School starts after Labor Day weekend for the first time in many, many years. Not just in our county, but all across the state of Maryland. Our summer was longer than usual and it was much appreciated by all.
So now it's August 22nd and I am officially back in school mode. Being an elementary school teacher, there is much to be done in preparing for a new school year. I tend to always ride on a mixture of emotions at this point in the year. I can be as excited as a kiddo in a candy store (but wanting the best and most tempting new classroom supplies/ideas), to being downright stupefied in all the decision making and planning that goes on before school even starts!
Here me out, I cannot imagine myself in any other place at this time in my life. I am completely challenged by my career, I love learning to the point of exhaustion and there is nothing better than making a child feel good about themselves, their ideas and individuality while in my care.
Cheers to all the elementary teachers of the world!
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
Simple Gratitude
I feel compelled to add a bit of gratefulness to the slice. Here goes...
My husband and I live on three acres of land, two of them are lawn mower cut. In an extremely frustrating moment last week (initially for hubby), our $4,000 zero-turn mower stopped working. Yes, I still cringe at the cost. It was not near our house where we keep it stored and out of the elements. No, it was all the way down (our property has hills) the biggest hill near our creek area. I was cleaning up the kitchen, heard the mower stop, looked out the window and there is my husband, Tim, cursing and staring at the mower.
Initially, it seemed to be a belt problem. It was detached from the mower. But the next (and bigger) problem was that of how in the heck we were going to get the mower back up the hill to service and shelter it. I will just say that was one of the most back-breaking exercises I have done in a very long time. With complete agitation, desperation, and willpower we were able (over a two hour time span) to push and pull the mower back to its landing pad. Quite a feat, but we knew we didn't have a choice.
Bear with me, I'm not at the grateful part yet. I will spare you the burden of the cursing, frustration and sweat of Tim having to try a new belt and it not work. Calling family members wasn't helpful because as I was talking to one, Tim motions me over and asks me to take a look at the right wheel. "It's crooked?!" I pronounce with defeat and question. Yes, the wheel frame was bent. Unbelievable. A fairly new expensive mower and the frame is bent. "Must have been the groundhog hole I hit the last time mowing," Tim declared.
At a loss, we stared blankly at the mower. I was thinking we just had several inches of rain and the word "thick" doesn't describe the grass in its current state. We knew without voicing it that this would be a major repair, if at all, and we still had many weeks of the cutting season upon us.
So, there's my backstory. My husband and I are now a few days after the initial crisis. As I sit here typing, there are two very helpful guys cutting our two acre yard. I am impressed with how they have cared for it today. I must give credit to a dear co-worker, a custodian at my school who hooked us up with one of his friends to get the job done. I am in complete gratitude mode for not only having someone like Jamaal help us out in a pinch, but for his friend Mike to take such pride in their work. I am grateful today!
My husband and I live on three acres of land, two of them are lawn mower cut. In an extremely frustrating moment last week (initially for hubby), our $4,000 zero-turn mower stopped working. Yes, I still cringe at the cost. It was not near our house where we keep it stored and out of the elements. No, it was all the way down (our property has hills) the biggest hill near our creek area. I was cleaning up the kitchen, heard the mower stop, looked out the window and there is my husband, Tim, cursing and staring at the mower.
Initially, it seemed to be a belt problem. It was detached from the mower. But the next (and bigger) problem was that of how in the heck we were going to get the mower back up the hill to service and shelter it. I will just say that was one of the most back-breaking exercises I have done in a very long time. With complete agitation, desperation, and willpower we were able (over a two hour time span) to push and pull the mower back to its landing pad. Quite a feat, but we knew we didn't have a choice.
Bear with me, I'm not at the grateful part yet. I will spare you the burden of the cursing, frustration and sweat of Tim having to try a new belt and it not work. Calling family members wasn't helpful because as I was talking to one, Tim motions me over and asks me to take a look at the right wheel. "It's crooked?!" I pronounce with defeat and question. Yes, the wheel frame was bent. Unbelievable. A fairly new expensive mower and the frame is bent. "Must have been the groundhog hole I hit the last time mowing," Tim declared.
At a loss, we stared blankly at the mower. I was thinking we just had several inches of rain and the word "thick" doesn't describe the grass in its current state. We knew without voicing it that this would be a major repair, if at all, and we still had many weeks of the cutting season upon us.
So, there's my backstory. My husband and I are now a few days after the initial crisis. As I sit here typing, there are two very helpful guys cutting our two acre yard. I am impressed with how they have cared for it today. I must give credit to a dear co-worker, a custodian at my school who hooked us up with one of his friends to get the job done. I am in complete gratitude mode for not only having someone like Jamaal help us out in a pinch, but for his friend Mike to take such pride in their work. I am grateful today!
Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Turtle Tuesday
I wanted a butterfly bush planted. My purchase was made in June, so I certainly had procrastinated in getting it out of its gallon tub since it is now August. I convinced my hubby to help in the dig since our Frederick County soil is heavy, rich clay. I knew I would only have my hubby's attention for a short span, so I pointed to an area that didn't have a lot of grass growing, but was showing our rich, brown soil. Now, I have to pause to add that this more "natural" area of our lawn is a special place for snapping turtles to lay their many eggs at the end of May each year. They make the painfully slow journey (as I watch) from Johnson's Creek on our property, past our blueberry bushes and up the grueling hill to where we have purposefully left that area for various wildlife creatures. In this dirt patch area we observe birds pecking, fox and kits rolling, and turtles digging. We have been so conscious to keep this area in our protective eye that in retrospect, I thought,"How could I have hastily instructed my husband to plant the bush in this area?"
As soon as he heaved the shovel in the ground, a queasy feeling approached my stomach and it traveled all the way up my spine to my head. I became light-headed and had to turn away when I saw a patch of bright white inside the dark hole. We immediately felt what we had done. 20-30 turtle eggs lay peacefully on our land. No other critters had disturbed them yet. It was us. All this time protecting the August hatching of one inch turtles.
Tim was completely devastated and quickly covered those lovely eggs back up. He threw down the shovel and voiced what I was thinking, "I feel sick to my stomach." He proceeded to leave without another word.
I stood there for many minutes, not sure of where to go or what to do. It was obvious that a few were killed, some broken and were too premature to make it. I decided, probably for my own comfort, to cover the area a bit more with extra soil.
Not sure if I had a slice of life lesson to learn except pure regret.
Love this video It's not mine, but the music matches my slice of life mood. Forward to the 2 minute mark to see those pearly, white eggs find their home for the next 80-90 days.
As soon as he heaved the shovel in the ground, a queasy feeling approached my stomach and it traveled all the way up my spine to my head. I became light-headed and had to turn away when I saw a patch of bright white inside the dark hole. We immediately felt what we had done. 20-30 turtle eggs lay peacefully on our land. No other critters had disturbed them yet. It was us. All this time protecting the August hatching of one inch turtles.
Tim was completely devastated and quickly covered those lovely eggs back up. He threw down the shovel and voiced what I was thinking, "I feel sick to my stomach." He proceeded to leave without another word.
I stood there for many minutes, not sure of where to go or what to do. It was obvious that a few were killed, some broken and were too premature to make it. I decided, probably for my own comfort, to cover the area a bit more with extra soil.
Not sure if I had a slice of life lesson to learn except pure regret.
Love this video It's not mine, but the music matches my slice of life mood. Forward to the 2 minute mark to see those pearly, white eggs find their home for the next 80-90 days.
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Visit https://twowritingteachers.org/challenges/ to read about the weekly AND monthlong Slice of Life challenges. What a fabulous idea, Stacey Shubitz! This is just what I was looking for, not only for myself, but my students as well.
Thanks, too, to Ralph Fletcher and his new book,
joy write, Cultivating High-Impact, Low-Stakes Writing for sharing The Slice of Life Challenge in Chapter 6.
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AND...it's TUESDAY, August 1st!
Share a slice of life at https://twowritingteachers.org/2017/08/01/its-tuesday-share-a-slice-of-life/
First post slicing!
A slice of life, no, actually a slice of tomato. Yes, how delicious. I never thought I would think it, let alone totally agree with it. On the weekend of 7/22/17, my husband and I traveled to the Eastern Shore of Maryland to visit family including his 92 year old grandmother. Upon leaving she gave us two ripe vine tomatoes that a neighbor had shared with her. She wanted us to have them. So, the two tomatoes traveled the three hour trip back to our home in Frederick, MD. I certainly didn't think much of it/them, but when cutting one up for a mixed green salad, I smelled, for the first time, the natural sweetness of a fresh tomato. I had the sudden urge, again for the first time, to sprinkle salt and pepper on a chunk then plop it in my mouth. Yes, how delicious! I finally understood why my paternal grandfather and father loved their summer tomatoes so very much. Memories came to mind of my grandfather's meticulous garden filled with mainly beefy, red tomatoes and he riding on his rust colored cruiser bike to deliver them to our house. I did not truly appreciate them then, but I just had my first adult moment of doing so.
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