. And the best result of all.

It's crunch time for A's Mock Trial team - time for scrimmages and the build-up to the regional competition in February. (For some bizarre reason, the powers-that-be have placed Dunwoody High School in the Jonesboro regional rather than the Decatur one, which is geographically more appropriate. With a mandatory 5:00 PM Friday start-time, it's going to be downright hairy getting there after school. Ah, well.)

I love watching the team compete. They pull things together with aplomb, and show a better working understanding of the judicial process than most adults. Their attorney coaches, Curt and Heather, are the yin and yang of the profession, one who enjoys pushing the edge and the other who quietly goes after the desired verdict.

The case is interesting, and the teens are enjoying their roles. This time, A is an attorney for the defense, with responsibility for the closing argument and at least one cross-examination. Fascinating tidbit: cases are written with gender-neutral names so students can take on roles as needed. What's fun is during the trial, when each team has to remember the correct gender reference during opening/closing arguments and cross-examination. It's very easy to get tongue-tied when your 9:00 competition had a male as the defendent, then a female in the following round.

It's going to be a busy few weeks . . . with lots of time for knitting!

A giving week

I've had a lot of fun this week!

It's been a giving week, filled with memory-making and calendar-stuffing dates.

I've chaperoned a team of 6th grade brainiacs from Peachtree Middle School during their Quiz Bowl tournament at the Westminster Schools (a surreal place, by any definition), escorted my son to a Mock Trial practice at the Georgia State School of Law (cool), worked feverishly on piecing together 42+ 8" squares for a prayer blanket due for presentation this weekend (whew), consulted on the new church website design (yay!), prepped for the Square Foot Gardening classes at Dunwoody Nature Center (fun), and knitted a few more inches of a gift for one of the kids' teachers.  Add teaching my darling Preschool Phonics friends, working at the Nature Center, and the regular cycle of household chores, and I'm feeling a tad bit breathless.

I'd been thinking about things too much, focusing energy on worries about the economy, family health, finishing a few projects . . . much better to DO something. Service keeps my focus outward, so worries about the here and now flow deeper underground and don't consume energy and attitude. 

I feel much better now. 

Feeling Mellow

Last evening, A's Mock Trial team gathered at the Dunwoody Mellow Mushroom to celebrate the end of a really terrific season. Several of their parents joined the group as well as the two attorney coaches, Kurt and Heather, and the teacher adviser, Mr. Vincent. Nearly everyone plans to participate again next year.

I am very impressed by this group of intelligent, competitive, kind, fun-loving, committed teens. They support each other, enjoy each other, and reach out to each other. I loved watching them in action and can't wait to see what they accomplish next year. The parents agreed to work out a meal rotation for the weekly evening practices and the regional competition next fall and winter.

Way, way back in the day, I was a high school English teacher. I didn't last more than two years because the pay back then - $13,000 a year - just wasn't enough to pay bills and have a little left over for fun. So I shifted careers, took a job as a copywriter in an advertising agency, doubled my income in one year.

I'm still teaching - Preschool Phonics keeps me in the 4- and 5-year old world quite happily. But now that A is in high school, that siren song is calling once again.

Such a trial

The intense preparation is over. The Dunwoody High School Mock Trial team competed in two rounds yesterday at the DeKalb County Courthouse. Weeks of practice, fine-tuning arguments, preparing for objections and procedural questions culminated in absolutely stellar performances.

As one of the prosecuting attorneys, A took the opening statement and cross-examined two witnesses. He looked good in the unaccustomed suit and managed not to tug at the collar during the competition.

Favorite personal competition moment: the defense objected to one of A's questions to the witness, that it was "hearsay." A paused, thought for a second, then quoted the appropriate rule verbatim that would allow the question. Even A's prosecution team looked at each other in pleased surprise. And the judge ruled in A's favor. See, our guy is so reserved and shy that his performance in mock trial is an ongoing lesson for me in not underestimating him.

Most "are you kidding me" moment: in Round 2, the defendent impeached herself loud and clear on a key prosecution fact. I wish I could plug in an audio track for the DHS attorney's "Okay, then." Because the intonation makes it really worthwhile. The jury would have definitely found for the prosecution (but that isn't the point of the competition.)

DHS didn't go on to the final competition, but their scores showed that it was very close. Just points away from the final round! That's amazing, considering the school had a two-year hiatus in its mock trial program. We fielded a raw team, who had to mesh personalities and talents in a very short period of time. But thanks to super attorney coaches Curt and Heather, and talented teacher coach Mr. Vincent, as well as the students' own exemplary efforts and natural talents . . . DHS rocked.

Of course I knitted quietly the entire time. Hey - it was a really, really long day. Quant flowed off the needles to the point that I started and nearly finished before the day was over. I used a leftover ball of Yarn Treehouse's Rhythm striated wool. The colors flowed really nicely.

Note: we inadvertently were originally sent to the Fulton County Courthouse. Cranky punch-the-clock security, who really didn't want to deal with the hordes of teens descending on their courthouse. With a timely correction, we all made it to the Dekalb County Courthouse. Super-friendly security, who made us feel very welcome while ensuring we all followed security procedures. Both security staffs made it clear they were there to protect the building and occupants. But Dekalb does it with class.

And now it's Sunday. We're headed for the respite of church and there's a glimmer of spring in the birds' songs outside the kitchen window.