Memories - grace grits and gardening

Beware. The Ides of March.

March 15, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

So here we are. March 15. Beware the day after Pi Day. Also known as the Ides of March. Methinks of Shakespeare, et tu? Because for whatever reason, that Ides phrase introduced in high school stuck. Unlike Pi.

Oh Shakespeare…

via morgueFile

That honey-tongued poet who gushed drama and imagery with each flowery word.

In 44 B.C., Julius Caesar was warned of the Ides (the 15th, the full moon). We remember how that prophecy of doom worked out. Thanks to back-stabbing Brutus, he never made it to work.

Mrs. Key, one of my favorite high school teachers, brought Shakespeare to life in English class. Trying to twist our southern accents around those words was as challenging as trying to learn French.

“What language is this?” we protested.

“English!” Mrs. Key, vexed by our confusion, flung her multi-colored four-inch heel across the room and into the chalkboard. She belonged to another time, another place, and was as dramatic as Shakespeare himself.

Mrs. Key, Rivercrest High School English

Beware the Ides of March. Eat leftover pie.

Grace Grits and Gardening

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” – Act I, Scene II, Julius Caesar

Do you remember making Valentine’s Day boxes?

February 13, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

a snippet from my book (coming soon)…

Other than snow days, the only wintertime excitement was our class Valentine’s Day party. In fifth grade, we nearly lost the privilege because we were so bad. At least that’s what Miss Friend threatened each morning before first recess. The thing is, we weren’t any worse than we were in fourth grade. Or third grade. Or any grade. We were always the same, just older and bigger.

The real issue was Miss Friend.

She had no control.

After lunch when Miss Friend was worn to a frazzle, she let us work on our Valentine boxes. This was pretty smart on her part. The girls could sit for hours and hours gluing pink and red pieces of construction paper to the shoeboxes brought from home. Sometimes Miss Friend even brought out the red and silver glitter—an extra special treat.

Even though the boys didn’t care one iota about their Valentine boxes, they were quiet too. They could sit for hours squirting blobs of Elmer’s glue on their fingertips, and then pulling it off like dried skin.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Musical Pairing:

Be My Valentine, Vince Guaraldi Trio

The Man with the Hyena Laugh

February 9, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

Daddy’s latest beer-drinking buddy almost permanently moved into the spare bedroom. For several days and nights he ate our food, smoked Daddy’s cigarettes and watched his favorite shows on our television. Even though his beady eyes and piercing hyena laugh made the invisible hairs on the back of my neck crawl, I politely smiled and waited. I knew Momma would eventually tire of playing hostess and maid. Sure enough on Tuesday night, Momma threw a hissy fit and declared his vacation over while he stood at the open refrigerator wolfing down leftover Sunday pot roast. But like a stray dog, a few weeks later he followed Daddy home again.

Grace Grits and Gardening