Some more SPRING!

Spring!

 

did I mention...

that I'm a past member of the NCTE (Nat'l Council of Teachers of English)? So, I get their newsletter. Lo and behold, checking my school email I see the new newsletter. Then, to my shock and further mortification, I see the Gville Sun article about me there. Linked to a blog. ALL of it in a very public arena. I know GOD has a purpose. I just wish I knew what it was. It just goes on and on...http://ncteinbox.blogspot.com/

Outside

I discovered Picasa! YAY!

and more...

Even though it's a bad day, I'm surrounded by beauty. My diploma, the back of my Mama's house, the dogwood tree, a lily, the redbud tree on a blue sky canvas.

so you had a bad day...

Yes, a bad day. A bad week. I am on administrative leave from my teaching job. I am heartbroken. But, I know that God is in control. "I don't know about tomorrow, there are things I don't understand, I don't worry over the future, but I know who holds my hand." Here's what I've spent my days doing... and the chocolate cake is actually amazingly delicious...the pic doesn't do it justice. : )

and today I became lunch

Now I know how that little duck really felt...

My teaching life...

I often wonder if I've chosen the right career. Sometimes I feel like this little duck...I'm there just checking things out, but in the back of my head I know I might be lunch.

Sometimes we fight for the wrong reasons

and people die.

It makes me sad when I think about injustice. Attending the festival in Olustee today brings up mixed feeling for me. I am proud to be a Southerner. I am proud to be a Floridian. I am not proud of the way African Americans have been treated here. I've felt this way all my life. It's just been an inherent feeling for me. It has always given me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. We are all SO much more alike than we are different.

I am a word person. I LOVE language. I love the way words sound. I love the way they feel in my mouth. I love to hear people with different accents speak. So then, when I see words in Latin or French or Spanish or English and compare the similarities between the words, it makes me wonder even more why we insist on being different. Sharing something as basic and necessary as language, the very way we communicate, should cause wonder. It should inspire kinship. Yet, even still today it causes us to fight for the wrong reasons. And people still die.

Friday night and warm friends...

I guess I love Friday nights. It's the end of a work week, my family is usually home, and it's amazingly relaxing. As the kids have gotten older, time spent at home is slowly decreasing. They have friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, dances, jobs and so it goes. My daughter still wants to watch "Lion King" with us. That makes me happy. My son still tells me his stories. That too makes me happy. It's 35 degrees here now. My daughter made homemade bread. I live a blessed life.

Poems

OK, so pretty much poetry makes me happy. I was never much of a poetry fan until college. It is SUCH a release. I'm trying to make my little angels understand that...it's one area of English where there really, honestly are no wrong answers. They're supposed to recite a poem from memory on Wednesday. My Valentine's Day gift to them! :) So, my Valentines gift to you, a couple of mine. I hope you get to spend Valentine's Day with the ones you love. Enjoy!

Last Words
I wanted him to know I understand.
I tasted
the crabapple rage.
I smelled
the mocking isolation
Were God's eyes open to our heartbreak?
My emotions appear as
worn words
on serious white paper.
Yours spill out
in brash, splashy color
on stylish canvas.
Starry Night Vincent
Exquisite.
Wrapped in blue darkness,
the steeple closed its eyes.
God did too.
What eternity do we face?
You and I share a black-cum-gray world.
Players in a tragedy.
Your paintings of anguished release.
My muddled words
fill simply empty air.
We don't belong.
I am sorry for your fight with Gauguin.
I am sorry I missed the train.
I toil with the heaviness of the wheatfield
crows that terrify me.
Dr. Gachet thought you were doing well.
I made it to you Vincent.
If only you had held tighter
to those spiraling tress you painted at Saint-Remy.
I understand the sunflowers now.
They answered for us both.

Dripping a Valiant Death

You watch quietly.

Flickering light.

Billowing.

Flame like an old lady's fingers.

Fiery life's blood drips like tears.

How sad to feel

your body waning.

Each drop steals a bit more.

Scent of wildflowers settling

dim as twilight

Still as a sated lover.

coffee warm.

Flaming, but without malice.

Burning, but not destructive.

Silently knowing your benefit to me

is death to you.

whisper hot words

guide a young man's hands.

Dauntless now. Skin shed.

Your loftiest aspiration to serve.

Gallant light, breathe your last.

Wilt away.

MY Friday night lights

It's Friday night.
9:53
37 degrees
made it through the first week having my attack student back
new furniture (1st in 18 years!)
hot coffee
new magazines
Jimmy Stewart on the TV
hubby playing a video game
daughter out with a "friend"
little boys (son and bud) playing with fire in the back yard -
they are getting ready for the Medieval Faire
haven't talked to Mama all day (daughter did, she's fine)
candle glow
smells like peace (is that possible?)
cats all snuggled up and warm
my life is blessed
It's Friday night.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Grandma and the "babies"
One of 20+ years of the Christmas Cousins on "Poppie's couch"

It's the beginning, the middle and the end! I LOVE Christmas. I love everything about it. The only thing that tempers the joy is that my Daddy died December 7th. He loved Christmas too. I miss him a little more around this time of year. I know Mama does. That's what makes this even harder. I know that I should take care of her without complaint. But, it is HARD. I didn't expect to be the caregiver for teenagers and a Grandma. When Daddy died, I said I would do anything to help and I did. I moved in with my husband (God bless him), my children (6 and 3), lock, stock, and barrel! Did I mention MY grandma lived there too? So anyway...point is, I've been doing this caregiver thing for a while.My mom has recently taken to falling. Forward, backward, sideways...every which way but loose. She has bad knees, diabetes, osteoporosis...and so it goes. I talk to her oh, probably 12 times a day. Did I mention she lives within spittin' distance? So I see her daily as well.

My mom is a throwback. She wanted to be a wife and mother. She wanted to stay home with her kids. She was raised by her "Mama and Papa" because her mom was a wild child. She was "Mother" to her, never Mama. She grew up knowing who her father was and that he didn't take care of her as he did his "legitimate" children. She loved him still and cried when he died. She cooked every meal, washed all the clothes, paid all the bills, wiped most of the tears and cleaned most of the scraped knees. Daddy was in the Navy until 1966 and Mama had four kids at home. Kids born in 1955, 1956, 1957, and 1966 (that'd be me and no, I am not an accident) She didn't drive...never had a license. She taught me about God and took me to church every Sunday. She made sure I knew that was the most important thing. She was instrumental in the integration of our school in the early 70's. She babysat in the 80's so I could have Lacoste shirts and a car. She kept Daddy from killing my brothers when they wrecked cars. She kept him from killing my sister when she wrecked a Jeep with me in the front seat and my teeth hit the dashboard. She babysat for me in the 90's so I could work without paying for daycare. She cried right along with me when I became the first college graduate in our family(at age 39.) I don't think she could have been more proud. So, when I think about it, maybe I owe her a little more than I like to give. I know she won't be here for a whole lot longer. And I know I'll miss seeing that phone number (which we've had for my whole life) on the caller ID. Maybe it takes seeing things in black and white to see them clearly.

Maybe I should let her read this too.

Post Thanksgiving wonderings

My days "off" for the holiday have been like this:
Wake up
Check on Mama
eat something
check on Mama
watch Hallmark or Food Channel
help Mama off her potty
cry and stress over Mama
drink tea
check on Mama
I guess you get the picture. She fell Sunday and ended up in the ER. She wasn't able to go to my brother's for Thanksgiving. I don't think I'm ready for this.

Wow...now I'm a real teacher...

Well...today I walked into a vandalized classroom. That classroom was mine. I've been egged (2x) and now spraypainted and books trashed. It's frustrating. It hurt my feelings. But, I'll go back tomorrow, smile, and tell them welcome back (Today was a teacher workday.)

Hopefully some of the things I do make an impact. Things like turning the other cheek when you really want to punch someone. I try wholeheartedly to practice what I preach---especially in front of my kids (both personal and school.) I've always believed in justice, that good things happen to good people. But as I get older, who knows anymore. I'll add the little angels to my prayers tonight and have a better day tomorrow. Good night.

Teaching, Talking and Teenagers...oh my

This is such an interesting week at my school. It's homecoming and apparently the kids think it's vacation time. They're wild and crazy! Me, I'm just CrAzY. Here are the pictures of the flowers I've always called fire flowers. Being able to come home and see things like this make it all better! There's also a pic of Mama's persimmon tree. The only thing I know to do with them is make persimmon bread. Any other suggestions?

The demon seed---Golden Rainshower trees

They are the bane of my existence. As you see, they grow anywhere and they LOVE my rain gutters. These pics are from my yard and Mama's. The biggest(the full shot) tree is the one in her yard that started it all. It was beautiful outside this morning. The air was a little cooler and there was a light fog. Ah, fall in Florida. More outdoor pics from this morning to follow.

I hate Golden Rainshower trees. But I love these guys.

I have a love-hate relationship with these trees. They are beautiful. They are stunning actually. But they spread like bunnies on steroids. On our block, there are probably 10 to 20 of these things. There are about 5 houses on the block. What's important to understand is that these are all the spawn of one tree in my mom's yard. I've lived in this same location for 30+ years, so I know they weren't here from the get-go. They are all the things I hate about plants---the ones I want to grow, won't. The ones I wish would die a slow painful death, thrive! SO, I was going to show pics of these trees and was side tracked by a trip to WalMart. It was dark when I got home so I'll try to get them in the morning.

My husband and I are alone at home. That's happening more and more these days. As we drove up to our son's soccer game that same thought hit me again. What will we do when there are no more soccer games to attend? No more papers to proof read? No more last minute permission slips to sign, not to mention the "oh, I have to have $10,20, 100 for this" requests. I'm not sure I'm going to be a good "empty nester." Then I worry I will REALLY turn into my mom, calling them 50 times a day to tell them there's a new place on my arm and I think it's cancer and should I have it looked at??? Sheesh, what comes around goes around. Why is it that when you really WANTED all that alone time with your mate there was none to be found? But, now, when you're 40 and you'd likely rather sleep than participate in any other nighttime festivities, there's all the time in the world? Youth really is wasted on the young.

Well, the school week ended without incident. It isn't easy being old and starting a new career no matter how much you know it's where you're supposed to be. I am glad it's the weekend. Now my problem is I want to accomplish too many things and have too little time. I am going to rest. I am going to cook. That much is for sure. Everything else is on a wait and see basis.

Lazy Sunday

Here I sit. Sunday evening. I know this because 60 Minutes is on. I've cooked two meals---biscuits and gravy, chili---and done little else.

I went to bed last night with big plans for the day. Those would be the same plans I had Friday afternoon when I left school, I would set my room up for fall and my lesson plan book would be perfection for the balance of the year. Left school with a pile of ungraded tests and a headache to beat the band.

This past week has been extremely stressful. Too many IEPs and 504s and referrals and lesson plans turned in to be "graded" by the administration. I'm overwhelmed. This week holds a meeting for my own child...one I'm not looking forward to. He struggles with math just like me. I had a teacher in high school, the same school he attends but not the same teacher, who said in front of the class that I would "never cut the mustard in math." That quashed any math hopes for success I had. Well, my son has a teacher who was in the military. Belief in order and black and white. My son is a very liberal arts kind of kid and she is not. So there is the first conflict. Then there's his own stubbornness. He doesn't want to do the work. There are consequences: loss of guitar, drums, best bud...not to mention loss of GPA. My husband and I don't really see eye to eye on this one. He has a math-type personality and can't imagine why this is so hard. I know from personal experience why it's hard. I feel the fear my son feels---25 years later. So, it's off to the school to figure out how to help. Fingers crossed that I approach the meeting more as a teacher and not so much as a Mom!


On a happier note, hubby dragged the fall decor down from the attic. This makes me a very, very happy person! I love fall. I love football season. It is the only season I wish I lived somewhere other than Florida. So, I try to bring some of the glorious fall color into my home since I don't get to see it outside, well, except for about 15 minutes in November. Down goes the thermostat and out come the blankets...a girl can dream!

I have lesson plans to write. There are reading and writing skills to teach. There are kids who feel about English as I did about Math. Things happen for a reason, huh?

Imagination---more important than knowledge.

I am not one to do things the normal, easy way. I have taken a lot longer to get to where I am than the average person. *sigh* But, the best part is, I'm here. I made it and I get to wake up every day and go live a dream. That makes life something fun. It also makes me thankful that God is God and I am not.

I have lived in Florida all my life. My parents moved down here from Tennessee a few months before I was born. I am the youngest of four kids. I'm the only native Floridian...Becoming a rare breed these days. Everyone else was born at the US Naval Academy in Annapolis. I am thankful for those days my Daddy spent in Annapolis(and everywhere else) because it paid a lot of bills and still provides for my Mama today. I love my life in rural Florida. I can't imagine living or raising my family anywhere else. It has given me roots that bring me a great deal of peace. I love Florida...but I anguish over the loss of the real Florida. Each trip I take to my MIL's house near Orlando, my family gets to hear the same agonizing sigh from me. It breaks my heart to see the beautiful orange groves being sliced down making way for cookie cutter houses. I think sometimes I should have been alive a long time ago.

So, I start this blog on a hopeful note. Writing makes me feel better. I love the sound of the keys on the laptop and the look of the words on a page. I hope I will have something to say that makes people taking the time to read these words imagine what life can be regardless of what it is at the time. Albert Einstein's words grace the wall of my classroom, "Imagination is more important than knowledge." I couldn't agree more.