Digger Trucks

There's something magical about trucks that takes my grandson, Ronan away in his imagination. Mail trucks, construction trucks, garbage trucks, and even my husband's Silverado parked in the driveway.

But his favorite construction truck is an excavator. He loves to sing Blippi's Excavator song. You can listen here. Beware, it is catchy!

Awakening from his afternoon nap, on the days I watch him, he pulls to his feet, stares at the window and points.

"Grampie's truck,!" he says loud and clear.

So our routine begins. I lift him to a nice, warm, sleepy hug. Then, parked on my hip, we make our way to the window. As the shade rises, Ronan blocks his eyes for a minute, "Bright light," he confirms, while I slide the window open.

And for a while, we just stay there, feeling the air, listening to birds and talking about Grampie's truck.

"Grampie's Truck!!!" he repeats with a big smile. "Drive it!" he adds. I chuckle.

Photo by Jerry Spar /Hopkinton Independent

Garbage truck days are awesome of course, but our favorite recent activity is pulling into the parking area across from a construction site near me, and watching the 4 excavators scoop and pour their loads into dump trucks. I imagine we could spend the day there with no problem.

Needless to say, as his birthday rolled around, I wanted to give him an excavator. And with Halloween around the corner, Pinterest did not disappoint, giving me quite a few ideas. Armed with a black foam core board, a few boxes from "Green Chef," an Exacto knife, and duct tape, I was off.

I even found some push-on lights for the front, which were the biggest hit!

Cousin play

As you can see, he eventually warmed up to it. I'm not sure yet if he will actually step into it and wear it with the construction vest and hat... but what can you expect from a 2-year-old!

Ronan's construction birthday cake

This morning, in honor of Poetry Friday yesterday, I wrote an excavator poem for Ronan.  Enjoy!

Check out this week's Poetry Friday offerings at our host, Linda's blog, Teacher Dance. Thanks for hosting Linda!

One Man's Trash ...

Behind my art table, tucked in a grocery bag, I found them— no longer needed, but still holding the memory of the object they protected. Several cardboard tubes, once holding Christmas wrap, and five unique packaging pieces made of egg carton material. Most people would have discarded them without a thought. For at least a year, they sat waiting in a grocery bag, waiting for their next role.

But, moved by their form and texture, I paused. Imagination stirred. These unvalued pieces of packing seemed too unique to throw away.

Realizing my stash was overflowing. I finally set a goal to recycle the abundance of things I had collected. I grabbed the grocery bag and began pulling them out.

But something made me stop.

I wondered if someone in my family could use them for a Halloween costume? A robot, perhaps? Or a local art teacher as material for a student's collage? Maybe offer them free on a local website...surely someone else would see the value in them,

The more I held them and brainstormed, the more I fell back in love with them. As my finger felt the texture again, tracing each bump and valley, ideas stirred. I grabbed a sheet of foam board, some old burlap, and began playing. Quicker than I thought, an idea came together.

Before I got the glue gun heating, I started thinking of how these cardboard pieces were found and how they were almost lost to the recycle bin. The poem for this yet-to-be artwork began to pour out.

Don't you love it when that happens? Here is the poem, just in time for Poetry Friday!

Everything has value, even things we think are trash can become beautiful works of art.

Follow me on FB @cathystenquist to see how this project unfolds. Can't wait to get started!

FYI- and If you're in the area today, 9/27/25, I will be reading my poem, "The Stirring," at the TRUE GRIT GALLERY in Middleborough around 2:15 pm. Come check out the poems that won and the art created from their inspiration.

38 Center Street Middleborough, MA 02346

And be sure to check out this week's Poetry Friday Round-up at: The Poem Farm, with host, Amy Ludwig VanDerwater for an assortment of lovely words to brighten your day!

Perspective

Forty-four years ago, I looked into the eyes of my beloved, and said "I do" to everything; the known, the unknown, the laughter, the tears, the challenges, the sorrows, the celebrations, the worry, the pain, the joy.

It was a dream come true for a young girl now grown, that had started years ago, listening to the love stories of ...

my parents...

...whose nuptials made the society pages of the Chicago Tribune.

and my grandparents. I loved the bouquet of Lily of the Valley. How divinely that must have smelled!

I imagined my wedding day— had it fully scripted out. After a glorious wedding, we would take off to some tropical place without a worry in the world, just my beloved and I. After a week or two, return to our sweet little apartment and begin our life together.

But sometimes, life has other plans.

I spent the ride over consoling and reassuring my father, who was unusually "misty."I remember just the two of us behind the church doors, my hand holding tight onto his left arm and thinking I couldn't wait for them to open.

The wedding was indeed glorious. I was as content, peaceful and happy as I had ever imagined, with each promise made.

Our reception went well with plenty of friends and family, and joy. I especially love this photo, L-R: My father-in-law Ralph, my mother, Nancy, and my Uncle Don. I wish I knew what had been said and what brought on the laughter.

But sadly, my father-in-law passed away that evening from a massive heart attack. We spent our wedding night in the emergency room, and then mourning with family till late in the evening. Our honeymoon turned into a memorial service.

I recently wrote a poem about the deep emotions I felt, waking up the next morning.

While this chapter of our love story brought forth the promise of sharing sorrow and grief way sooner than I expected....

The lesson of "the repetition of gray melting to yellow," the hopefulness of life going on, that broken hearts do heal, stays with me always. With every Good Friday we have endured, there has always been "an Easter," though it may have taken some time for us to see it.

My greatest gift from September 19th, was beginning my life with such an amazing man. I am still in awe that he loved me, chose me, and saw in me things I couldn't see in myself. I have been a better daughter, sister, friend, wife, mother and grandmother because of his love.

Happy anniversary, my love!

Happy Poetry Friday, everyone.

Check out the round-up at Jama's lovely site.

You'll find some fun to read alphabet-inspired poems to share with your kids.