Snow at last

Here it is, March 1, and our first real winter snow finally arrived. It's hard to tell how much fell here, but at least 8" sits on our picnic table, a depth typical of a January snowstorm. This white stuff would have been welcome six weeks ago for the snowmobilers or even two weeks ago for Winter Carnival events. As it is, the snow is unlikely to stick around when temps of 40+ degrees arrive over the weekend, and all the silly hubbub will seem pointless. The good thing is that there must not be bigger, badder regional events so that almost all of the news coverage today has focused on an event usually much more common than it's been this year.

Unfortunately the midwest truly is suffering from highly unusual winter tornadoes that brought terrible destruction of property and the loss of six lives, and forecasts indicate that more unsettled weather is on its way. I'm not thinking "global warming" at all, but I will be glad when such violent weather events can be manipulated and minimalized to save lives. On the other hand, I don't like the idea of snowfall being artificially manipulated simply for the benefit of winter sports enthusiasts, even though I live in a state where the majority of income is the result of tourism and outdoor sports.

At least the snow sports folks and the plow guys will be happy for a few days before all of this turns to mush!

No applause from me

I just viewed a video of a young man skateboarding in a variety of places, at least one of which he was asked to leave because skateboarding was banned there. He didn't leave at that point, choosing to continue his antics while making a vocal response equivalent to flipping off the woman who'd told him he shouldn't be skating there and that she was going to call the police if he didn't stop. After a little while the view switched to him skateboarding in locations in a city that included staircases, and at least one other illegal location back in the same town as the first incident.

I'm not clear which aspect of this video I'm supposed to be applauding.

If I'm supposed to praise highly the skateboarding expertise of this person, I have to admit that I've seen much better even among young locals. They make their boards spiral with them as they sail through the air, they sail over areas filled with earth and various plantings, they soar from top step over a short flight to solid landing, too, and they do other gravity-defying tricks on curved and flat structures designed for them to show off their mad skills. Sometimes it makes my stomach knot to see how fearlessly they attack the challenging surfaces in front of them as I imagine them landing and skidding in a bloody, broken-boned heap, but I have to admit that I admire their physical daring. That kind of skill deserves acknowledgement. Yet that's not, I think, the point of the video I viewed.

Instead, I think the point of the video, what the performer was seeking, was to demonstrate his defiance and lack of respect for the places he chose as his stage. One is a business with sidewalks for the safety of its customers and plantings to make the parking lot attractive. One is a public school building. In each case a clearly posted sign indicates that skateboarding is banned, and in one case, a legally designated area sits on the opposite side of the driveway.

The video began with the young man skating down the lengthy sidewalk of the open business and a pony-tailed woman scolding the skater for doing so. His vocal response was also audible as he continued to skate on the business's property. This set the tone for the film, and it was difficult for me to set that aside as I watched the rest, trying to identify the different locations and looking for postings prohibiting skating. In the city scenes, they weren't visible, but the antics took place on staircases of buildings which typically are off limits to skaters. (Whose insurance covers people injured on that property? Who is responsible when damage to property occurs?) Defense attorneys may call them "attractive nuisances," but that's hogwash. How else are walking people supposed to enter buildings? At least the skater in this video has the decency to wait until evening when the stairs aren't actively in use. The video ends with the scenes at the public school, one that he and his family members attended years ago, his antics taking place just below the posted sign banning skateboarding, so this piece begins and ends with the same message: it's not the skills that are noteworthy but the rebellion and defiance of displaying them where they're illegal.

That's what I cannot applaud.

Something is missing but until I know what it is, I can't search for it.

Waiting for inspiration...

...and the word of the day is "hypocrite."

I chuckle and shake my head each time someone posts some philosophy of life which clearly does not match the actual lifestyle of that person. I suspect that I'm guilty of hypocrisy now and then, as most of us are, but I must say that I try to avoid publishing quite publicly the positions to which I myself clearly do not adhere.

Ah well, amusing stuff.

Didn't Robbie Burns, in his poem "To a Louse," say, "O would some Power the giftie give us / To see ourselves as others see us!" Smart man. ;-)

The beginning of the end

Tomorrow begins my last year as a full-time classroom teacher of high school English. Yes, we met our classes last week for two days, but those don't really count. One day was spent moving from place to place, shuffling new schedules, new handbooks, new rules, new students and personnel and then dashing through shortened classes to meet and greet. The other entailed setting the tone for the year, distributing books, handing out course competencies, and other mundane activities, except for Creative Writing. I took them to several places inside the building to just listen and then record what they heard; I might as well get them accustomed to using their senses early and to knowing that this class isn't like English classes they've taken before. After this Labor Day, the real work commences, the end begins.

I've wondered if this final year will look and feel different than the previous 39. With more than 100 sick/professional/personal days accumulated comes the temptation to use as many as I can since they are a "benefit" and there's no compensation for not using them. Since this is the final time that I'll be teaching these classes, simply repeating lessons and projects assigned last year, only using Wite-Out to change the due dates, seems to be the best way to save time and energy. Because I won't be using them in the future, there's the temptation to leave the pages of my new planner blank. But I don't think I can fully indulge in these alluring behaviors. I'm not wired that way. I'm not saying that I'll refuse to take an extra day if there's some strong motivation, that every task and assessment will be brand new, or that every square in every lesson plan for every day will be crammed with information, but my intention is to live this year as I've lived the rest of my teaching career: aimed at helping kids understand their connection to others in the world and their ability to express themselves through a sound understanding of literature and good writing skills.

A year from now I'll be doing something different, not planning these next four days of classes to be taught by me. What I will be doing remains undecided but not really a mystery. I'll still be reading (mostly novels), still trying out interesting looking recipes, still watching Days of Our Lives and wondering if Sami's life will ever be smooth sailing, still blogging occasionally, emailing, Facebooking and chatting often, still making jewelry, feeding my dog tiny MilkBones, yelling at the Red Sox, doing the laundry, staying in touch with family, shooting photos, and the hundreds of other things that I typically do now. Between now and then I'll remain open to opportunity and decide what may expand, increase, or be added to my life. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the ride.

Renewal

I can come up with all kinds of justification for my lack of blogging, some suspiciously similar to the ones used by my own students, so I won't bother. I'll just renew my efforts to write more regularly and hope that I can sustain them longer than I've been doing lately.

Rain, cool and damp, has fallen at least five days out of every seven for a month or more, not an entirely unheard of occurrence, but certainly the reverse of what I think of for the end of spring and the start of summer. Advantages include cleansing the air of pollen that affects so many of us, low danger of fires starting or spreading rapidly, raising the water table to ensure that wells shouldn't dry up in the dead heat of summer, keeping air temperature cooler and delaying the need for the power sucking air conditioner, less desire to loll around outdoors on a lawn chair with a book instead of doing indoor chores or school work, and a lovely lushly green environment. All are very worthy reasons to welcome the rain if not with open arms at least with approval. However, rain makes me restless.

I'm not talking just about showers or storms with lightning and thunder, occurrences that naturally cause agitation with the visual and auditory stimulation and energizing ozone in the air. What I have in mind are the long slow days of drizzle to downpours when mental lethargy sets in, and the cold precipitation seems to limit my options. I'm not a fan of feeling chilly drops trickling down my neck or gathering on appendages to drip off or uncomfortably soaking my socks. I don't like sitting on dampness and then carrying the sogginess with me. Yep, I'll say it: I'm a wimp. That means I'm limited to indoor activities if I want to stay warm and dry. Limits make me restless, and this one is no exception.

It's not that I can't sit and read one of the several books I have going, or add to my jewelry inventory when I'm indoors. Winter time proves the fallacy of that idea. Perhaps the problem lies partly in the fact that, indoors, on vacation, I'm faced with the other stuff that I should be doing. That cluttered table, that stack of magazines to be clipped, the pile of clothing that needs to be mended or the others to be sorted and donated quietly but persistently call to me. The bench covered with odd items that need to find homes preys on my conscience and makes me feel guilty for not taking care of them before I indulge in more pleasurable activities. Of course the adult thing to do would be to dig in to one or more of the tasks needing to be done and then reward myself with an equal dose of tasks that I want to do. The key word there is "adult," and those who know me smile rather than attribute that quality to me. I'm still a kid at heart, and kids balk at limits. There's the rub.

I have to admit, though, that rain makes me restless in general, too, so my immaturity isn't the sole cause. The other sources include conditioning to expect that summer equals sunshine, the desire for deep warmth after a long winter, and the need for some vitamin D delivered by the sun. I've waited through 9 seemingly endless months of short days and bone chilling temperatures to enjoy long sunny days wandering in and out of the house, doing what I please, when I please. I deserve it! That delayed gratification stuff is for the birds! This gloomy rain had better back off soon before I become even more of a grouch. June, it's time for a string of nice warm, dry, sunny days to ease this restless soul.

The more things change...

...the more they stay the same.

Yep.

Really. The same.

It's like springsummerfallwinterspringsummerfallwinterspring.....

Etched in.

Superglued.

Eternal.

Once again I feel the need for a primal scream.

I'll be back when I catch my breath.