Back to School

It's  my first day back in school. 

 It is always exciting.   

There's always a little bit of a honeymoon period, 

then the children figure out I'm pretty much a push over.

I'm working on a routine of writing and scheduling, rather than writing and posting.  Stay with me, it may take me a few weeks to build my stamina.  I'm fully expecting to need a nap when I get home this afternoon.

Okay,

I'm going in....

It is going to be a great year!

Why I Can't Finish "The Polar Express"

I love reading.  

I love reading to children.

Each year before we leave for Christmas vacation I read Chris Van Allsburg's  The Polar Express  to our oldest pre-schoolers.  This year I ask, "Am I reading this year?"  This is probably where I should tell you, The Polar Express is not an easy read for me.   I am an avid reader, and  a make-believe writer...  words are not my problem.  It is this a magical book.

If you are not familiar with this amazing story, here is an abbreviated version.   The narrator, an older man,  who as a child is transported by train,"The Polar Express" to the North Pole to meet Santa, on Christmas Eve.  Each year, after everyone has arrived and gathered in the center of town, Santa appears and selects one child to give the first gift of Christmas.  It is our storyteller who is chosen.  When given the chance to ask for anything, his simple request is one of the reindeer's bells.  Santa delighted by the humble request instructs a bell be cut from a harness and declares it to be the first gift of Christmas.  Upon reboarding the train the child discovers he has lost the precious bell through a hole in the pocket of his robe.  Heartbroken he returns home and bed in time for Christmas morning.  After opening all the presents his sister finds one small box hidden behind the Christmas tree with his name on it.  Inside he finds the lost bell with a note from Santa Claus.  He tells us when he rings the bell, only he and his sister hear it's ringing.  

"At one time most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed, it fell silent for all of them.  Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound.  Though I've grown old, the bell still rings for me as it does for all who truly believe".

You may think this is just a simple story about a boy, Santa and a lost gift.  Oh, my friends,  it is so much more; and I promised an explanation of why I cannot finish without becoming overcome with emotion.  You see, I still hear that bell.  

I always have. 

 I heard it at four when a neighbor told me there was no Santa, and my mother told me Santa was found in my heart.  I heard it at eight when we were told my mother was very sick.  I heard it 29 years later when my mother passed away just before Christmas.  

Yes, just like everyone else, I get stressed out.  I get caught up in the memories, comparisons, and hype of trying to make sure "this Christmas" is the best ever.  Then...  I open The Polar Express, and like our narrator...

I find what is lost, I remember Christmas is not a celebration of what is seen, and 
I hear that tinkling of the bell.

So, amid the stress, sadness, anger and transitions we all face at Christmas and throughout the year, there is no better way to end than with believing in the magic of Christmas, 
and the miracle birth of the Christ child.

May you find time to breathe, to listen and to celebrate.
Merry Christmas!

Teaching Moments

“I guess you could call it a "failure", but I prefer the term "learning experience".” 

― Andy Weir, The Martian

Are we truly nearing the middle of March?

I get a little fickled this time of year.  I'm not quite ready for winter to end, but at the same time I love seeing all the spring blossoms.

No matter the season, I've been buried under my "weekend project" which has become a two week marathon.   I underestimated the time, and possibly my ability.  I think most guessed my mystery project as curtains.  Yes, I am making the curtains for my grand-daughter's nursery.   We couldn't find ready-made curtains exactly as desired, so of course, I quickly said I can easily 

make something.   

I spent most of the first days of this project measuring, measuring and measuring again.  Once I have a vision I am not one to spend a lot of time planning; however,  I believe in measuring.   So yes, I measured not twice, but three times.   When I was satisfied everything was the length needed, I pulled the welt thread to make sure my cut would be straight and on grain.  Well, it didn't end up how I expected.

I moved from table to floor, back to the table and back to the floor.  (This was much easier the last time I made curtains....possibly 20 years ago.)  No matter where I laid the fabric the lines were not straight.  Finally with the help of my husband I squared everything and one 60" x 102" panel was constructed.

I spent last weekend with my daughter, and had hoped to take two sets of  finished curtains with me.  I had planned to hang, photograph and post my fabulous success.  It didn't happen.

I'll have another chance to deliver the finished curtains in a couple weeks.

My fingers are crossed.

I'm not certain there is a moral to this story other than measure, measure, measure when necessary... if things don't work out, step back, rethink and try again.   Perhaps purchasing a L square might be a good idea as well.

It has been raining here most of the week.  While I find a rainy day perfect for settling in, at home, with a good book, four consecutive days in the classroom without playground time is not fun.  Midweek I finally gave up and took my children outside to play under the covered walkway.  I gave them perimeters and told them to run and yell.  When I opened the flood gate they rushed out screaming, only to quieten when they found hundreds of worms stranded on the cement trying to escape the saturated ground.   While a few children continued to run and jump, most wanted to pick-up and save the worms.  We talked about earthworms and why they were on the sidewalk.   We observed and measured.  By the time we were ready to line up to go in and wash hands, most of the worms were nothing more than a smashed mush.  I think a few (worms) may have posthumously been given names.   

Every day we are given amazing opportunities to discover and learn.  We need only to slow down,  open our eyes, our minds, and stop, observe and listen.  Yes, even those moments when we have deadlines or think we are about to lose our ever lovin' minds.

From the Mouths of Children

My summer vacation has come to an end.  I am back at school, and trying to return to some semblance of a routine.  My mind and my heart are there; my energy level is trying catch up.

My break lasted longer than I anticipated.  I am afraid I underestimated my time away.   The last few days I've thought a lot of how to return to my blog.  What might my subject be.  It feels as if I am back at the beginning.

My book group is back together for another year of reading.  I've been spending time in the kitchen baking, canning and experimenting.  There have been home projects and family events.  I've created  these posts over and over in my head,  but as so often happens my returning post comes from an unexpected voice.

Yesterday I shared a favorite book with my children during story time.  

The book,  How Full is Your Bucket, (I may have written about this book before) is a book I use to begin a discussion about being kind to one another, sharing and being a good friend.   The perfect story for the beginning of the school year as we are meeting up with old friends and making new ones.  The basic premise is by treating others with kindness, both the giver and the recipient are filled with joy and good feelings 

(filling one's bucket).

Just as I finished the story and was preparing to ask for suggestions on how to fill our own "bucket" and that of our friends,  one of my boys raised his hand,

"Miss Bonnie, when you do nice, nice comes back to you".

We continued to chat about sharing and being nice to one another.  The children had fabulous ideas, but it was the "when you do nice, nice comes back to you" that continued to echo in my head throughout my day.

I mentioned earlier I am still working on building my day to day stamina...keeping up with preschoolers, wow!   We are all adjusting to a new school year, and becoming reacquainted.   At the end of the day all I really want to do is come home, take a shower, and settle in with a good book.

Yesterday afternoon was no different.  The afternoon was hot and the playground dusty.  By 2:30 I had wilted, but there were errands.   I had also volunteered to help serve dinner to families who are currently in transition and in need of a helping hand.  Leaving school and feeling a bit bedraggled all I really wanted was to have my day finished.  As much as I didn't want to do anything, I knew I needed to follow through with my commitments.  

By the time I reached the hosting Church, I had revived a bit, and was looking forward to being a small part of this worthwhile program.  These are families who are working to pull themselves out of an unfortunate situation.

As I entered the dining hall I was immediately greeted by a young girl of about eleven.

"Hi, my name is ....."

I greeted this happy girl, held out my hand and introduced myself.  

"It is nice to meet you."

She reached over, grasp my hand, but her big smile quickly faded  

as she released my hand and darted around the table toward me,

"I don't do handshakes...

I do hugs!

and threw her arms around my waist.

I hugged her back, and said,

"I'm always good with hugs".

You know my little guy was right this morning...

"When you do nice, nice comes back."

Yes, it does!

And, I slept well last night!

Here We Go!

“So much of our time is preparation, so much is routine, and so much retrospect, that the path of each man's genius contracts itself to a very few hours.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

It is time!

I have been working in my classroom a lot the last few weeks.  I've taken everything out of cabinets, drawers and files, cleaned and totally reorganized.   Hopefully I will remember where I placed things
when I need them.  Keeping my fingers crossed. 

I have left my room many afternoons thinking all was perfect only to tear through it again the next day. I even coaxed my husband to help with moving furniture around Sunday afternoon.  Shhh, we won't tell him I moved most of it back the way it was when I returned on Monday.
Have I mentioned I am a bit obsessive?

Tomorrow I will meet my children and their parents during our open house.
It is an exciting time, and I'm ready to return to my school routine.
Yes, it is time.

During all this busyness I haven't felt like I had the time to commit to a novel, but found my solace instead with short stories and essays.  I'm presently reading Dear Life, a collection of life stories by Alice Munro.   With her extraordinary gift of storytelling Ms. Munro gives us, in few pages,  fully developed character and tales of  lives changed by a simple event or action.  Each piece is a journey without the slightest hint of the final destination.

I was gifted David Sedaris's squirrel seeks chipmunk, I suspect because of the picture of the squirrel and chipmunk staring amorously into each other's eyes.   To be honest I wasn't for sure I would enjoy this book.  Although many are a bit "colorful", most stories are a bit fablesque ending with a lesson.   Maybe it was because I was tired, but I found this collection
 of irreverent tales hilarious.  This is satire at its best...
well, at least at its funniest.

Tomorrow after Open House I am headed to the bookstore in search of a book to slip into over my long Labor Day weekend.   I have a few on my list, but I am up for suggestions.  I'm not quite sure if I am wanting an escape or something a bit weighty.  I suppose I'll figure it out.

I read many enjoyable books over the summer; I am looking forward to sharing my favorites with you.

Full Circle

“[T]hat old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, 
vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air ... 
Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year's mistakes had been wiped clean by summer.” 

Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose

Blooms are fading.  

The sun is rising later and setting a little earlier.

Shadows and reflections are bending and rising,
dancing to a different rhythm.

Autumn is still weeks away, but for me summer is drawing to an end.
My beloved books are left laying unopened for longer periods of time.  The calendar
has come out of hiding; meetings have begun.  The voice of a new school year
 is whispering in my ear.

As a student, I loved everything about beginning a new school year... new clothes, new books,
new and old friends, and favorite teachers.

As a mother,  I always found the beginning of school difficult.  I was never ready
to give up time with my daughter.

As a teacher, I get excited thinking about the promise of a new year.
I suppose,  I've come full circle.

Work Before Play

This is my busiest time of the school year.  

The "wheels on the bus" are carrying me straight downhill 

at breakneck speed.

There is always something for which to prepare, 

to begin or to finish.   

Work comes home.

The studio gathers a fine layer of

paper clippings and glitter.

Crayons and pencils become dull, 

paint pots are emptied, 

and erasers disappear into a rubbery dust.  

Favorite things must be put aside.

                                                                                                     Sigh!

You know where I am going with this don't you?

An unexpected cold rain shower is alway the perfect excuse 

for spending the afternoon with

a good read,

but alas, there is just so much to do.

Having a "to do" list as long as my arm 

may temporarily stop me from opening the covers of a book, 

yet it hasn't slowed me down in putting together 

my summer "to read" or "to consider to read" list. 

It certainly hasn't stopped my car from parking in front of a local bookstore

(it is on the way home from....somewhere).

It only takes a few minutes to run in and find a few things

in preparation for my summer.

 I'll keep a smile and be patient,

and mind what I tell my children,

"work before play".

My hands are trembling.

Oh, what do you think?

Will I be successful?

I hear them calling my name...

Oh, maybe just a taste.

I'll be playing, I mean working in the garden today.

Are you planning to play this weekend?

Whatever you choose, may you stay safe and find peace.

Can You....

have too many days of celebration?

I jokingly tell the story of a year, one of my first to teach, when we sent the children home wearing a Mardi Gras mask, carrying a bag full of Valentine treats and an American flay in honor
of President's Day.  

This year is very closely a repeat.  Yesterday we donned our masks, all purple, gold and green, paraded around in costume and gathered Mardi Gras beads.  There was King cake with a baby hidden within to be found by one.  

Today began in Chapel.
 We were told about the Lenten season, a season of quiet reflection, and received ashes.  We sang a new hymn and practiced not saying alleluia.

We quietly walked back to our classroom and gathered on the rug where
 I held up and shared the book

because, yes it was our 100th day of school.

cute placemats designed by a creative co-worker

We counted out different small finger foods until everyone had one hundred things....well sort of, many ate as fast they counted.  It was fun, confusing and exhausting.

Tomorrow I will be handing out

Valentines with

a little something sweet  tucked inside.

Whew!  What a busy and fun and glitter filled week.
Oh, you know how much I love glitter!

Oh...did I forget President's Day?

We will be out of school Monday; we might celebrate early, Friday, or...
                                                                                           maybe I'll just wait till Tuesday.

via

February has to be the best month ever!

Happy Valentine's Day! 


“Time is very slow for those who wait
Very fast for those who are scared
very long for those who lament 
Very short for those who celebrate

But for those who love time is eternal”    

                                                                William Shakespeare                                                                                       

A Twelve Minute Trip

On most mornings it takes me seventeen minutes to get to school.   My husband was amazed when I shared my route with him.  I take that road, then turn there, take that side street, around the curve,  turn right at the stop sign, down the hill and there is the entrance.  Seventeen minutes!

via

My return trip home takes a bit longer depending on the time of day.  Seldom does it take me longer than twenty minutes.   If I hit the traffic lights just right I can sometime make it in my seventeen minute time frame.  

So why am I talking about this today?

Oh, the trip in this morning was fine.  I zipped this way, then that,  cutting through the usual neighborhood and arrived with no problems.  The children arrived and we began our day.  

Our letter this week is the letter Q.   Once we finished a little table work, we gathered in circle time.  I ask the children, "What is a question?"  Everyone started talking, but no one could answer my question.  I explained a question is a group of words we put together to get information.   I told them many questions begin with who, what, when, where or how.   I gave several examples then ask the children to raise their hands and ask me a question.

via

At the beginning there was the expected, "One time" and "My daddy".   I stopped each one and explained a question is used to ask something, not to tell a story.  Soon I was hearing, "When do we go to music?"... "Do I stay for lunch today?" ... "When will it get dark?"...  

I jumped up and began applauding and cheering (in my head I was patting myself on the back).  I was so excited...they got it.... They were really grasping the concept.  With each question came another, then I heard, "Miss Bonnie when can we go out and play in the snow?"  Continuing to clap I said, "Oh that is a marvelous question".

"No Miss Bonnie, look out the window, when do we get to go outside and play in the snow?"

It was not only snowing but sleeting.   Parents began arriving to pick up children with stories of roads becoming treacherous.  Soon we received word school was closing.  Emails went out,  phone calls were made.  

around this corner was bumper to bumper

While waiting for the last of the children to leave, a friend and I discussed the best route to take home.  We planned and left within minutes of one another.  I called my husband to tell him I was leaving school; it was 12:20.   Twelve minutes?  Not quite.  I drove into my driveway at 2:30.

Sorry for the lack of pictures, but there were cars slipping and sliding all around.
I'm happy to be home safely with a fire in the fireplace.

What will tomorrow bring?
I don't have an answer to that question.

I do love winter!

Did you have an adventure today?

Stay safe and warm!

Thoughts From the Island....Perfection

“The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply because they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.” 

J.M. Barrie

I use the word perfect a lot.  Whenever anyone shows me something...perfect.  When someone answers my question...perfect.  When a child finishes a page in a workbook or cuts out a leaf...perfect.  It has become something others, especially my children, have learned through the years to expect when something is successfully completed.  Several years ago I had a child so observant she would remind me if I became distracted and failed to say...perfect.

Yet we all know nothing is ever perfect.  Being a self-proclaimed perfectionist  I have learned through years of trying, fretting and aging I most often fail and must accept falling somewhere in-between okay and good.   My friends know me well enough to know I can and will agonize excessively over things that turn out a little less than what I expect.    I am learning and trying to accept that some pictures are going to turn out unfocused.

I am not going to catch all my typing and grammatical errors.  So when I reread and find insulted for insulated, or comment for commit (I am totally blaming auto-correct)  you may rest assured I am behind this computer screen wringing my hands wondering if it is too late to edit.  

Flowers cannot all be saved and

well-meaning words do not always come out well-meaning.
That one can keep me up at night.

And, not all peaches are beautifully ripe when you cut them open.

Life is in itself imperfect.

 I had a child this year whom I bonded with mostly because we are both hopeless perfectionist.   I understood his procrastinating, agonizing and disappointment over a mistake.  As a teacher it wasn't difficult for me to talk him through his mistakes even though I knew in my heart the pain he was feeling.

One morning we were working the worksheet in our Weekly Reader.   There were four questions to answer.   The children needed to only write in the first letter of each word.  We had already worked on the letters needed;  I was not concerned.  I asked the question, the children gave me the correct word and the letter.  I turned from writing the letter "b" on the chalkboard to find my friend with his head on the table.  I ask him what was wrong, he wouldn't answer me.  I ask the other children if they knew what was going on.  No one knew.  I knelt down next to him and told him I would like to help, but I couldn't if I didn't know the problem.  He said,  "Miss Bonnie, I wrote the wrong letter.  I wrote  "h" instead of "b".  

After looking at his paper I assured him it actually was not a problem at all.  "Look, at your letter.  You just haven't finished.  It may look like a "h", but if you finish at the bottom you will  have a "b"."    And yes once he finished his "b", I said "perfect".

I am learning it is not about being perfect (though I am sure I have many more fretful times ahead), but learning how to adapt, learn from and finish my many imperfections.   And, I'm still learning the things I need to know in kindergarten (pre-school).

I believe I read somewhere that perfect actually means finished.

With that said....I am perfect!

**********

As promised....

the perfect cake

Peach Upside-Down Cake

(Southern Living)

4 medium peaches (1 12 lbs.), unpeeled and cut into 1/3 inch wedges

2 tbsp. fresh lemon juice

1 cup cake flour (I used all purpose)

3/4 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. baking soda

1 1/4 cups granulated sugar, divided

3/4 cup unsalted butter, (room temp. and divided)

1/2 cup firmly packed light brown sugar (I used dark)

1 vanilla bean

2 large eggs

1/2 cup sour cream (I used greek yogurt)

Sweetened whipped cream (optional, but really good with it)

Preheat oven to 350 F.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  (I also lined my iron skillet I baked the cake in with parchment paper.)  Toss peaches with lemon juice.  Sift together flour, baking powder, and baking soda.

Cook 1/2 cup granulated sugar in a 10-inch cast iron skillet  over medium heat, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon, 10 minutes or until sugar melts and turns a deep amber color.  Remove from heat.  Immediately add 1/4 cup butter, stirring vigorously.  Spread caramelized sugar to coat bottom of skillet evenly, and sprinkle with brown sugar.  Arrange peach wedges in concentric circles over sugar mixture, overlapping as needed.

Split vanilla bean lengthwise, and scrape out seeds into bowl of a heavy-duty mixer.  Beat vanilla seeds and remaining 3/4 cup sugar and 1/2 cup butter at medium speed until smooth.  Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating until blended after each addition.  Add sour cream, beating until blended after each addition.  Add sour cream (yogurt) beating until blended.  Gradually add sifted flour mixture, beating at low speed just until blended and stopping to scrape bowl as needed.  Spoon batter over peaches in skillet, and spread to cover.  Place skillet on prepared baking sheet.

Bake at 350 F for 40 to 45 minutes or until golden brown and a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean.  Cool in skillet on a wire rack 10 minutes.  Run a knife around edge to loosen.

Carefully pour out any excess liquid from skillet into a measuring cup, and reserve.  Do be concerned if you do not have any liquid.  (I didn't have any liquid; my peaches were not completely ripened)  Carefully invert cake onto a serving plate and drizzle with any reserved liquid.  Cool slightly.  Cut with serrated knife.

Bon Appetit'

Building a List

Yesterday was officially my last day of school.  I say officially because in reality I have a week off before returning for our month long summer program.  While I will look forward to it ending I have little reason to complain.  It is only three days a week, unstructured, and actually, I will be in San Francisco during one of the weeks.  It is really more of a camp than school; I will have the luxury to do some of the things I had to place on the shelf during the busy month of May.

one of the latest portraits of me

I have visions...

 ...of spending hours digging in the dirt and putting the finishing touches to my lavishly planted gardens.   You can rest assured when I am finished the colors, the textures and movement will be "Home and Garden" perfect.

When the heat has overtaken me I shall return inside to cut out and stitch up a tablecloth (maybe two)  to replace the quilt I've thrown over the table in the sunroom.  If there is time I will most certainly be sewing the curtain panels I have been needing to soften the angles in the bedroom.  And, there are new pillows and chair covers needed as well.

When my fingers are bleeding and sufficiently pricked, and I can no longer push a needle through the fabric (we know I will be sewing totally by hand)  I will retreat to my very long "to-read" list.  A list I have built by reading too many book reviews and book blogs and talking to too many people.   A list that does actually include War and Peace (I'm not kidding) thanks to Mr. Conroy.  

I will put my book down each afternoon only long enough to retreat to the kitchen to prepare a gourmet dinner to be served with a perfectly paired bottle of wine. George, (you do remember George?)  will obviously do all the shopping and cleaning for I will be far too busy.

Have I entertained you?

  Actually, Memorial Day weekend is when I do my final push to complete all my planting in my extremely modest and eclectic garden which is already leggy, 

dehydrating and struggling.    I am afraid gardening publications will not be seeking me out anytime soon.  

I was told the temperatures will be nearing 100 degrees this next week.  If this is true I will be retreating indoors rather early each day.  The sewing projects actually are on my project list (although I am really not partial to drapes), however, I believe I will forget them on the shelf for a few extra weeks.  And be assured none of the above mentioned projects will be sewn by hand.  

I will however be reading.  My list is extensive for all the above mentioned reasons.  And, yes War and Peace is on the list.  I should mention it has enjoyed a permanent spot on "the list" for years.  I wish I could finish a stack of books in just a week, or even the one,  Mr. Tolstoy's masterpiece; I am not an exceptionally fast reader.  I enjoy spending time with a good book, marking pages and returning to favorite passages to taste and digest once again.  My point being I may finish one or two books during my week of idleness.  And, I am sure my list will continue to grow faster than I can possibly remove the titles.  

Oh, I must give credit where credit is due,  the dish in my fantasy was created by my wonderful husband while I was hidden under photographs,  construction paper and glue.   During the summer months I prefer to make simple dishes.

chicken ginger noodle bowl

...on the subject of building my book list

A few weeks ago while sitting in the St. Louis airport waiting for my flight home, a delightful woman sat next to me and began chatting.  We discovered we had several things in common...the love of art, music, architecture.  I was returning home after celebrating my son (in-law)'s law school graduation.  She was traveling to celebrate her son's medical school graduation.   We were both proud Mothers. 

 I was sitting with the latest copy of "The New Yorker" in my lap prompting the conversation toward reading and books.  She began telling me about how excited she was to have just joined a book group at the Art Museum in St. Louis.   She told be about the book they had  just finished, giving me a brief synopsis.  She had enjoyed it very much.   I quickly pulled out my iPhone and added the title to the ever growing list.

While almost everyone I know is currently involved with the "Shades of Grey" series.  (At a luncheon yesterday the series was the talk at my end of the table.   Alas, no one was interested in my newest acquisition.)   I will be reading "The Paper Garden".   Yes, I think I've pretty much sealed my place in the "not-so-in" group.

I would love to know how you build your reading list?   Do you select from the top or within your list, or do you choose from to the bottom?

If you are celebrating Memorial Day...Enjoy!

Have a terrific weekend wherever you find yourself.  

And please, read whatever makes you happy!

(all  images, the good, the bad and the ugly, are mine)

Friday

Friday was a very good day! 

The day started early.  My alarm sounded around six a.m.   I reached over and turn off the music as I slid my my feet over the side of the bed and onto the floor.  I shuffled into the bathroom to begin my morning ritual.  I had a lot of things rushing through my head.  There was an abandoned dog, Buddy, at the shelter I was fretting over.  I was beginning to feel a little panicked over end of the year books.  And, it was PROGRAM DAY.  

I headed into the shower rehearsing the list of songs the children would be singing:  The Star Spangled Banner,  I Sing a Song of the Saints of God,  Alleluia Alleluia Give Thanks, and I am a Promise.  From the shower I continued with all the other things I do to get out of the door each morning.   Makeup...check.  Hair...check.  Clothes...check and shoes...check.  Ouch the shoes were pinching just a bit.  Band Aid...check.

Once downstairs I let Willie out, made a cup of tea and poured the last of the cereal crumbs into a bowl for my breakfast.  It was okay, I was running on adrenaline.  My thoughts returned to Buddy.  I was almost certain I had found a home for him on Thursday, but I began worrying something might have gone wrong, and no one would tell me until after the PROGRAM.   Good morning email sent to my daughter...check.   Willie back in the house...check.  Cell phone...check. Camera...check.  Water bottle...check.  Okay, I headed out the door to school.

Early morning was crowded, but uneventful.  The children played while I pulled together some activities to occupy my class while we waited our performance time.   At 8:20 I sent everyone to their classrooms and started welcoming my own classroom children.  They slowly arrived dressed in their best.  Once everyone was accounted for we started our day with the Pledge, The Star Spangled Banner (had to get in one last rehearsal), and the calendar.  I decided a Weekly Reader and a book would be the safest possible activities.  I didn't want anyone to accidentally cut or spill paint on their clothes.  I wanted everyone to stay clean.
The minutes passed slowly, but soon it was time to leave for our performance.  Children to  the bathroom...check,  Everyone in line...check.  Shirt tails tucked in...check.  Hair bows straight...check.  Faces clean...check.  Printed program with notes in hand...check,  Tissues...check.   "Everyone smile and sing please".

The Program was fabulous!  The children smiled, sang, performed and took their bows.  The parents applauded with cheers and great enthusiasm.   After greeting my parents I sought out the person who could fill me in on Buddy's status.  "Do we know anything about Buddy?"  "I think they adopted him yesterday".  I smiled.  I visited with more of the parents and posed for pictures with the children.  I finally spied the family I had talked to about our Buddy.  I walked toward them; they met me halfway.  "Well, did you go see Buddy?"  "Buddy is safe.  He is having his little surgery and we will pick him up on Tuesday."  "Oh, thank you.  You are my heroes.  Thank you so much!"

Program over and successful...check.  Buddy safe and has a family...check.

The day just could not get any better.



I helped clean up the Parish Hall; return chairs, instruments and other things to the school.  I walked around the school and wished everyone a Happy Mother's Day, then texted Roger.  "Lunch"?  No reply.  Oh well, he probably was busy, and I had some errands to run.  When I arrived home Roger's car was in the driveway.  "Did you get my text?"  "You sent me a text?"  "I thought you might want to go to lunch instead of having supper tonight."  "I thought you would be at school all afternoon."  "No,  we all pitched in and finished quickly."   "Sorry."  "No problem."

"What do you want for dinner? I'll run to the grocery store."  "I've already taken care of it;  I'm feeling like a steak."  "Oh, okay.  Did you get stuff for a salad?"  "Yep.  I've got to go to the office for a little while."  "Oh, okay.  I may work on my books, or not."

Roger left and I opened up the laptop.  I checked in on all of you and thought about what I would write for a Mother's Day post.  I found the lyrics of the song that always make me think of my mother and began searching for a picture of her in her later years.  The only picture I could find was one where she was sitting with my daughter working a word puzzle.  They were both dressed for bed.  Heather in her nightgown and Mother in her robe.  I knew she would be devastated if I posted the picture of her in her robe, so I continued to search.  I heard Roger come in the back door and start up the stairs, but continued looking through a container of old family photos.  "What are you doing?"  "Oh, just going through all these old pictures.  I can't believe I have so few pictures of Mother.  I have tons of Daddy.  He always loved the camera.  Mother was so shy.  Would you put this box back up in the closet for me, please?"  "Absolutely."

I went back downstairs and started writing my Mother's Day post.  It was going to be about my beautiful Mother.  I typed and Roger messed around in the kitchen.  I really didn't think too much about it.  "Call me if you need any help.  I'm just writing a post."  "I'm good."  He seemed to have everything under control; with Willie curled up by my side I continued to type .

Heather called and we began chatting about our day.  She ask about Buddy and the program.  I told her everything had gone beautifully.  Willie jumped down and ran into the foyer letting out a yelp followed by whimpers.  Roger came out of the kitchen, "What's wrong Willie?  What is going on?"  

Heather asked what was going on?  I heard Roger open the front door and Willie's cries became louder.  "I don't know.  It sounds like someone is at the front door.  Something is wrong with Willie.  I've got to go see".  I put the computer down and walked toward the front door all the while talking with my daughter, "Your Dad is talking to someone."  As I turned the corner, Roger opened the door and someone walked past.  It took me a moment to process what was happening and who was walking toward me.

"Happy Mother's Day!"

My daughter walked into my arms.

Smiles...check.  Hugs...check.  Tears...check.
Happy heart...most definitely, check.

Oh, cell phone off...check.

Truly, Friday could not have gotten any better.

Thank you Heather and Kyle for the best Mother's Day weekend ever.
You both fill my heart with gladness.

I hope everyone had a great Mother's Day.





 

words, words, words

I love words.  I enjoy listening to words as much as I like reading them.  I will sometimes become so wrapped up in the words while reading, I  have to return to the beginning of a chapter and reread to pull out the content.   I find it mind-boggling when I think of how words were created and have developed over time.

Before sitting down to write this I did a bit of research on the "origin of language" and find I am in good company.  It seems when and how language was developed has been debated for over a hundred years.  At one time the subject became so heated the discussion was banned.  There are several circulating theories, one being we are genetically encoded.  I am not an academian, anthropologist, archeologist nor am I a linguistist; I am simply a lover of words (though probably a poor user of words).

The subject of "words" has been on my mind since listening to All Things Considered on NPR last week.  The interview was with Ben Greenman of "The New Yorker" regarding the elimination of  the single most offensive word in the English language.

Before I continue, I must tell you NPR is the only station I listen to while driving.  I've been know to sit in my car just to hear the end of an interview.  With that said I must say I seldom hear the beginning.  This can be a problem when I am trying to retell something I found interesting.  I don't always have all the details.  To make sure I fully understood this interview I pulled up the transcript so I might have my facts straight.  I will admit when I told the story earlier this weekend,  I did have a few of the facts skewed... a little.

The New Yorker ask its readers to respond, via twitter, with their nominations for the worst word.   Awesome, moist and slacks were the top three.   After much deliberation the powers that be decided slacks was the most offensive word.  "People said it felt like rubbing the palm of their hand over polyester...".  Personally I can think of a few more offensive words.

Fast forward to this morning.  I am breezing through the Sunday paper, separating the good from the garbage when I see an article titled "All hope is gone, surely for grammarians"  (I will add grammarian to the list of things I am not.)  Again, via twitter the Associated Press Stylebook stated It, too, had succumbed.  "We now support the modern usage of hopefully, ...It is hoped, we hope."  The article goes on to say the fight over the proper use of "hopefully" has been going on for decades.   Personally, I had no clue such a vicious battle had ensued.

If we can, even jokingly, eliminate words or change the way a word is used... who is to judge if a word is being used correctly.  Doesn't it make it all a little subjective?   All this fighting over and eliminating of words has left me perplexed.

Surely someone will help clear the confusion, she said hopefully.

*****

While on the subject of words....  A couple of weeks ago our "letter of the week" was "A".  My usual routine is to have the children give me words beginning with the letter.  I have a few children who are always ready with a word and then I have those who struggle.  The obvious words are the first to be shouted out:  ape, apple, acorn, and....  I want each child to have a word on the chalkboard so I give lots of hints.  While helping one child, one of my girls raised her hand while calling out "Miss Bonnie, Miss Bonnie, I have a word".   Certain she had thought of the word I was asking for, I called her name.  "App".  "Ape?  Ape is already on the board."  "No,  app" showing me her hand while pretending to push buttons with a finger on the other hand, "app".

"Okay.  Uppercase or lowercase?"
  Well, I am sure there is an app to find that.

We lose a word... We gain a word...

I hope you are having a wonderful weekend and never find yourself at a loss for words.