Back to School!

Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new school year.  Students don’t start until Thursday, but tomorrow and Wednesday we have staff and training days.

My favorite thing about tomorrow’s staff day?  The building is open for an hour in the afternoon so families can come in and kids can find their rooms, meet their new teachers.  This is the first time in six years that I have a class that’s completely new to second grade – no repeaters on my roster.  And only one is the younger sibling of a former student.  Lovely new batch!  I can’t wait to meet them all and get started.

I’m particularly excited to start the new school year because a coworker and I spent two days this summer developing a new writing curriculum.  It’s a true writer’s workshop format, which I’ve never been able to successfully implement before, mostly due to scheduling.  Plus, our old writing program didn’t lend itself well to the writer’s workshop format.  But I foresee great things in student literature if things work the way I hope.

I’m also implementing a version of the CAFE Method, not the full Daily 5 because I don’t have enough time in my reading block.  I guess it’s more of a Daily 3 or Daily 4 – three stations and one reading group for every student.  Fingers are crossed that it works.

So summer is over, but I’m ready to go back.  Positive thoughts!  Good things ahead!

Rekindling Old Friendships

I think it’s happened to all of us, to some degree.  We have these amazing friends in college, the people we do everything with, and we vow to stay BFFs forever.  And then we graduate, and after a few years, you’re really not in touch with them anymore.  And it’s sad, especially when you come across old pictures of your group hanging out in college, and you get all nostalgic for the “good old days.”

My two best friends in college were amazing people.  My very best friend and I met at our freshman orientation.  In fact, we were roommates for freshman orientation.  We didn’t live in the same dorm until our sophomore year, and then we roomed together junior and senior year – until she graduated a semester early and I moved home for student teaching during my last semester.  But we were joined at the hip.  Our other very best friend lived in the room next door to us in a single, and it was perfect.  We contemplated requesting that an adjoining door be cut in the wall between our rooms – we spent that much time going back and forth.  On Thursday nights, my roommate-best-friend and I would watch NBC (you know, back when “Friends” and “Will & Grace” were on?) until our next-door-neighbor-best-friend got home from art studio.  Then we would gather for an 11:00pm tea party and “ER.”

We were like the Three Musketeers.  Or Charlie’s Angels.  Or any other famous trio wherein you see two of them together and know the third can’t be far away.

After graduation, we did a really good job of staying in touch.  We lived within two hours of each other, for the most part, and there were lots of visits back and forth.  Still the Three Musketeers, just spread out.

But once we all finished grad school, things started to change.  We called each other less and less.  Fewer visits were made.  Eventually, my two best friends moved farther away, and for a couple years, we stopped contacting each other all together, except for sending birthday and Christmas cards to each other.

And I was beyond bummed out.

Oddly, it seems like the loss of contact with my two best friends sort of coincided with the decline of AOL Instant Messenger.  And to be perfectly honest, during that time, my contact with other friends from college really started to lag for about a year or so.

Not that I was friendless.  Not by any means.  During that year or so, my group of friends was made up of people I’d gone to high school with who had resettled in our hometown (yeah, I’ve never moved, even during college).  Most of them were even people I was friends with in high school.  Not the people I was best friends with in high school – strangely, that group dissolved sometime during college – except for one guy I’ve known since first grade.  I even had a new best friend – and she’s still my best friend.  These are the people I count on, and even though we’re all spread all over New York State, we call each other and all still manage to get together a couple times a year when everybody’s back in town.

But my college friends?  My very best college friends?

There are a lot of people who point out social media as something of a downfall in our society’s ability to communicate with each other – replacing face time with computer time.  But in this case, social media, Facebook in particular, totally saved my most valued college friendships.  Because everybody is on Facebook.   The college friends I’ve kept in touch with through Facebook aren’t people I see all the time. For the ones I’ve stayed closest to, it’s about three years on average for seeing each other.  There are a couple people I haven’t seen since graduation.  But thank God for Facebook!  We can still chat periodically.

But my two very best friends…  Well, I am admittedly not the best when it comes to keeping in contact with people.  And life gets busy.  People work.  We move.  We have families.  Priorities change.

I’m very sad to say that my very best friend who I roomed with for a year and a half in college has completely fallen off the map.  It didn’t even happen slowly.  All of a sudden, she just wasn’t there anymore.

Do I have you totally crushed, thinking of all the friends you’ve lost over the years?  Well, don’t worry, I’m about to cheer you up.

My other very best friend and I reconnected a bit on Facebook.  She had moved downstate after she finished her grad work, and both she and her husband worked in Manhattan.  Well, she’s back.

And by back I mean she and her husband have moved back here, in my hometown, our college town, after she accepted a teaching position at our alma mater.

*wild cheers and applause*

When she told me, I was speechless for a full five minutes.  So speechless, my brain would not form words so my fingers could type a message in response to her email.  One of my very best friends ever is moving back!  Visions of Thursday night tea parties flitted through my mind.  I knew it wouldn’t be exactly like college – impossible regardless, because we would still be missing a Musketeer.

We met yesterday for lunch, and it was fantastic.  We ended up “lunching” for two hours, and it was like we’d last seen each other maybe a month ago.  You know how when you get together with those really solid friends, even if you haven’t seen each other in ages, and it’s like you’ve never been apart?  Yeah, like that.

It’s a wonderful feeling to rekindle those old friendships.

Insomnia

It’s 1:06 am, Eastern standard time.  I wish I was sleeping.  But I’m not.  Probably because I slept for ten and a half hours last night.

I totally deserved it. I’ve spent the last four days preparing cookies and pies for a friend’s wedding, plus had to work two six-hour days doing professional development (looking at student test scores from last school year, analyzing gaps, getting a feel for my incoming class, and discussing the NYS Core Curriculum and upcoming student learning objectives training).

I have been making some small headway on my writing, though.  I’ve managed to do some revisions and editing on part one of the “magnum opus” and have a query letter I finally think I’m almost comfortable enough to send out.  Plus I’ve been puttering away on my chick lit novella, and have outlined a couple short story ideas.

Two weeks until school starts.  I can’t believe how fast the summer went by.

Love at First Sight

It’s official. I’ve fallen in love.

Some of you may be casting rather dubious glances at me right about now, likely thinking, “Isn’t she already supposed to be in love?”

And you’re right, because I’ve been in love for about five and a half years now, with my wonderful husband.  And despite understandable things which, him being a man, can irritate me at times, I am very much in love with him.

Stop gagging.  I’m done being a mush ball now.

I’m not talking about a person.  I’m talking about a place.  A city, in fact.  A beautiful city with charm, history, and a strange, almost “tingly” aura of…..

Home.

It’s like when people are house hunting, and they walk through the door of THE HOUSE.  They sort of look around, sigh, and feel like they’ve come home.

Over spring break, Aaron and I drove to Georgia, ostensibly to visit friends but we layered the trip with an array of historical and tourist stops because, hey, that’s how we roll.  Among the four different places we “stopped” on our trip (our two mid-drive overnights notwithstanding), we spent the most time in Savannah Georgia.

I don’t know how many of you have ever driven into Savannah before.  As we came over the I-17 bridge, the “Talmadge Memorial Bridge” which crosses over Hutchinson’s Island and a sparkling river loaded with shipping traffic, as it might have been 200 years ago, the city came into view.  It’s not a sprawling metropolis like Atlanta, with sky scrapers and overpasses.  No.  Even before you come down into the heart of the Historic District, you sense that this is a place where time has slowed down. It hasn’t stopped completely – but the pace is so slow it’s almost come to a reverent pause.

And then…. then you come suddenly into the midst of the Historic District.  Liberty Street is wide, with medians filled with green areas and live oaks hung with Spanish moss.  As you drive through into the heart of Old Savannah, you see new buildings mingling with the old – and by old I mean over 150 years old.  Buildings that saw the armies under Sherman take control in 1864, buildings that remember the horrible days of slavery, even some buildings recalling the growth spurts of a new nation in the early 19th century.

The city’s many squares remind you, in a quiet, polite way, to slow down and savor the sunshine, your morning coffee, the scent of blooming azaleas and rhododendron.  Fountains sparkle and soften the rumble of vehicle traffic. You walk past bakeries, restaurants, gift shops, homes.  It all calls out, “Come here.  Come home.”

I admit, I heard the call more than just a little bit.  I’m the sort of person who hears what places say to us.  I can walk onto a Civil War battlefield and feel the heaviness of what took place there. So when I say I heard Savannah welcoming me home, it’s exactly what I felt.

Ten years ago, my family took a trip to Charleston, South Carolina, and I fell a little in love with that city too.  But not like this.  Charleston is beautiful and has it’s own sense of history and beauty.  And maybe Savannah resonated with me so strongly because it shares many of the same traits as Charleston, which I already loved.  But I saw myself enjoying quiet afternoons in a shady Savannah square, with a book or a laptop, or just my sunglasses.  I saw possibilities – roads I could venture down.  And not just on vacation.

Maybe it was the weather – sunny, warm almost to hot, no rain to speak of.   It was the perfect introduction to Savannah.  I have no idea how I’d feel in the middle of a sweltering Georgia summer, or what I’d do if a hurricane targeted the south Georgia coast. My logic reminds me of termites, cockroaches, and other creepy crawlies prevalent in the south, which we have no issues with up here in New York.

But there are exterminators.  There is central air conditioning.  I can watch the Weather Channel.

I’m not an adventurous person by nature, so I’m not about to drop everything and move thousands of miles away based on two and a half days of awesome.

But I would be lying to say a seed hasn’t been planted….

A Picture of You

A Picture of You


I do not have a picture of you
So there are many things I wonder.
Are you sugar and spice
Or puppy dog tails?
How fine is your hair?
Is it dark or light?
Do you have my changeable hazel eyes,
Or his beautiful blues?
Does your smile mirror mine?
How tiny are your ears?
Did you get his dimples
Or my widow’s peak?
It’s silly, but I pray you have his nose,
Not mine.

I cannot have a picture of you,
But there are many things I know for sure.
You are a rosy-cheeked cherub.
You have ten perfect fingers
And ten perfect toes.
Your laughter rings with the joy of angels,
And your tears would wring my heart.
You would know my voice,
And his,
And would reach for us with your chubby arms
Because you know we love you.
When you sleep, you are a doll.
When you’re awake, you are all the things
We dreamed of.

There will be no picture of you,
Not today, nor throughout the years.
We will never know the things you’ll love,
The accomplishments you’ll reach.
Will you love music,
Or sports,
Or both?
When you color, do you think your work
Equal to that of Monet, Picasso, Van Gogh?
(And will you find our walls the perfect canvas?)
What shapes will you make
When you help me make biscottis?
How will your eyes sparkle
The first time you realize how beautiful
Our Christmas tree is?
Will you be afraid of Santa?
Are you as fond of sweets as I am?
You come by it honestly if you do –
Just ask your great-grampas.
What subjects will hook you in school?
Would you be bored when I drag you
To forts and battlefields,
Or will you find it as interesting as I do?
Will you help him plant tomatoes and beans
And flowers in the garden?
Will you want your own pair of binoculars
So you can watch the birds at the feeders with him?
He likes to fish – would you have wanted to learn?
Will you struggle for every passing grade
Or will you be at the top of your graduating class?
What ambitions will you hold?
Whatever you do, I would love you and be proud,
And always do my best to guide you.

The questions about things I know
And the things I’ll never know,
Would have been answered today
And every day after.
But I’ll never have a picture of you
Except the one in my heart.
But maybe that’s the truest picture
I could ever have of you.