Lovely, rainy Saturday

The usual hope is for good weather over a weekend. Today, I'm glad it's raining. My day is more laid back when the rain is falling so I need no excuse to keep my nightgown and robe on longer than usual, one of my little sinful pleasures. Today has been exceptionally quiet so I didn't dress until almost noon, and then it was to head to my shop to make some necklaces for the bakery gal's shop. I deserve a day like this, and I'll tell you why.

Having a student teacher brings clarity to my job as high school English teacher. Her presence - like the catalyst in science or in literature - causes me to react sooner and yet with more thought to situations that arise on a daily basis. I know I have to do things correctly...by the book, so to speak...to maintain fairness which is part of my identity as a teacher, but this year I find myself going one step further to make sure that what happens as a result of my actions is what "the book" says will happen. Usually I can do this on my lunch break or during my prep period, but not this year. "Lunch" is at 10:35 a.m. and that's when I have to gear up for my ->difficult<- class, making sure that there are at least three different parts to the class and that I have enough copies of anything needed. What's supposed to be my prep period is consumed with conversation between the two of us about what to cover, how much time it'll probably take, ways to assess student understanding of material, etc. She still observes most of my classes as she sits in the back of the classroom writing her daily reflections and marking the papers from the one class of mine that she teaches. That leaves after school to do my follow-ups, if I don't have a meeting of some sort. Lately I've had some extra following up to do because of a few students in The Class, and Friday it finally came to a head. I'd submitted write-ups and provided photocopies of inappropriate work, I'd sent the kid out of class when he refused to remove the boxing gloves he chose to wear in class ("My hands are cold and I have no other gloves") and then he used profanity and made sure I heard it, and I expected administration to handle the situation. To me, it's been important to establish some degree of control because my student teacher is apprehensive about taking over this class. Well, it didn't happen as it was supposed to, so I ended up essentially on the warpath for an hour after school. How can I expect to hand over The Class - along with the other four classes that run well - to my student teacher unless I know she has a chance of surviving with the support of the administration?

Gina and I have hammered out her schedule until Dec. 11, her last day, so we know when her four-week solo period with full days of classes will happen. I do realize that part of her learning is seeing things from behind the teacher desk as they really are, but I don't want her to completely lose faith in The System because there are a few gaping holes in ours. Yes, she should be aware that teachers constantly have to go with the flow and expect interruptions and curves thrown at her. But she should also have reason to trust that the rules will be supported and the atmosphere in the school will be conducive to learning for students who want to learn. That's what I'm trying to ensure, both for her and for my students. Some days I'm worn out from the effort.

I'm taking a break from worry about school until Monday morning. I have to put it away and give it a rest. One way of doing that is taking the time to enjoy the creature comforts of my life away from school. I made four necklaces today and did some sorting and organizing out in my shop. I ate an apple from the local orchard and tossed the core into the woods as I walked down the driveway. I changed the bed sheets, inhaling the scent of the sunny day when the fresh ones hung out on the line. My lunch was a whoopie pie....at noon. I finished three crossword puzzles and two cups of coffee while snuggled up on the couch under a fuzzy throw. I went out and took three more pictures of the beautifully shaped maple tree in a nearby cemetery. And I enjoyed the ticking of the clock as I responded to personal emails. As I said, this has been a lovely, rainy day.

Finding the answers

People seem to think that teachers know all the answers. Some even think that teachers hoard the answers, unwilling to share them with others until just the right combination of words or events happens along to unlock their self-storage locker space of knowledge. Not so, my friends, not so. Life holds lots of mysteries, many of which are beyond this teacher to unravel or decipher, and a few that I can actually resolve, usually with some help. That help can come in the form of another person or some written piece of wisdom, but sometimes it's a matter of time and letting the old gray cells work, and then paying attention to what they say.

One of the questions I've voiced, at least mentally, in the past few months is Why am I here rather than there? Sometimes it's a question with very specific "heres" and "theres" and at other times the terms are quite general. On the surface, the answers sometimes seem to be simple, "You signed a contract and you have a JOB, dummy!" being one of them. And sometimes I know the answer but I just don't want to acknowledge it, so that's a case of, "Grow up, darlin, and smell the coffee." But in thinking more deeply, I realize that I am - as most people are, I suspect - right where I'm supposed to be, when I'm supposed to be there. There's a reason why I was at the kitchen window a few weeks ago when the young deer were out in the yard and I had a chance to see them. There's a reason why I was in Belgium last year and why I'm here this year. There's a reason why I was in the office yesterday when a friend trying to be strong couldn't hold herself together for a few moments. Those reasons don't always become apparent right away, but eventually some of them become clear, and when they do, I feel a lightness that's hard to describe. It almost feels like I carry around the things that are unresolved like so many pebbles (or boulders, sometimes) and each time I become aware of an answer that I seek, I'm enlightened in several senses of the word: that "I get it!" light bulb over my head goes on, and the load of pebbles becomes lighter. So today, on this glorious autumn Saturday, I'll go to watch a high school football game, and I'll enjoy where I am while I'm there and be happy, knowing I'm where I'm supposed to be. And now I'll have one less point to ponder and one less pebble to carry.

A year ago...

One year ago right now I was in Belgium. Right now I sit in the glow of sunrise in central NH wishing I could have repeated the visit.

Last night a colleague, my student teacher and I went to the local university to hear Donald Hall read from his current book Unpacking Boxes and to have him sign our copies. He's mellowed a bit in recent years, having had a stroke and living alone on the family farmstead a dozen miles from my house. He's let his beard and hair grow, he's given up tweed wool jackets for a rumpled Hawaiian shirt, and his thin hands shake as he signs each book handed to him. On the other hand, he'll be 80 years old tomorrow on what the governor of our state has proclaimed to be Donald Hall Day in honor of his substantial body of work, his Poet Laureateships of both the state of NH and of the USA, and for his unending support of this state that he loves.

One of the pieces he read last night was about being stopped as he was driving just down the road from our high school one evening and being arrested, essentially, for Driving While Old. Get Unpacking Boxes: it'll be an amusing read.

Puzzlements

Why does the UPS tell me on its tracking page that an item will arrive promptly on a Wednesday and then attempt to deliver it on the Tuesday beforehand?

Why does a teenage girl who's sitting in her desk red faced and crying yell at me when I ask her if she's okay?

Why does an internet site work so flawlessly for others but it works like crap for me?

Why do the powers that be in our school district take in, for free tuition, a student who lives in another school district and who failed to pass 8th grade at another school and place this student in 9th grade in our high school?

Why does this large glass of white zinfandel taste like elixir from the gods?

...followed by the shortest weekend

Yes, it's a regular two-day weekend, this one that falls after the longest week of the year, but it feels like a single day. Most of those things that I'd saved to do "over the weekend" remain yet to be done so it feels as if this weekend has been about 24 hours long.

Friday evening was a lovely (and noisy) dinner at our favorite local Italian place. This has been a NASCAR weekend at a racetrack not too far from here, so the area becomes overrun with fans and participants from far and near. For the first time in more than a year we had to wait for a table, and for the first time ever the wait was more than 15 minutes. Those of you who know that my husband says he married me so he wouldn't have to wait in line for his meals (college meal lines and restaurant lines are two of his least favorite places in the world) understand how good this restaurant's food must be for him to wait willingly and even patiently for a table. He had his typical pasta and meatballs and I had my favorite veal parmigiana with linguini, my treat to thank him for making some dinners during the week when I was so tired. We each have a small carton of leftovers for lunch tomorrow. Mmmm!

On Saturday my friend Mary and I went shopping. Now that bills were paid with the first paycheck of the year, this paycheck gave me a little money to spend on updating my wardrobe, so we headed toward a local department store that was having a sale. (It seems that some chains are constantly having sales this year, probably to lure the public whose buying patterns have changed with the spike in fuel oil and gasoline prices as well as the products with higher prices.) On the way there I pumped gas for $3.39/gallon and was glad for the bargain (the local convenience store is still charging $3.61). We both commented that two years ago calling this price reasonable would have been ridiculous. Times surely do change! I did some damage to my store credit card there, but I did end up with three full bags of clothing that looks pretty darn good on me. As usual, Mary and I found some items for each other, and we each bought a brown skirt that I'm sure we'll both end up wearing on the same day. I doubt that people will notice since we work on different floors and we chose different types of tops to wear with it. We had a tasty lunch at the nearby Chili's which was very rejuvenating. At our next stop I picked up ink for one of my printers and a few other stationery items, and then we went to Wal-Mart. Their products are dependable if not luxurious, and shopping the clearance racks is always fun. Finally we did a little grocery shopping, and headed homeward, but we just had to make a quick stop at Dairy Queen. My root beer float with a shot of vanilla DQ (it's NOT ice cream) brought back memories of high school when my dad's insurance agency office was across the parking lot from a DQ and one of my jobs on hot summer days was to take orders from office staff and go pick up some treats for everyone. It's probably a good thing the nearest DQ is now about 14 miles from home or I'd be in serious trouble. By the time we reached home, neither of us wanted or needed dinner but we were both happy with our day spent together in conversation and doing something different from house work and work work.

Today I slept late. It felt wonderful. Freshly made cinnamon rolls and hot coffee made the rainy morning pleasant. Then came help desk duty, finishing the laundry, and opening my shop. No one but my husband visited so I spent time trying to improve the wireless internet connection from the house to the shop. I had no success so there's more to investigate. I did manage to make a wearable bracelet out of silver wire after several attempts. There's so much more I want to try.

The longest week of the year

In real terms, it's simply a five-day work week, but after almost eight weeks in which I was the boss of my time and when I hung out with the people I chose, this first full week of school feels like a grueling endurance test. Things I've had to get used to: lunch at 10:35 a.m.; moving to a different room for six of the seven daily class periods; spending time when I would be working, planning or correcting in conversation with my student teacher; having to carry and use my personal laptop to try to find locations near my first period class where the wireless network signal works to take attendance each morning; a class in which more than half are repeaters; a student in an honors class so emotionally needy that she makes audible, disparaging comments if the other students don't applaud her work as loudly as (or even louder than) they do other students' work; bringing a cup of yogurt daily for lunch during my prep period (12:30 - 1:10) because that's all my stomach can handle. That last one will change as I adapt to this very different year, especially on days when the cafeteria offers chicken patty sandwiches, spaghetti, french bread pizza, and their turkey dinners.

I mentioned my student teacher, Gina. She's actually very good, much more mature than "Junior" (my previous student teacher a few years ago) was, and quite independent in many ways. Although she was concerned about classroom management, she was running my British Lit class well by Day 3...but I have to admit it's a class of 8 seniors who have almost no behavior issues. However, she is bonding with them and that's an excellent start. She's still learning about pacing during class time and in planning, about the logical order of things, and about different learning styles which is a subject that I assumed was still covered in education classes at the local university, the same one I attended for both of my degrees. It's not. That floored me. I ended up giving Gina a quick mini-lesson on different "modalities" or ways in which people take in and learn information by using myself as an example: visual/spatial memory, auditory intake of information, tactile/kinesthetic task learner, visual curiosity and attention to detail. That should help her to understand why we vary types and styles of assessments (tests, quizzes, homework, projects, etc.) and why we have to present the information - curriculum and assignments - in so many different ways, trying to offer it so that the widest variety of learning styles can grasp it. She's a fast learner so I'm confident she'll pick it up quickly.

Sis3 has had some health issues, so with the help of her kids, she's getting treatment for them. She started this past Monday, and it may take some time, but I know she's being well taken care of, and that's a great relief.

The tendinitis in my arm that's bothered me for a couple of months is starting to respond to ibuprofen to bring down internal swelling. The pain is less and my grip is getting stronger. I thought I was able to stop taking it so I backed off a few days ago, but with the lifting and carrying at school and the work with jewelry making tools, I'm not quite there yet so I'm back to four-times-a-day doses. An unexpected side benefit has been that what seemed like a knot in a muscle under my right shoulder blade seems to have disappeared, and I suspect it was also a tendon that was somehow aggravated. Less pain and discomfort is A Very Good Thing.

September is, I'm happy to say, the month with the fewest craft fairs. It's the time after the summer season to take a breath and begin to make more product for the fall and pre-Christmas times. I need to print more two-sided business cards - one for the jewelry me and one for the shop - to hand out to people. I ran out of both at my reunion, so it's time to get printing again.

Once the dust settles after a significant performance by a friend and his band on September 21, I may be helping this friend write more of a book that was started about a year ago. The collaboration began not long after he had the idea to write it because I know fairly well the original piece of literature from which this story flows. We work well together, ideas flying and flowing, sometimes when we adopt the personas of the main characters, sometimes in almost an interview format, and sometimes in straight discussion. He's the one with the vision, and I'm the one who helps him to flesh it out. I'm very much looking forward to resuming the process.

Today my friend Mary and I will go shopping. Her husband is hunting and my husband is at a cross country meet, so it's just us girls wandering around. I'm not sure where we'll go, I do have a few items I'd like to find but if it doesn't happen...oh well, and it'll be a fine day.We're nearly the same size, and we know each other's taste in clothing, so we're forever finding something and handing it off to the other one to try on. She's such an easy person to spend time with and she seems so capable of handling anything that life throws her, but she too needs time like this to let her hair down and know that our conversations in the car and over lunch go no farther.

Reunion part 1

Saturday night was the reunion of the people with whom I'd graduated from high school in central Massachusetts. After 40 years, some of us look more or less the same and some people...well, they're jaw-droppingly different. I didn't even recognize one of the guys I used to have a wicked crush on because of his thick wavy gray (not red) hair, thick glasses, and paunch. We all have more seasoned skin and most carry a few more pounds. More noticeable than the difference in appearance, though, was the absence of the social barriers that used to exist. People who hardly gave me the time of day back in high school were calling me by name and engaging me in conversation, genuinely glad to see me. We spent a few hours enjoying delicious barbecued skewers of chicken and marinated beef, salads and rolls, and friendly talk. Almost half of us in attendance are somehow involved in education, and several of us exchanged business cards related to our second creative careers. Even my spouse enjoyed himself, being recognized by a few of the men who have attended these gatherings each time and getting to know some of the others as they stood on the sun porch "guarding" the beverage coolers.

Our hosts were a classmate of mine and one of Sis2's who had married not long after my husband and I did. After living out of town for quite a few years, they were able to purchase a big square old farm house a couple of miles from the town center and renovate its interior extensively, making it into a lovely home. The original plan was to have the event catered and for us to use their porch, deck and back yard, but since Hurricane Hanna was determined to join us, we used their tv room, dining room, kitchen and sun room, and a few wandered out onto the deck in the drizzle (at that point) to cool off as the rooms indoors became warm despite air conditioning. The caterer set up the barbecue grills under shelter outdoors so the whole neighborhood could enjoy the aromas and our hosts didn't have to scramble to find cooking space indoors. The couple kept as much of the old original house as they could, jacking up floors and squaring walls and doorways, using replica wallpaper close to the original, and decorating walls with original antique maps and signs found in this and their previous home. Heather had found a box of pieces of stained glass collected by Mark's mother who used to make lamps and suncatchers, and she commissioned a local woman to use some of the rescued glass in some new lampshades with local flowers and pine cones in the patterns. We thanked them several times for opening up their home to us until finally Mark admitted that he had one huge advantage over the rest of us: when the party was over, he didn't have to drive anywhere to find his bed! I figure that's why he concocted a bowl full of evilly pink Hurricane Hanna Punch for us which I sampled, but it tasted like it might do my liver more damage than the actual storm would so I left it alone after a couple of sips and stuck to wine.

Two of the people present were from my old neighborhood off East Main Street, and I hadn't seen either of them in many years. Nancy has five children and is fairly recently divorced, and Larry oversees housing at Harvard and shares his off duty time with his significant other. Both of them are still very much the same friendly people but comfortable in their lives now, and I hope we can stay in touch. Really. Mark had provided a spreadsheet where we filled in our contact information, and the hope is that he'll share that with all of us soon. Speaking of sharing, after I download the photos that my spouse graciously took of the group, I'll post one here. It'll be amusing, I promise.

Not amusing at all was the drive home. Rain that had been light but constant had become much heavier, and the wind had picked up some by the time we decided to head north. Several people had difficulty trying to drive up the slick wet incline of the back part of the yard, so they'd be waiting a while. We had parked in the front row, and driving carefully we'd been able to drive out smoothly. (I cringe to think how ugly their back lawn was today.) Between the wind, the dark, the changed highway exit numbers, the added stoplights, and the driving rain, my husband had a difficult task in getting us home safely, and it did take an extra half hour, but we made it in one piece. I think I was asleep about 2 minutes after my head hit the pillow: it takes a lot of energy to grip an arm rest with each hand and to simulate pressing gas pedal and brake with both feet for a 2.5 hour drive! The dry, sunny weather today was most welcome.

Happy Hot Friday

90º is what the temperature gauge on my car dashboard glowed at me when I started the trek homeward this afternoon. Even opening windows as soon as I arrived and turning on fans in the classrooms didn't help much today. The humidity made the sunny day even more oppressive, both in and out of the school building. As one student put it, why couldn't we have had this weather back in July when we could have enjoyed it?

On the other hand I suspect we'll be wishing for some of this heat during the cold months ahead. We nearly filled our oil tank and will have it topped off when our next paycheck arrives. Because we do have a wood stove and a good supply of wood, and we've learned to wear layers when we're at home, and our house faces south with some large windows and skylights, we'll be better off than many who aren't as fortunate in their ability to heat their houses or keep themselves warm.

As this second week of school ends, I'm making some discoveries about some of my students: one of the goofiest sophomores is also the most thoughtful and articulate; another of my sophomores misspelled her name on her vocabulary quiz; yet another sophomore who began the year with me and was withdrawn from school two days ago will be rejoining us...something about her father getting out of jail; one of my senior creative writing students is poised to "come out" to the class about her sexual orientation; two boys in my low level sophomore class come from home lives where it's fine to call people names or harass them if they follow a different religion or dress differently than they do; the girl with the blue hair provides kind and wonderfully constructive feedback to her peers when they read their writing; one senior boy aspires to be a writer of poems that he'll be proud to show his grandfather who is a poet; one of the best, most observant students in my British Lit class is the daughter of a former student who was so lazy he wouldn't move to get out of his own way; three of my sophomores share the same probation officer; and a senior girl is on the brink of an acting/modeling career as soon as she has her diploma in hand. Diverse and interesting bunch, eh?

Tomorrow night I'll be attending my 40th high school graduation reunion down in Massachusetts. I felt foolish asking for directions to a house where I spent hours making prom decorations, but after all it HAS been 41 years since those gatherings. These folks are the ones I've seen every ten years, intended to keep in touch with, and then ... life gets busy. I'll bring my husband because he's accompanied me to most of the previous ones, and he knows a few people. It's likely that the ones who, in high school, hung out together in their little cliques will still sit in corners and talk among themselves, and the rest of us relative nobodies will enjoy the evening. I opted not to stay overnight at a hotel or go to the brunch the next morning: short and sweet is best, I think. Besides, I have another reunion to attend in about a month, and that one should be much more emotional for me. I haven't seen those classmates since 1966 when my family moved 35 miles away, so I wonder how many I'll recognize. Seeing some of their faces (of the ones who dare to post current photos there) on Classmates.com has been reassuring and amusing. A few of the boys I had wicked crushes on ... well, I'm not sure I'd have recognized them today if I met them on the street. I suspect that the women will be easier to identify, but I'd better be bringing my yearbook with me just in case!

This was a true four-day school week, not 3.5 as last week was. I felt lighter at two separate times today: once when that challenging 4th period class was over, and once when the last students left my classroom at the end of the day. Liberation! This glass of wine tastes extra good this afternoon. Cheers!

Back in the saddle

In some ways it's like I've hardly been away from this place I lovingly call the Brain Factory. Many student faces are different, the order of events has changed and a new one was added, and I've gained a temporary but long-term appendage (my student teacher), but otherwise it's all the same. Pizza on the first day of the week, snafus with class lists, senior passes and attendance, kids being sent to the office, lines of impatient teachers at the photocopiers, yoga classes on Wednesday afternoons, and two window fans in each classroom making the interior temperature just bearable are the normal fabric of the days. The new librarian has a lot of learning ahead of her but she's trying to catch up. The same goes for the elementary art teacher who took over the Intro to Art classes when his position was eliminated: the learning curve will be steep. Neither one of them has a lot of experience among that high school crowd. With luck they won't be eaten alive.

The weather is turning fallish with chilly nights and beautiful sunny days. It's a challenge to ignore the lovely weather when I need to be indoors teaching mindfully. However, I figure it's our reward for the nasty rainy summer we had. The timing could've been better, though. Why not give it to us during the month of July?

My youngest sister is having some medical difficulties, but I'm pleased to find that her kids are becoming involved and helping her find her way through. Even a couple of years ago I wouldn't have thought it possible. My niece and nephew are good people but they didn't seem capable of taking care of someone else, including their mother. It's so nice to discover that they've grown up and are taking charge. Her treatments will take some time, but I'm reassured that things are all falling into place for her, thanks in large part to her kids who are doing the research and stepping up to care for her.

My jewelry making has brought me a small but constant stream of income, something that allows me not to have to find other work during the summer to make ends meet. It also brings me people who drive up the driveway before dinnertime to ask if I can shorten a chain on a special necklace for the wife or sell them eyeglasses holders or make a bracelet for their niece's birthday. That's okay: happy customers come back and they spread the good word about me. The reputation I've established motivates people to look for me at craft fairs and to ask me to sign the back of the little card that accompanies their Lake bracelet. I'm happy that this hobby of mine has grown into something quite fulfilling for me. Besides, it keeps me out of trouble...mostly.

Speaking of trouble, I can't figure out why my husband has trouble putting ALL the food away after dinner. How hard can it be to refrigerate the left-overs AND the tub of margarine? Is it really a challenge to put the blueberry bread made by his sister in law into a plastic container instead of letting it sit in crumpled pieces of aluminum foil on the shelf, gathering big black ants? Who knows, maybe I'm the foolish one!