Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Biking at Pennypack Trail - Babysitting Max Atticus

We just got home. This is yesterday. I of course wore sun screen. There's a RR crossing. Down went the gates. Scott made it thru.

I waited as the train rushed by.

The communal bath house. 

Lobster bisque from the Giant.

From their hot bar... they're mean meat loaf! Steamed veggies.

This morning - what a long day this has been - I used my Wawa gift card and selected a fairly good b'fast.


Dedicated to Teresa Forstater

They like to kill you, said a
man dashing across the street
to the WaWa

Ya got that right, says I

His tallness Matthew showed me how to
order on the touch screen, scrambled
eggs, and a croissant with butter

I ordered the coffee, finally finding
one that was hot and steaming
I poured cinnamon into it
lots, then carried it like triumphant
Queen Guinevere to the cashier

At table outside in the breeze
I sipped the coffee, then opened
my eggs, still steaming hot
Gathering everything up again
I walked back into the Wah
Where are the (frigging) utensils
I asked

And found them, a shiny black as
in a fine restaurant, carried
all back to my table again
Sat me down and chowed down.
My early morning breakfast
at the Wah.


You'd never know we had flash floods and lightning earlier today.

I was at Copies to Go.

Couldn't remember where it was so I was driving round and round and finally remembered.... right across from the Willow Grove post office.

Sure enuf, there was Ibrahim. This is an earlier pic of him.

My ND stationery is running low, so decided to get copies of it.

When it was time to run out in the rain, I asked Ibrahim for a box to put over my head, which did the trick. I walked swiftly over to the PO where I'd parked my car.

 I needed to be at Dan's house to babysit for my 3-yo grandson Max.

Was pouring when I drove over. Edge Hill Road had loads of puddles. SPLASH, right in the kisser.

Got to Dan's right on time. Max was very impressed that I wore my rain hat, which I keep in the trunk. I also brought my salad lunch. Max identified the broccoli.

As Dan left, Max asked if he could go to work with Dan.

"When you're five," said his dad.

Max was fine with that.

Mostly we sat at the kitchen table and talked. He was watching his iPad, talking along with it and singing. I'll write a little poem about him.


He enunciates every word.
He wants to be understood.
He talked about Briar Bush
nature park, where he saw
an armadillo.

Strange, I thought but said
not a word, thinking of all
the armadillos in Texas
that never made it to
the other side.

I like snakes, he said. And
wanted to go outside to
see his ants.

His parents were buying him
an ant farm. Had he forgotten
about the last one, where Dad
poured in too much water
and they drowned?

Snakes he loves. I talked
about creatures that live
underground, like wiggly

Yes, he's seen them. I mentioned
that when there are holes in
the ground - yes, he's seen the
holes - animals live down there.

The blind mole, I started to
say, when the sun came out
and shone across the big
back yard.

I began to sing the Itsy-
Bitsy Spider, but got the
words wrong, so he sang
it the right way.

The SEPTA train whizzed
by in the far back yard, beyond
the woods and the bamboo.

I jingled my car keys, with
the red caboose on the chain.

Max, I was at the library, you
know, where Mr Jim tells
stories. I took my keys
out of the car but they
fell down a hole next
to my seat.

They fell down a hole,
he said, with the
amazement of an
astronomer discovering
a new planet.

He was very concerned.
Very concerned.
I went into the library, I said,
and borrowed a ruler, and
very carefully inched my
car keys out.

Into the Playroom we went.
I'm moving Grace's things
off the table, he said.

Was this allowed? Would
Bubby get in trouble and
never be asked back again?

Out came the Play Dough.
Let's open the Black one,
he said. Black? I looked
aghast. A Mark Rothko
at such young an age.

He insisted on settling
himself into a chair,
a tiny toddler's chair
while I sat, barefoot,
on the floor.

Wanna feel my cold feet,
I asked. He shook his
head no, as he pressed
the Black into shapes
and then the two shades
of blue.

The front door flung
open. MAX! I missed
you, said Mom, carrying
bundles of bags.

I stuck around a while. Grace
was all smiles from her
kindergarten picnic, and
they put their heads together
thinking of something
to do.

Are you coming, Bubby?
asked Max. You know,
I said. There must be a
Mr Barnes and a Mr Noble
maybe they're 100 years

Not 70, said Grace, like you!

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