Thanks, Universe

My stomach is still a bit tender, and so I headed to the grocery this evening for some frozen ravioli, the same kind my mom used to serve when we were kids. Back then I would have given anything to be able to eat those round little ricotta-filled pillows with nothing but butter and salt, but my mother insisted that we have it with the homemade meat sauce she had prepared. 

The ravioli themselves were precious, counted out before they hit the boiling water, so that each of us only got so many. I'm not sure if they were expensive, and that's why they were so strictly regulated? Maybe so, because they were a rare treat indeed; more often we would eat boxed vermicelli with our red or clam sauce.

Anyhow, my appetite is still not back to 100% from that lingering stomach bug, and sometime this afternoon it occurred to me that plain cheese ravioli might be a comfort to my unsettled stomach, so off I went with the intention to buy just as much as I wanted, and when I got there? They were half price! 

That's gotta be a good sign.

Stomach Bug: Day 3

When at last I felt well enough to tell about it, I had to laugh. 

"Were there any kids in the classroom when you barfed?" my brother asked.

"No, just Heidi," I told him, "and later she said, "Wow! You really don't know how to throw up do you? You didn't even bend your knees or pick up the trash can! No wonder it went all over the place!"

"Well," I shrugged, "it's not really a skill I hope to develop."

And for the record? I feel much better today.

Stomach Bug: Day 2

My stomach is still super queasy, but things could be worse. I'm on the couch with the dog, the TVs on, a merry fire burns brightly,  I have tea in my cup, and ice water by my side. 

In my entire teaching career there has only been one other time when I was too sick to go to school, so that's pretty fortunate, too. 

I'm sure it won't be too long until this is all just an unpleasant memory.

Broken Streak

 Folks, it's literally been over 30 years since the last time I threw up. Or rather, that was true until this afternoon when I booted all over my classroom.

It's just as unpleasant as I recalled.

Fortunately? I'm feeling just well enough to tell about it, so that's another streak that stays in tact.

Paradox

Our principal is fond of telling the students in our school that we are, "the best of the best, better than all the rest." She uses the catchphrase to motivate them to behave well, but to be honest? I've never much liked the comparative nature of it. Why do we have to be better than everyone?  Can't we all be good for its own sake? 

Whatever my personal objections, I've heard the expression for so long that it barely registers anymore. So the other morning when, in her last weekly message to students and staff before the winter break, she encouraged all of us to be reflective and humble as we approach the new year, I barely gave it a second thought. The same was not so of one of my homeroom students whose hand shot up immediately. 

"How can she expect us to be humble when we're the best of the best?" he asked. And although his question was more than a little snarky, I had to give him kudos for listening and thinking about the content.

Fortunately, he didn't expect an answer.

For Now

"What are you going to do when you retire?" a student asked me out of the blue today. "Travel the world? Or stay someplace cozy?'

No!" said the girl next to him. "You should move to Belize," she insisted in her musical accent. "It's beautiful there! I lived by the sea and sometimes I saw dolphins swimming right by."

"But really," repeated the first student. "Do you like to travel? Don't you want to see the world?"

"I do like to travel," I agreed, "and Belize sounds very nice. But are you saying I should retire?"

"Oh no!" said the girl. 

"Not for at least ten years," the first kid added. 

"You still look very young," the girl assured me.

"Thanks!" I said, "Why don't we all keep working, hmmm?"

Too Much Christmas

"I'm not putting up a single Christmas decoration this year!" a friend declared recently. "I'm so busy, the thought of it brings me no joy."

She sighed and then continued. "My fiance thinks I'll change my mind but he's wrong. Because you know what brings me joy?"

We shook our heads. "The thought of not doing it!"