First Days

Wow Boy! Monday was tough -- physically tough. During the summer the janitors remove everything from your room so they can buff the floors. It appears they don't do much else except maybe turn your desk upside down six or seven times and shake it and leave your lounge chairs in the classroom across the hall and completely lose your bookcase. They don't clean anything. But the floors sure do shine. After doing the floors, they put stuff back in classrooms, but they don't much care whose room things go back into.

The first days are always spent on a scavenger hunt, looking for your desk chair, the keyboard to your computer, and your overhead projector. I didn't go in to school early this year; I spent the last free days of summer wallowing in TV reruns of Stargate and Burn Notice. So Monday, I came into a huge classroom mess.

It was hot. And humid. Very humid. Though we are air conditioned, the size of the school and the height of the ceilings preclude us getting nice and chilly. I spent the first hour pushing around loaded bookcases and file cabinets. By the time I had worked up a complete sweat it was time for the first all school faculty meeting.

I spent lunch snacking on the sandwich Hubby had provided and moving my teacher's desk and setting up the computer equipment. Then it was time to head down four flights of stairs to the cafeteria to get the equipment needed for the newest faculty push -- MIRP (used to be called Sustained Silent Reading back in the '80's -- now it's Monitored Independent Reading Practice). The whole school will be participating this year. The tub, the file folders, and labels, and the hanging strip blanket (which looks a lot like a shoe rack with much smaller cellophane panels) had to be lugged back to the third floor.

Next we had MIRP training. Then back up to the third floor to push around more furniture and work up a good lathering sweat before finally going home at 4 p.m.

I got home, fell into bed, and passed out. Hubby fixed me a plate of pancakes (comfort food) for dinner, I took a bath, and passed out a second time. My whole body hurt. I told Hubby the only thing not in dire pain were my lips, my ear lobes, and my eye lashes. Somehow I had wrenched my bad knee, strained my back, and pulled my shoulder and neck muscles. I took a muscle relaxer at bed time and when I woke up at midnight I swallowed my second Celebrex of the day (I try for only one a day and only if in dire pain -- but by midnight I was still unable to walk upright).

At 3 a.m. when I woke up to turn over (the arthritis is bad enough I can no longer turn over in my sleep) I was still in misery. But two more hours helped enormously and by 5 a.m. I was feeling much more normal.

Today we had Convocation -- away from my high school. Then it was SPED meetings in the afternoon at the downtown convention center. I spent the day, happily sitting on my butt. It was much needed rest.

Tomorrow I'm once again back at my high school, going to meetings and pushing around my classroom furniture to try and find a pleasing arrangement. Thursday is dedicated to spending a whole day in our classrooms, working on lesson plans and adding "pretty" touches to make the room feel more home-like.

On Friday the Freshmen will come for a day of orientation but this year, for the first time, a group of student mentors will be handling the entire day -- and the faculty is delirious with the joy that this freedom brings us.

Let me add that Convocation today was really lovely. Instead of importing pompous speakers and people of dubious importance, this district puts on a home-grown show of good cheer and support. The faculty members who can play instruments make up the band. The ROTC brings out the flags. The teachers of excellence selected throughout the year are honored. The superintendent tells some funny stories about her year. This year, at the conclusion, a kid came out and asked if we believed in him (the district motto is "We Believe") and he was charming and outgoing and well-rehearsed and we cheered him lustily, as he ran through the secretaries, the custodians, the cafeteria workers, the principals, the down-town administrators, and the teachers. It was a sweet, warm, soulful experience from a district who is proud of its accomplishments and aware of its shortcomings.

I'm very, very proud to say I teach in here. Now if only my poor old body would just cooperate . . .

Off to School

It's that time of year -- school starts on Monday. This is my fourth year in this school district, my 26th total. My beautiful, historic building awaits.

I've accessed my roll through the school software and see that I have 18 students in my first semester English 3 / 4 class. That's a healthy number for SPED kids. Not nearly as big as gen ed classes which I hear are running 35 and up -- but these are special needs kids and you get more than 20 of them in a room and it's tough on everybody, especially the teacher trying to meet individual, critical needs.


I'm still co-teaching with the same social studies teacher who this year is also head of my SLC (small learning community). I like working with him -- he's easy to get along with in a classroom setting. Not always so easy in person, but then neither am I.


My SPED community is fantastic. I love these folks. They are knowledgeable, aware, and caring. The school psych is beyond great.


So, though the summer is ending for me -- I have a fine job for the next year. I am one of the lucky ones. I earn enough, I'm respected in what I do, I find satisfaction in it, and I'm good at it. The only flaw in the ointment is that I'm still working on SPED certification and start three hours of grad school in mid-August.


I'll be probably not be very vocal on this blog for a week or so while I try and get acclimated. Then I'll be back with kid stories instead of dog tales.

Just the Prettiest Two Boyo's Ever

From our vacation, two wonderful photos of the boys.

First Gus, the amber-eyed beauty who never, ever misbehaves. He's sitting in the back-seat of the rental car, somewhere in Illinois on the first day of the trip. Gus is five.

Next up, Luie, the character -- he's "woowooing" me here, to let me know exactly where the rental car is while I'm standing outside the car taking photos of DC; he's blind so he thinks I need help to find the car because my nose and my ears don't work nearly as good as his. Luie is 18 months.

Hero Bashing

I just finished watching the news coverage of Bill Clinton returning with two live journalists who had been sentenced to hard labor in North Korea for spying. Al Gore sent him, he met with Kim Jong Il, and secured the safe release of the women.

Now the conservative press have their story for the week. How many conspiracies do you think they can find in this event? How many villains can they name? Just how "het up" can they get? And how many evil, pernicious attacks can they make on Obama, Clinton -- both Hillary and Bill, Gore, and the press itself?

I'm all for free speech but the conservative pundits of this country have become vicious and ugly and mean -- and they see conspiracy and racism against THEM at every turn. How long will the American public buy into this reprehensible behavior?

The Last in the Series

I've been waiting patiently for the final Harry Potter book to be published in paperback form. The books are just too big for me to hold and read for 1000 plus pages. I learned that with the first, and only hard back, Harry Potter that I bought.

The series had been out awhile when I bought my first book from Sam's, the Walmart big box store. I wanted to see what all the shouting was about. I fell in love -- and I passed my book around to my friends and they all became hooked, also. After the first book though, I only read the series in paperback form so I was always a couple of books behind everyone else.

My Potter collection is now on the bookshelves of my classroom. I bought the entire Twilight series at the school library book fair last spring and read the first three in that series, but couldn't stomach anymore of it and never got through book 4. My kids love it and if it gets them to read, I'm fine with that. But the writing is nowhere near as good or the plots as inventive as the Potter series.

I suppose because a new Potter movie is out that Scholastic decided to publish the seventh Potter in paperback -- finally. I've been waiting impatiently since the book came out two years ago. In fact, I did cheat and read the last chapter online -- just to make sure Potter didn't die. On Saturday, there in the children's book section at Sam's, was Harry Potter and The Deadly Hallows.

I didn't open the book until Sunday evening and I've been wrapped up in it ever since. I cried when Dooby died and cheered when Potter went back to Hogwarts. I'm nearing the true and final end of the book now and I'll be sad to put it down. Three summers ago I re-read the series 1 - 5 books just to review all the events. I don't watch the movies but I love the story telling of the writer. I doubt that I'll ever re-read all seven books but I have found pure escapist entertainment in the series. What more can you ask from a good book?

The readers of sci-fi among my family and friends scoff at the Potter books, but I think they are just being intellectual snobs, believing that book meant for "children" can't be all that wonderful. When I read the last page sometime tonight, it will be like losing a good and close friend. It will take me awhile to find anywhere near the delight in another book that I have had from Rowling's Potter series.

Memories of Fritzy

In August of last year, Fritzy -- our 11 year old miniature Schnauzer -- was put "to sleep" because of kidney failure. We had done our best through the summer to keep him alive and the first week of August we let him go.

In October of 2005 I had put my heart dog, Wolfie, "to sleep." He was somewhere between 17 and 19 years old so I should have expected it -- but he had been healthy and hale everyday until the Saturday he suffered a massive bleed in his gut.

I agonized and second guessed myself about both decisions. Euthanization is hard, even when the dog is very sick. I sometimes wish that we could perform the same service for sick humans -- I know I'd choose it for myself rather than suffer an agonizingly slow death -- but then I think how very traumatic these decisions are to make. Anyway, both Wolfie's and Fritzy's deaths were quiet and peaceful. Hubby had away when Wolfie died and I had to make the decision and handle his passing alone. It never occurred to me not to stay with either dog; you are with them in life and you don't abandon them in death, even when your heart is breaking.

With Wolf I was bereft. Both Fritzy and I went into deep decline. I've written about this before -- but after Fritzy and I viewed the body (I had to go and get Fritzy and bring him back to the vet so he could understand what had happened to his pal) and had gone home to grieve, I heard Wolf's distinctive snuffle breathing all afternoon, until Hubby got back home to complete our family unit. When we all cried together -- that was when we knew Wolf was gone. With Fritzy, however, all three of us (Hubby, Gus, and me) were in the room with him. He lay quietly after the injection, the vet told us it would be a minute or so, and suddenly we all knew the exact moment his spirt had "left the room."

I was laying in bed this morning, canoodling with Luie, who came to us at Hubby's insistence, a week after Fritzy died, and remembering Fritzy. Luie is a character. Completely blind in one eye and able to see a little light and shape in the other, he is a whirlwind of motion. He runs and chases and investigates and talks. His "woo-woo" is a wonder to hear. He is always good humored -- and he seems to like playing jokes. He loves with great emotion -- but he can't stay still long enough to express it during daylight hours. Life is his playground.

Each dog has had their own personality -- Milly, our first, was the queen of everything she surveyed. Wolf was my lover -- as selfish as it sounds, my biggest heartbreak when he was gone was that no one or no thing would ever love me the way Wolf did -- heart and soul, he was mine. Fritzy was beautiful -- and persnickety. He wanted things done his way -- he knew where he wanted to sit and sleep and what he would eat, and he would go off alone if we defied him. Like me, his heart broke when his pal, Wolf, died. Gus, who came two weeks after Wolf's death, is serene. He is small and gentle and always calm. He does not complain. He likes to watch. He is the perfect dog, actually, for old folks. He loves to sleep most of the day and all night. He can hold his bladder for up to 18 hours with no complaint for he would never think of making of a mess. And then there's Luie.

Sometimes, I think the universe took Fritzy from us so quickly because there was Luie, in Tulsa, waiting. Sometimes, I think that Wolfie, seeing, from wherever he is, that my broken heart had to be healed somehow -- called Fritzy from us and imprinted Luie -- and voila! the rascal came to mend pieces of my heart together.

However, it happened, this morning, in bed, I was remembering Fritzy and lamenting once again my decision last August to end his life -- when I realized just how quickly and quietly his little spirit had left that room where the vet put him into his final sleep. I think he must have been ready to go, having been sick for so many months. And somehow, he must have known, that though he could NEVER be replaced, a little blind boy was waiting in the wings and desperately needed a home and an expensive eye doctor.

Fritzy was a wonderful dog, smart, loving, strong-willed, beautiful, and protective. Strangers were drawn to him because he was so pretty but they quickly knew not to touch. He was very vocal with strangers. He liked his alone time but he also wanted lots of cuddles and kisses every day -- and would demand them until they were delivered. He would paw and maneuver until he would get us to put aside the book or magazine or TV remote and focus directly on him. When he got sick, he never complained. Last July he lay in our bed, not wanting to eat or play or run outside -- but wanting to cuddle and be loved. He let me know in so many ways that he was ready for us to let go -- and then, when we did finally come to that fateful decision he was gone in an instant. His memory, unlike Wolf's, does not haunt me. That in itself is a lovely parting gift.

And then, with his going, came Luie. What a voyage of discovery we are all on! Wherever Fritz is I hope he knows how much I love and miss him -- and I hope with all my heart that somewhere he and Wolf are playing tug-0f-war with their favorite toy, Bite the Man. Meanwhile, I've got a wild child to take on an early morning romp.

A Fabulous Vacation

Two weeks ago we were sitting on the deck of a private home in Annapolis, directly on the waterfront of Chesapeake Bay watching the sail boats waft homeward to the harbor and the commercial liners chug toward the Atlantic. We had spent the morning touring Washington DC and the afternoon meeting Sister and then driving into Maryland for a week's stay in the most beautiful of homes with it's own private Bay entrance and dock. We had the sole use of the home which has seven bedrooms and multiple baths, a huge kitchen, formal dinning room, formal living room, two sitting rooms, a huge glassed in porch, and an open deck. The setting and the house were simply, absolutely perfect.

Our two day drive to DC was uneventful, the countryside green and lush. Most of the way was along I70 but we hit a stretch of I68 through beautiful historic towns like Cumberland, PA where we snacked on homemade ice cream and enjoyed the historic architecture. The only problem we encountered was one I hadn't anticipated -- Hubby had not informed Sister we were coming so Friday night we needed a motel room in the DC area before we dropped in "unannounced" on his family. You would have to understand the hub's family unit to know why this shouldn't have surprised me . . .but it did.

The problem was NOT finding a room for two -- it was finding a room for two WITH two dogs. One motel wanted a non-refundable deposit of $150 per dog, per night. One thought $75 per dog was reasonable. It took us five hours of driving to finally find a Comfort Inn (in Alexandria -- if you ever need one) that would take the dogs for $10 each if we would stay in a smoking room. We had no problem with the smoking room or the deposit -- but finding all those DC suburbs (and by now it was dark) was NOT fun. Thank god for our little GPS.

The next morning, though, Sister was thrilled to find we were in DC and delighted to let has have the beach house for our stay. We picked up the key and headed to Annapolis where the house is located -- and our vacation continued on without a single hitch.

On Saturday Sister and her husband came to have lunch with us and we offered to go with her to church on Sunday. We learned that her church requires "formal" attire -- meaning long pants for Hubby and a skirt / dress for me -- but a stop at Penney's fixed us both up at fairly reasonable prices, thought I've never worn a Penney's dress in my life, I really like the skirt and matching tee I got there.

Sunday we spent with Sister and her husband, going to church, seeing their business and homes (they have three), and sharing family stories. It was a warm, caring day full of laughter and good memories. Sister, at 90, is still working full time in her own day care business (215 children five days a week) with 32 employees. She and Hubby only reconnected last year -- so lots of family stories were exchanged.

Monday and Tuesday we were on our own. We toured Annapolis and Baltimore on Monday and on Tuesday we headed south and did Mount Vernon and Fredericksburg, VA. Then on Wednesday, Sister and her husband came back to the beach and we sat and visited, had lunch, and visited some more before they departed and we packed the car for an early morning departure for home.

Friday evening we pulled in, tired but replete from a really spectacular ten days on the Eastern seaboard.