Do You Know Why I Pulled You Over?

I remember the first time I ever got pulled over by a cop. It was like 30 years ago; I was in college and some friends and I were on our way from Hamilton, NY to Virginia Beach for the weekend. This was a spur of the moment trip-- we piled into my yellow VW Rabbit at 7 PM on Friday, and six hours later picked up another friend of mine in DC. The sun was rising over Hampton Roads and I could literally smell the salt water as I sped across the causeway leading from the tunnel. It was then I spied the flashing red lights in my rear view. My hands were trembling as I guided the car to the narrow shoulder. The other three people woke up when we stopped. My heart was pounding and there was a giant lump in my throat as I struggled to roll down the window to speak to the stern-faced trooper on the other side; I was in big trouble, and I knew it. 

Despite being 14 miles over the speed limit, I did not get a ticket that day. Perhaps there was something about a carful of kids who had driven all night to see the ocean that moved the officer to give me a warning instead. I thanked him and drove away.

Over the next few years, I wasn't quite as lucky, and I confess to receiving several speeding tickets. Lately, though, my streak has been pretty good. I've gone 25 years with just a single citation, and that one was six years ago, but when I blew past that cop in Pennsylvania doing 73 in a 55 zone this afternoon, I knew I was busted even before he turned on to the road. I moved to the right lane and waited for him to get behind me and turn on his lights. I glided to a stop on the side of the road, considerately rolling a little ways past the dead deer carcass. If he wanted to chide me, he was out of luck; there was no pounding heart, no sweaty palms, and certainly no tears. I gave the young man my documents, secure in the strength of my driving record. 

We listened to the radio and chatted while he sat in his cruiser and did his duty, and when he returned, it was not with a speeding ticket, but rather a lesser citation. I thanked him and drove away.

Things I've Learned this Week

There is a live Supreme Court of the United States blog.

The justices read their decisions in order of the majority opinion author's seniority, but the chief justice is always most senior.

Tomorrow might be a very big day.

Windows Down

Since we were on vacation, we decided to take the long road home yesterday (after the turtle incident). We avoided the traffic on I-81, opting instead for 50 miles on Skyline Drive. The temperature was 10 degrees cooler up there at the top of those blue ridges, and so we put our windows down and enjoyed the views. On a Sunday at 5 PM we practically had the parkway to ourselves. We knew the day would be long, and the golden light of the nearly midsummer's evening made everything glow as we rolled along with the wind in our hair.

Later, when we got down from the mountains, we kept the windows open, barreling along country roads, bracing for a bump. The warm air smelled like so many summer evenings spent at my Aunt Harriet's house when we were kids, and at last I felt like school was really out.

A Simple Thank-you Would Do

We kicked off our summer vacation today with a great road trip. My mom is in town and so the three of us headed 2 1/2 hours southwest to Staunton, VA, home of the famous "farm museum."

I had a hard time believing that it's been 15 years since my last visit, but finding that they had moved a whole farm house about a quarter mile away convinced me that all that time had indeed passed. Still, the place is fun and engaging, and visiting actual reconstructed houses from 17th century England and 18th century Germany, Ireland, and the Virginia frontier is still really cool, and so is the fact that they try to make them working farms-- raising crops and livestock, preparing food, and fashioning tools and clothing in the manner they would have been back then.

As memorable as the day was, it was on our way home, literally on the road out of the place that probably my most indelible memory was formed. A turtle was in the middle of the driveway as we headed out. "We should stop and move it," Heidi suggested, and I agreed. I pulled over and jogged back to the big painted slider. Sensing me, he pulled his head in and snapped the carapace closed. Undeterred, I grabbed him and stepped toward the grass. With that, he let out a huge stream of pee that ran down my leg and on to my shoe.

To my credit, I did not drop him. I deposited him gently on the bank of the pond he was probably heading toward before running back to the car hollering in total disgust.

Ummm? You're welcome, turtle.

The Twist

Morgan Freeman the villain? I did not see that coming.

Summer Brakes

And perhaps the weirdest thing about being a teacher is going from 60 to 0 in no time flat. The school year doesn't wind down; it screeches to a halt, leaving us leaning forward, seat belts locked and unable to breathe. What consumed us has vanished like a deer from our headlights.

It's going to take a minute to get our bearings and move on.

I'm a Believer

Back in April, when we were doing the poetry challenge, one of my students wrote a poem about summer vacation that kind of sums up what we were all looking forward to today, the last day of school for middle school kids:

I believe in the summer days and the joy that comes with them,
the feeling of happiness that spreads when the warm weather has finally come,
the sensation that you feel when the sun shines on your neck,
the freedom you get to do what you want when the summer comes,
and the laughs and smiles when people are having fun,
Sportsmanshp, Responsibility, Privilege.

But I don't believe in staring out the window while doing homework
and wishing that you could be playing outside.

I believe in having a good time with friends.
I believe in staying up late and sleeping in the next morning.
I believe in having no worries and no stresses in life.
Relaxation, Sleepover, Takeout.
And I believe in counting down the days until summer, 
when you can finally take a down day, 
when you are tired at the end even after a good long day of rest, 
when the days go by without notice, 
when you wake up and forget if it is Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday, 
and when your tongue is purple when you finish a grape popsicle.