That Same Old Place

A colleague is retiring next week after exactly 30 years of teaching in the district. Such mid-year departures have been more common over the last few years; in fact I've been to three such retirement  celebrations since last February.

Each one has been a delight, though. The end of the school year is hectic, and a retirement party often gets lost in all the good-byes: to kids, to colleagues moving on, to everyone for a couple months of well deserved R&R. And so these Thursday or Friday afternoon events have been lovely gatherings. Without as many competing activities, lots of staff members are able to put in an appearance, and in a sweet tribute to the service of those who are departing, lots of already-retired colleagues attend as well.

That was the case today when ten former teachers and another dozen who are working elsewhere in the system (including the acting superintendent) joined 50 or so of the current staff to wish our retiring co-worker well.

Having taught in this school since 1993, they were all familiar faces to me, and I was soundly hugged quite a few times. I leaned right into the joy of each, even though I am not a hugger, and I was glad I did.

"I'm seeing so many people I haven't seen in so long, I forgot I missed 'em!" I remarked to the guy next to me, who left our school 15 years ago for a job at the Ed Center. "Welcome back!"

Attention! Part 2

"How're you doing?" asked the teacher.

"Fine," the student shrugged. "Why?"

"Well, you know, your niece?" the teacher replied.

The students eyes widened. "Oh. I'm okay, but I don't want to talk about it."

"But your parents," the teacher continued, "how are they? I think the school should reach out to them."

"Oh, no," answered the student. "They're over it."

"But it was just Thursday," said the teacher, "what about the funeral?"

The student waved her hand. "We had that already."

I shook my head as my colleague repeated this conversation at lunch.

"I know she's probably lying, but part of me wonders, what if it's true?," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Which part?"

She laughed. "I guess the crazy gullible part."

Attention! Part 1

"The saddest thing happened," one of my colleagues said at lunch the other day. She went on to tell us about a student who was acting a little withdrawn. When she checked in with her, the girl said that the evening before, her 18-year-old sister's toddler had pulled a bookshelf over on herself and was killed in the accident. "She didn't want to talk about it," my colleague said, "but I sent her to the counselor, anyway."

"How awful!" another teacher said, and we all nodded grimly.

"She asked me not to contact her parents," the first teacher continued, "because they were just too upset. 'I've never seen my father cry before,' she said."

"Wait, what?" I said with a frown. "Am I terrible because I think it's a little fishy that she doesn't want us to contact her parents?" I paused. "And she was at school today?"

"Another girl on the other team lost her baby brother very suddenly, too," one of the other teachers said. "I think it was the day before yesterday, and she hasn't missed school at all."

"Two baby deaths in two days?" I raised my eyebrows.

"No!" the first teacher said. "Seriously? Do you guys really think she made it up?"

Threagle

How likely was it that I would see a bald eagle soaring over the congested route to Target, just a couple miles from home? I'd say not very, and yet there it was on Saturday circling lazily in the icy climes.

How likely was it that I would see a bald eagle on the way home from the outlet mall yesterday? Again, I'd say chances were slim, but there was our national bird perched proudly on a power tower right by the side of the interstate.

And I bet you'd think I might be a bit less surprised to see a bald eagle this morning soaring over the road that leads to the gym, but you would be wrong. I gasped and craned my neck, squinting into the thin January sun ready to pinch myself when I spotted that iconic white head and tail fan.

Three days and three eagles... what will fly by tomorrow?

Needs and Wants

I needed a desk lamp, and there was one I liked at IKEA, so off we went to the outlet mall.

I did not need a new duvet cover, a sock organizer, some cork trivets, AA batteries, a boot tray, another dog bed, a sweatshirt (on clearance!), or a long-sleeved t-shirt (also on clearance!), but I came home with them anyway.

Flea Bitten

The weather was cold and wet and it seemed like a good idea to get out of the house this afternoon and do something different. "There's a home show out at the Expo Center," I told Heidi, and off we went. The half hour in the car was pleasant enough: the weather had kept enough people home that the roads were not too bad, and we listened to our audiobook about starlings and Mozart

A cold, hard rain began to fall in earnest just as we pulled into the parking lot, and umbrellas up, we race-walked through freezing puddles to get inside. I guess I was expecting decorating showcases and ideas, but I had misread the purpose of the event; it was for home renovation and remodeling with a heavy, heavy presence of window, roofing, and siding people, many of whom jumped on us like hungry fleas.

There were also a few upscale mattress vendors, some homemade dips and bbq sauces, a couple of cooking presentations, and a mud mat demo that was very impressive, but after an hour we left empty-handed, except for the free tote bag we got for our wet umbrellas, which we actually paid for in the time it took to say no, no, no to the many services the booth was selling.

Oh, and there's that free window-replacement estimate this Wednesday evening. Our windows are 35 years old, after all.

Missing in Action

Back to work today after three days on caretaker duty, the effects of so much time out of school are beginning to show. “We thought you were dead this time,” a student said with not a trace of humor and despite the fact that I explained my absence before leaving on Monday.

And I don’t think it was my imagination that the students seemed a little needy around the assistant and co-teachers. “Thanks for the help,” one guy told me. “To be honest? I only asked you because Ms. G. was so busy, but you did a good job.”

And then there was one of the most oppositional kids of the year, the guy who refuses any assistance offered, deflecting with ridiculous antics. “Where’s G?” he asked about the other teacher, calling him by last name only.

“He’s in a meeting,” I told him right as the bell rang.

“Too bad!” he scoffed. “Maybe if he was here I could have gotten some real help.”