Room with a View

AT 6:49 this morning I did not even have to lift my head from my pillow to behold a deep orange ring banding the horizon and the sun rising from the dark blue Chesapeake Bay. Within moments, the indigo dawn blanched to cerulean and all the red fire was drained from the sun, leaving that familiar yellow orb in a cold November morning sky, and I pulled the down comforter up around my chin and went back to sleep.

Flocking Together

In my opinion, the ideal vacation rental house has very few personal belongings in it. Beyond a well-stocked kitchen, there might be some books and a few other things to keep it from being as sterile as, say, a hotel room, but too many non-generic items makes it hard for a renter to feel at home. 

This weekend we have returned for the third time to a "magical bay-front home," which is a vacation rental managed by the owner. Although it would be difficult to live up to the eight page confirmation letter, it really is a lovely location, perched  atop Calvert Cliffs with a naturally commanding view of the Chesapeake Bay. In years past, we have spent our November Saturdays scouring the windy beach for fossils and sea glass, and we are looking forward to doing the same tomorrow.

The house itself is pretty nice, too, although it does have its quirks, especially in the decor department. Case in point? Over the years there has been a definite increase in the number of carved wooden birds. Two life-sized swans have been joined by several gulls and sandpipers, a couple of ducks and a few other miscellaneous avians. The fake birds are everywhere, and they easily outnumber the people, but the creepy blue-eyed sea captain lamp doesn't seem to mind at all.

Come to my Window

"I'm going lesbian with my NaNoWriMo!" So declared one of the eighth grade girls in our writing club today.

"No!" her friend advised. "Don't do that!"

"Why?" asked the first student.

"Because," answered her friend, "you should just go ahead with your planned plot, and then just slip the lesbian thing in. That way you can tell the story, but you won't alienate anybody."

Her friend seemed unconvinced.

Once I picked my jaw up off the floor, I marveled to myself at how much things have changed, not only in the 21 years I've been teaching, but more so even in the last 3 or 4. Not a single student thought that this conversation was anything but two writers talking about their craft.

Wow.

Siege Mentality

We got this message from our principal today, buried among her notes and reminders:

We are running low on paper. 120 cartons were ordered for the first 4-5 months of this school year. The next paper order will not be placed until mid-January. Please use copy paper very thoughtfully.

Such a shortage would be the first of its kind in my 21 years of teaching, which is as it should be, considering that we work in one of the wealthiest counties in the country. And while I would never condone wasting paper, I did bristle at the implication that there might not be enough to go around if we continue our thoughtless, educational ways. Shame on me for creating materials for my students.

Can you guess the first reaction of several people I know? They went and got a few reams to lock up in anticipation of hard times.

Get Out the Vote

In these times, when I remind myself each morning to strive to be patient, positive, present, and productive, it can be discouraging to consider the exercise of my civic right and duty only as an imperative to vote against a candidate.

But that is definitely why I hotfooted it down to the polls this afternoon. Don't disappoint me, Virginia.

Making the Hard Decisions

As I mentioned previously, my kitchen window has stayed open since early summer to provide us with a 6 X 30 connection with the world outside. Oh, I suppose if I was serious about my little nature portal I would have taken the screen out, too, but my commitment stopped short of letting bugs in.

31 degree air pouring in this morning made it a little nippy as I packed lunches, but I soldiered through despite my slightly stiff fingers on the knowledge that when the sun came out? It would get up to 49.

Maybe I was in a bit of denial; truly I like the window open.

Our house cleaner has a bit of a different sensibility. Over the 8 years she's been cleaning our house on Mondays, we've gotten a few subtle and not so subtle hints about the way she thinks things should be. For example, after she's been here, we can tell that the coffee table should be much closer to the couch, the dog's toy box should be closed, the cleaning supplies belong upstairs, the bath mat should go on the towel rack, and the tooth brushes? To the right of the sink, please.

Oh. And the kitchen window should be closed in cold weather.

Sigh.

Bossy

Read the Paris Review.

I mean it.