Day 29

I ran today for the first time in a long time.  When I run, I notice my surroundings but also pay heed to my inner voices.  It’s a time for mental house cleaning.  Often I consider what I might write about—the thoughts that have been lingering, churning and inviting or demanding a deeper examination.  Other times I merely focus on the sensory feast—the cold air burning my lungs and whipping color into my cheeks, the stretch of my muscles, the thud thud thud of my feet hitting the pavement accompanied by the whooshing sound of my working breath.

Today I was optimistically looking for signs of spring as I ran.  Instead, along the edge of the road I saw shards of red and amber glass, a wrinkled package of cigarettes, a broken branch stabbed into the earth, paw prints, a discarded beer bottle.  At first I was discouraged by the trash, carelessly strewn along the dirty snowy berm and by the lack of any hint of impending spring.  But then it struck me that within each piece of trash or debris resides a kernel of a story.

The branch.  Perhaps it was javelined into the earth during the heart of a winter storm.  Did someone lying awake one night hear its mighty crack and fall or did it jolt someone awake with a shot of adrenaline?  Or was it unacknowledged, muffled by the falling snow and howl of the wind?   The empty cigarette pack.  Was it thoughtlessly discarded or perhaps flung out a car window with another desperate vow to stop smoking?   The broken bits of automotive glass hint at yet another tale—someone driving in a hurry after an argument, or racing against curfew, on the brink of violation.  Or maybe it was simply icy, bad luck or a visitor unfamiliar with winter driving.  There are stories here, potential treasures to be found among the trash. 

I continued running, putting one foot in front of the other, wind-whipped and weary, watching and thinking, finding stories along the side of the road.

Day 28

It’s Saturday morning and my kitchen is a mess.  You know those people who usher you into their homes (or their classrooms for that matter), saying, “Oh, sorry, it’s such a mess”?  And you look around and wonder what they are talking about.  Like maybe there’s a cup on the counter or one stray paper on their desk.  Maybe. Sometimes I don’t really like those people, because now when I say my house is a mess, people think I exaggerate.  I don’t.  I won’t show pictures or give elaborate descriptions because I’m concerned some well-intentioned citizen might call Health and Human Services.  Just take my word for it.

At any rate, I woke this morning, picturing my kitchen as it was last night before I went to sleep.   I was pretty sure that the Dish Fairy hadn’t made an unexpected overnight appearance.  (Around here that Dish Fairy is as rare as the Laundry Fairy!)  You might think I’m about to complain (and you have reason, based on a few whiny slices), but I promise, I’m not. 

I lay in my bed for a few minutes, enjoying the leisurely start to the day, idly petting my cat, thinking about my kitchen and planning my attack. I  briefly thought about googling what product I could buy to remove the baked-on crud from the top of my stove.  (The fact that I don’t know should lend credence to the honesty of my initial statement.)  I imagined myself stacking dishes, shifting mail, wiping down (scraping, chiseling?) surfaces, plunging my hands into Dawn-scented soapy water. Somewhat to my surprise, I realized that I was beginning to look forward to it.  

There’s something concrete and therapeutic about cleaning the kitchen, creating clean shiny surfaces from disorder and debris. (And, yes, use of that word debris, with its overtones of rubble and dirt,  is both deliberate and accurate.  Now do you believe me?) After a week of mounting work and stress at school, I was anticipating digging into a task I could actually complete and seeing visible results. I couldn’t wait to get started!

So, have a great morning.  I know I will.  I’m breaking out the Dawn and I’m off to the dishes!

Day 27

Springtime in Maine always makes a leisurely arrival and this year it’s been especially slow.  A-g-o-n-i-z-i-n-g-l-y slow.  However, while driving to work this morning, I realized that I’d overlooked some recent signs of spring.  In the last few weeks, seemingly overnight sometimes, bright splotches of orange have appeared in the landscape.  Not flora nor fauna, but bold orange signs stating “Frost Heave” or the more succinct, often understated,     “Bump”.  Yes, it’s spring, New England Style. 

These signs and the uneven pavement are an indication that something is happening. Perhaps it’s the earth trying to shrug off this last layer of snow, heaving it up along with the asphalt.  At any rate, it’s a yearly precursor to spring and a sign that winter is releasing its icy grip on the land, so I’ll take it!

Driving at night, when the orange signs are less visible, the bumps and heaves cast deep shadows, giving wary drivers a bit of forewarning.  Savvy local drivers will suddenly, proactively, swerve into the opposite lane to avoid known trouble spots.  Those who are unaware or unobservant, are doomed—or at least the undercarriage of their car is.  Scratches along the top of especially vicious frost heaves bear mute testimony to previous victims. 

With my awareness and my new perspective, I drove home today, erratically changing lanes, my car rising and falling on these erratic washboard hills, smiled and thought, “Ah, spring is coming!”

Day 26–only 5 more to go!

Last night’s pity party is over!  Boot straps are firmly in place and reinforced.  Today is a day to actively seek the positive.  With that in mind I decided to keep a list of all the positives in my day (and to periodically sing or hum “Accentuate the Positive” as necessary.)  I am happy to say that I accomplished both and whilst I didn’t record myself singing, my list of positives follows:

1. It was 37 degrees this morning!  That sure beats the 9 and 7 degrees that were recorded earlier this week. Perhaps we will have spring after all!
2. I had time to read a few slices before leaving for work this morning—interesting and inspiring, as always, and a wonderful way to start the day. 
3. I remembered to remove the trash bags from my car.  This may sound trivial but it is a major accomplishment.  Each Thursday morning I put the trash in the back of the car to drive it to the end of the driveway and leave it there for pick up.  My driveway is not that long, but clearly it’s longer than my short term memory.  Approximately 40% of the time I remember to stop and deposit the bags by the side of the road and then I award myself my mental gold star. The other 60% of the time the trash accompanies me to work and sits in my car… all… day… long.  Ew. 
4. Gael Lynch gave me some great feedback when I expressed some regret and embarrassment about my on line pity party post.  Thanks again, Gael!
5. I have a wonderful colleague who decided to turn Thursday into Thankful Thursday.  Every Thursday.  For The Entire Year!  She writes individual comments to everyone in our wing and leaves them at their desks with a small chocolate token.  Today’s comment was such an upper!  Thanks, Erin!
6. My reading lesson was engaging and successful, too!
7. A student from another first grade class was coming out of Library today and called over to me.  Beaming ear to ear and clutching a Magic Treehouse book, he exclaimed, “I’m checking out my first chapter book and I already read the whole first page…WITHOUT STOPPING…and I can’t wait I’m going to read it on the bus and then I’m going to read it at home in the peace and quiet!”
8. I confiscated a note as my class went into specials.  It read, “I cant toke be coes my tooth hrts it’s not wegle can I have the papr aftr you red it.”  Translation:  I can’t talk because my tooth hurts.  It’s not wiggly.  Can I have the paper after you read it?”  Why is this a positive?  Because this is one of my most challenged spellers and he spelled tooth correctly, finally put the e on have and used a contraction with an apostrophe!  Woohoo!
9. Read aloud!  I love, love, love read aloud and I especially love reading Lulu and the Brontosaurus.  Such fun!  Lots of laughs and great book talk!
10. Being a bit overdramatic at some point today, I said, “Phew!” several times in a row, with accompanying gestures.  A student called out, “Hey, that reminds me of Kevin Henkes.”  “Why?” I asked, a bit puzzled.  The student responded, “You know… How he repeats things.”  Mentor authors in action!
11. On the way home the fog was hovering low over the ground and as I rounded a corner, there was a solitary deer, delicately picking her way through the snow.
12. I’ve just written my 26th blog post in a row!  What a wonderful experience this has been.
13. Oh, and one more.  Did you notice?  I used the word “whilst” in my writing.  Having a British principal who is inclined to do so with great regularity inspired me!  I feel so cosmopolitan! 

Above is my optimistic attempt to embed a video of Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters singing “Accentuate the Positive”.  If it works, consider it officially added as number 14 on my list!

From where I sit I see my glass of Malbec…half empty.  It’s my second glass.  I usually have only one, if that, but tonight feels like it warrants two.  It’s been one of those weeks.  I’m tired and grumpy and I’ve run out of steam.  It’s a half-empty moment.

Today my brain feels saturated with to-do lists that won’t quit, schedules that won’t stretch, and way too many demands.  At school it’s write this, plan this, schedule this, organize this, and don’t forget to assess both this and that followed by scoring, entering, and more planning.  My desk, which has been pretty tidy for about 2 months, is in crisis mode.  Sad to say, my house is not much better.  So at home, the demands continue.   Don’t forget to call her back, pay that, schedule this, empty that, clean that, unload, fold and organize it all.  Oh, and don’t forget the FAFSA update!  There’s no respite.  My profile picture should be Edvard Munch’s Scream.  Ahhhh!

From where I sit, I see way too many rebukes.  Piles of unopened mail, mounds of unmatched socks, debris, and clutter. Bags of schoolwork filled with papers, dutifully toted home, but untouched.  Even my unpetted cat who lies, curled and resigned, next to me.   I can’t keep up and I just want to run away and grab a book and sink into my amazing, wonderful bed, burrow under my mound of feathered blankets and wave the white flag of surrender.  I give up!  I can’t do it all.  But for right now, I take another sip of Malbec, sigh, and open my up my e-mail account.  What do you do when you keep pulling yourself up by the bootstraps and your bootstraps are threatening to break?

http://www.mouthmag.com/issues/58/number58.htm

I love words
Love playing with them
twisting them
this way and that
Love the way
certain words
sound when they
pop with p’s
or crackle with k’s
Preposterous, pumpkin,
cantankerous,  cranky
I pucker up with the p’s
and spit the c’s,
peppering my conversations
with friendly shrapnel
z’s invigorate
zipping and zinging
adding pizzazz
And the b’s of bellicose
bawdy
byzantine
blast through my lips
and burst in the air
Words, Words, Words
I could play all day

Day 23 of the Slicing Challenge

Several months ago I was in a writing class and a woman wrote a beautiful, moving piece about her granddaughter.  Within this piece she wrote an off-the-cuff disparaging allusion to “those pastel people,” comparing them to others more bold and vivid.  Clearly this was not a reference to their clothing color preference, but more an indictment of their personalities.  I admired her craft, and this clever line, the concept and the casually contemptuous tone lingered with me.

I turned this idea over frequently, and initially, I bought into her view.  I mean, who doesn’t admire someone who is bold, vibrant and eye-catching?  Someone who makes an impact. Pastel colors are b-o-r-i-n-g.  But then, it hit me… right between my pale blue eyes.  I am, for the most part, a pastel.  Part of this might be my temperament and certainly part was my upbringing. 

In my family there were many spoken and unspoken rules about how to behave, but there were always rules.  I was raised to be helpful and never to make waves.  Not to make a bold statement.  Never to clash or draw attention to myself.  As a result, my siblings and I had lovely manners but didn’t necessarily know how to speak up for what we wanted or needed.  Good lord, we might inconvenience someone if we expressed a simple preference, so too often we didn’t. Stay in the background.  Smooth things over.  Don’t rock the boat.  Follow the rules.  In essence, be pastel.

The more I thought about this color-based personality analysis and my pastel category, the more I found myself demurring*—not with the overall concept, but with the dismissive tone.  Pastels aren’t merely “washed out” or “nearly neutral”  or just plain boring.  While they don’t have that “zing” factor, they have hidden depths.  Pastels provide balance, promote relaxation, and can be more subtle and nuanced than bold colors.   They soften the edges, soothe and calm.  These are pretty important functions.

 So,while part of me will always long to be bright, vibrant and bold, and to take the world by storm, it’s really not my nature.  And that’s ok.  I’ve come to terms with being pastel.  

* Merriam-Webster defines demur as “to disagree politely with another person’s statement or suggestion” —definitely a pastel way to dissent!

Still participating in the Slice of Life March Challenge–Day 22

I’m not a huge Facebook user, but I do enjoy glancing through every day or so and taking a look at what friends and family are up to.  I even post a picture once in a while.  Sometimes I click on other people’s links and get sucked into a time warp, emerging shaking my head.  A little dazed and confused.  And, yes, often concerned–I mean, why is there a site about what people wear to Walmart?  Who cares?

Anyway, yesterday a childhood friend had posted a link titled “This mashup of famous dance scenes is your new favorite video.”  Beneath it said, “Where else can you see Beauty and the Beast, Magic Mike, and Cameron Diaz all in one place?”  In a moment of weakness, perhaps induced by a desire to avoid all things report-card related, I clicked.  After an odd advertisement, which seemed to have a target audience of cats, the words Shut up and Dance with me filled the screen.  The music kicked in.  The video started.  I was hooked.  Transported.

While Walk the Moon sang “Shut up and dance with me”, clips of dancing scenes from movies filled my laptop screen. What is there about dancing that just screams JOY?  I couldn’t stop smiling, a full stretch-your-face smile, trying to identify the movies–Risky Business, Grease, Billy Elliott, Happy Feet, Dirty Dancing, Beetlejuice, and so many more.

And then, over half-way through, for a brief moment, Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer filled the screen.  In the patio scene from The Sound of Music.  Their eyes locked.  Their arms linked, lifting and forming graceful arches. Slowly, turning, they danced the Laendler and tears filled my eyes.

Tears don’t come easily to me, but something about that moment in the midst of such powerful joy moved me.  Perhaps it’s my life-long love of all things Sound of Music.  Perhaps it’s the youth of these two aging acting legends.  Perhaps it’s knowing that in the background the Baroness watched, hurting, and the Nazis gathered.  Perhaps it’s simply the longing and love captured in this moment.

I have now watched this video mishmash multiple times and each time I smile and feel my mood lift.  Then that moment happens.  Julie Andrews.  Christopher Plummer.  And each time my eyes tear up.  And as I watch again and again, I’ve been considering music and dance and how they encompass so many emotions.  These video scenes capture not just joy, but the emotional crux of each movie–as if the feeling has intensified to such a degree that mere dialogue can’t hold it any longer, it just spills over into song and dance. These moments are imbued with raw, powerful emotion, often joy and celebration, but more subtly, grit, defiance, longing, love, and determination. Transcendent.

So, I shared the link on my Facebook page, hoping to entice others into watching this mishmash of videos–One that moved me to joy and yet brought tears from one achingly poignant moment.  And this morning, I opened my laptop and clicked on the link again.  “Shut up and Dance with Me” filled the air, I sat back to watch, smiled and then, once again, was moved to tears.

http://theberry.com/2015/03/17/this-mashup-of-famous-dance-scenes-is-your-new-favorite-video-video/

It’s another cold Saturday
after a long, trying Friday
but I rise from the nest of my bed
cheerfully
braving chilled wooden floors
anticipating warmth, laughter,
book talk, pastries,
candor and acceptance
We gather around Sue’s kitchen table

It’s book club today

Cutting for Stone
Mao’s Last Dancer
Bury Your Dead
To Kill a Mockingbird
When We Were The Kennedys

I am filled with gratitude for
this diverse group of
seriously fabulous women
who laugh with gusto
speak their truths and
value words and books
No game playing here
Vibrant women with grit
each with her own compelling story

The Paris Wife
The Art Forger
Orphan Train
Reconstructing Amelia
The Invention of Wings

Infused with a love of reading
our conversations meander
We share our ups and downs
commiserate, celebrate
share recent reads and vignettes from our lives
and sometimes we even have time for
insightful conversations about
the designated book.

Same Kind of Different As Me
All the Light We Cannot See
Everything I Never Told You

Mining the pages
of these many books
we’ve discovered
characters, history, culture,
images both haunting and profound
but richest of all
the glowing gem of connection
friendship
multifaceted
priceless.

It’s book club today.

I liked the suggested format for this morning…Before that… So I’m going to try it out!

Just sat down with a nice glass of Malbec

Before that, picked my daughter up from work

Before that, working on report cards–late night at school
Before that, ate half a large cheese pizza to fuel myself for a long night’s work and compensate for a long, long day.  Loved every delicious, guilty bite!
Before that, got my loaner computer from our tech guy
Before that, K-2 assembly
Before that, math fact family butterflies
Before that, chased down the tech guy for a loaner computer
Before that, worked through lunch–gulped down carrot ginger soup at my desk
Before that, math assessment
Before that, poetry into notebooks and reading
Before that, productive discourse conversation
Before that, word work assessment
Before that, early morning classroom routine–kids arrive, smiling and full of energy–I’m not.
Before that, almost dropped the f-bomb–changed it mid-stream to a loud Fudge!
Right Before that, spilled coffee all over my open laptop
Before that, finally arrived at school, relieved, thankful, and a bit stressed
Before that, learned where coolant goes in my car (Note to self:  If in the future heat is not working properly in car, check coolant levels!)
Before that, my knight in shining armor arrived in his Toyota steed
Before that, pulled over when the car overheated
Before that, non-fat half-caff. 2 pump peppermint latte-Friday indulgence!
Before that, read some slices, vowed to accentuate the positive today!
Before that, showered and coffee-ed
Before that, noticed that the thermometer read 7 degrees. Looked again. Growled at the thermometer.
Before that, pet my three legged cat after she stuck her wet nose in my face.  Fed her as well.
Before that, the alarm woke me from a sound sleep.  Morning already?

Yes, it was quite a day!