Author: Susan Knoppow

Is God in My Seatbelt?

~ Susan Knoppow ~ Leave a comment

This Friday’s poem is a revision of something I wrote MANY years ago. The 4 year-old is now nearly 18. Her curiosity, fashion sense and religious questioning are still intact.

Is God In My Seatbelt?

Four-years-old, and she really needs to know.
I pause, mid-buckle; running late
for preschool. We have been talking
about how God is in trees and fish,
her baby brother and sunflower seeds.
But a seatbelt? I don’t know.

Tell her yes,
says my rabbi friend – some smart person
invented the seatbelt,
and God was in that person.

I bring it up days later, but my daughter
has moved on to other things –
like which bracelets match flowered socks
or how to keep a headband on a stuffed tiger.

She nods gravely, humoring me for being slow.
What I really want is gum, she tells me.
Can I have some while we drive?

Favorites

~ Susan Knoppow ~ Leave a comment

Joe and I hatched the idea for  Friday poems over coffee in Ferndale one afternoon. Let’s just write, we agreed. No comments, no praise. Just send a poem every Friday. See where it takes you.

favoritesThree months into the experiment, I’m hooked. Even when I put the piece together just before lighting Shabbat candles or grab a stanza from three years ago and polish it into something more presentable, the Friday poem always refreshes me for the week. It reminds me that I’m a writer.

Here’s this week’s contribution, composed in a parking lot between a doctor’s appointment and Josh’s archery day camp awards ceremony.

May all your favorite bands stay together
– Dawes, “All Your Favorite Bands”

May you get to the bottom
of the strawberry box
without a single moldy surprise

May you catch a firefly
on a balmy night full of fireworks
over the wide green golf course

May you finish your favorite book
sprawled across the hammock
in that shady spot behind the garage

May your dog snuggle
close in your bed
without hogging the covers

May your chocolate chip cookies
emerge from the oven
with crisp edges and gooey centers

May you hear “I love you”
every day of your life
the way I mean it this morning

The Great Hamantaschen/Latke Debate Comes to Detroit

~ Susan Knoppow ~ 1 Comment

Instead of a sermon, we made the congregation laugh.

Last Shabbat morning, I participated in a mock debate on the relative merits of latkes versus hamantaschen.

Hamantaschen Recipe
I skip the prune filling. The notes reflect many years of experimentation.

I proudly defended the cookie, while our rabbi argued in favor of potato pancakes. In our small congregation, the debate was well-received – a dose of fun at the end of a long week.

If you’re wondering who won… Of course it was the hamantaschen. I mean, is there even any real contest?

Want to see what we both had to say?  Here is the text of the debate.

Chag Sameach!

A Letter to My Professor

~ Susan Knoppow ~ 2 Comments

Dear Bob,

You have probably seen this New York Times column already, but I wanted you to know that even 30 years later, when I ask myself Frank Bruni’s question, “What’s the most transformative educational experience you’ve had?” I think of your freshman seminar.

I’ve often tried to describe the mash up of psychology and philosophy you called “Identity, Alienation and Freedom,” but my descriptions never do it justice. Continue reading →

Running in the Dark

~ Susan Knoppow ~ Leave a comment

The text messages started at 5:06 AM: wind chill is minus 3. sorry I’m staying in 😦

Mechelle was out, but Renee and I decided to give it a go. Three of us run together on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Call us crazy, but we’re dedicated. Just knowing that someone is waiting under the streetlamp at Newport and Hart is usually enough to get me out of bed at 5 AM. weather

Mechelle sends weather reports on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. Lately it’s been too crazy cold for all of us. Renee draws the line at single digits, while Mechelle relies on wind chill. I’ll try any temperature once, just to see if my strategic layering works. Continue reading →

New Year’s Eve

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The boys in the basement woke up with their own alarm. Sammy and his friends had plans to see “The Hobbit” at 12:15, and despite getting to bed excruciatingly late, they didn’t want to miss the movie.

Six teenagers ate a quick breakfast and got out the door the morning after our almost-annual New Year’s Eve party.

new-years-eve-times-square When the kids were much younger, we staged elaborate early ball drops.

Around 9 p.m. we told them it was already midnight on some obscure island in the Atlantic Ocean, then counted down like Dick Clark in Times Square. Dinner happened in shifts: kids ate early, followed by games, crafts and confetti. After the early Happy New Year they changed into pj’s and settled in for a movie while the adults ate a leisurely meal.

This year was much more laid back. Our potluck featured three types of pasta, but no one complained. Adults took their time with dinner; the last thing our kids needed or wanted was our attention.

Before the guests arrived, Sammy had one important question: “What about the ice cream sundae bar?”

Continue reading →

Welcome to Chateau Delicieux

~ Susan Knoppow ~ 2 Comments

The finger guard is my new favorite kitchen tool; it keeps you from cutting off your fingertips while chopping carrots.

knifeUnfortunately, my fingers are too big for this stroke of genius, which arrived with the child-size chef’s knife and peeler from Opinel.

When your ten-year-old starts debating the relative merits of opening a bakery or a full-service restaurant, you know it’s time to buy him a serious knife. But first, he had to promise to learn to chop onions (which he has since learned to do, wearing swim goggles.)

A few weeks ago, we had a serious talk about the realities of the food world. “You know that you have to love food and business to make it as a restaurant owner, don’t you?” Continue reading →

Summer Camp

~ Susan Knoppow ~ Leave a comment

Day 1, and already I forgot to feed the dog.

That’s what you get for teaching your children to take care of the family pet. When they leave for camp, the poor thing gets ignored.

“Are you going on vacation while the kids are away?” friends and neighbors ask.  “A romantic getaway?”

“Better,” I reply. “I’m going to work as much as possible.” Continue reading →

Boys on Bikes

~ Susan Knoppow ~ 1 Comment

When I pointed out that it was raining, Sammy laughed. He was headed to the library on his bike. Rain? Whatever. He needs more manga comics, and a little drizzle won’t hold him back.

It’s been that kind of summer –- my two boys, out on their own, riding around the neighborhood. Sammy is nearly 13, so he has crossed major thoroughfares on the way to his volunteer job at a preschool day camp, to drum lessons and the library. He’s already plowed through most of the manga in Huntington Woods; at this point he’s branching out to Royal Oak.

The first time Josh left for camp on his own, I jogged by the rec center to make sure his bike was at the rack. I mean, what if I didn’t find out till 4:00 that he hadn’t even made it? The next day, I didn’t check. He is 9, and he looks both ways at the big downhill intersection with the giant wall of shrubbery. I figure he’s as safe as a fourth grader in a safe neighborhood can be.

I feel free, maybe almost as free as they do. I am forever letting them go – one inch at a time, one block at a time, until they leave home for good.

Sammy will return with a sack full of books.  In a few days, he’ll go back out for more.  I’ll make dinner while he’s gone, and while we eat it, he can tell me about his day.

Swings

~ Susan Knoppow ~ 3 Comments

The problem with being a writing teacher is that sometimes you forget to write.

Or maybe that’s my problem with being a writing teacher. I like to believe my colleagues find time for their poems and essays, carving out precious minutes at 6 a.m. or after everyone else goes to bed.

At 6 a.m. I’m running through my dark neighborhood.  At night, I sleep. In between I work and shop for groceries and make sure everyone gets to music lessons on time. Except for a few lines in my journal before bed, writing moves to the back of the line – behind the dog, behind camp registration forms, behind laundry and doctor appointments and scrubbing tomato sauce off the stove. Continue reading →