In Remembrance

Where were you?

Nine years ago, I was in my classroom. Hannah was thrilled to be celebrating her birthday – she was nine years old! I took my third graders across the hallway to the computer lab, and the lab teacher broke the news to me. She was practically in tears.

“A plane hit one of the Twin Towers.”

At that moment, I couldn’t comprehend what she was telling me. Was she making this up? Was she exaggerating? Surely what she was telling me couldn’t be true.

I continued to teach that morning, cocooned away in my classroom.

During lunch, teachers crowded into the Principal’s office to watch the news on TV. Details were emerging, and the feelings of horror grew. What should we tell the kids? Should we let their parents tell them? Even though our our rural Midwestern community was surrounded by corn fields and not tall buildings, some parents came to take their children home early.

After school, I called my boyfriend, just to hear his voice and make sure he was all right.

The next day, Hannah told me how upset she felt. She was old enough to realize that September 11 would be remembered as a horrible day for a long time.

But it was her birthday. I tried to reassure her. She was a special girl, and her birthday would continue to be a special day.

Happy 18th birthday, Hannah!

Gazebo, Gazabo, Gazoobo

About a month ago, we came home from being away for the weekend, to see that our neighbor had been very busy. In his backyard he had built a frame for a gazebo. It looked like it was going to be a nice addition to their yard.

During the week, the unfinished gazebo sat there with a tall ladder in it, waiting to be worked on. The half walls were up, and so I figured he didn’t have that much work left to do. Surely building a gazebo would require a permit, but Ed and I didn’t see one in their front window.

The following weekend came, and our neighbor started working on the gazebo again. He started adding more walls and a roof. The gazebo started to look more like a little hexagon room with a window in each wall, and not like a gazebo at all.

Ed talked to him and our neighbor said that he and his wife like to be outside, but they don’t like the bugs. I can agree with that. I get bit by mosquitoes almost the second twilight hits. But still, it seemed like the gazebo was very structural. Much more of a room than a gazebo.

Soon he added real glass windows. Then I saw his wife putting up blinds. This struck me as a little odd, since they are meant to be spending more time outside in this tiny little room. What would it be called now? A Florida room? A summer house?

Today, I was working in our yard, and glanced into the “gazebo.” It’s very close to our yard, so it was easy to see inside. I had to look twice to make sure I was seeing what I was seeing.

They had put a television set inside. To me, this seems like going camping in a RV with air conditioning and a TV so you never have to set foot outside. Don’t get me wrong, I think RVs could be wonderful things. Ed and I spent 8 hours huddled in our tent when it poured rain all day long while camping in the upper peninsula of Michigan. There’s only so much time you can spend reading. Or looking at each other. We finally broke out of the tent not caring if we got drenched. I almost caved in and told Ed he could buy the RV he’s been begging me for.

I guess I just don’t see the point of building this room. It’s definitely a cheap way to build an addition to their house, but it seems like it will be really hot in the summer, and too cold in the winter. I looked out our bedroom window this evening (yes, I was deliberately spying) and I could see the Cubs game playing in the gazebo. Most of the blinds were closed. That’s really not spending more time outside, if you ask me. Not to mention that in our suburb it’s illegal to have electricity in a shed or “gazebo” that’s not attached to the house. I won’t report them, though. They are wonderful neighbors overall, and we get along fine. I don’t want to turn into that kind of neighbor. Still, this little room irks me…but I’m sure I’ll get over it while I’m sitting on my patio spilling my beverage while swatting my ankles.