Could Be

"Mahjong?" our dog walker commented when she came by today and spied the zipper tote on our bench. "You are really getting geared up for retirement, aren't you?" She shook her head. "First pickleball, now this!"

"This year really might be it for me," I told her. 

She gasped in mock horror and looked at Lucy.

"Enjoy every minute!" I teased her, "Come next September, I might be walking her myself."

"Not you!" she answered. "You are going to be so busy with your mahjong and your pickleball and your bridge club and your bowling and your who-know-what-else. You are going to need a dog walker when you retire more than ever!"

Are We on the Same Page?

Does anyone else think Ophelia is an amazing name for a slow-moving tropical storm that drowned the areas in its path with several inches of rain?

Does anyone else think two solid weekend days of wet gusts and drenching rain sucks, no matter how awesome the storm's name is?

Yeah, I thought so.

Merry Autumn Equinox

As we were out running a few errands on this blustery first day of fall, it was hardly surprising that we were drawn to the Halloween displays. As expected as our gravitation to those holiday iitems might be? There were a couple of surprises as we browsed the now somewhat seasonal merch. 

First, the choices were limited; many of the shelves were well-picked over. Obviously the stuff had been for sale for a while, and business was brisk.

The other unexpected turn of events occured when we rounded the corner to turn down the last aisle. There, twinkling from the shelves in the back of the store, was the first of the Christmas lights and decorations. 

And yet... How surprised were we, really?

Goo News

When she talks about enlightenment, my morning yoga and meditation teacher often says, "You have to go through the goo to get to the ru." She means learning to use the practice to stay centered no matter what life throws at you.

The last couple of days have provided plenty of goo to work through. Starting with several new instructional initiatives by the central ELA office, there has been a lot of work to do after my teaching day is through. My classes are larger this year, and I'm working with 2 new co-teachers who are also new to the building. Our administration has decided to cross-team special education and English language learners, which in my opinion weakens the safety net for some of our students who need the most support. Our counselor is new, and students keep getting added and moved around my classes, upsetting the dynamic I'm trying to build, as well as overloading four of my sections, while making one almost unproductively small. 

And finally, in his weekly email to staff, our superintendent off-handedly dropped the news that every single employee will be enrolled in a new insurance plan starting in January 2024. For me, the change is a nuisance, transferring prescriptions and checking to see if my doctors are still in-network, but for Heidi, it is overwhelmingly enormous. 

She has been with her HMO for 30 years, and has a health team in place to help her manage her type 1 diabetes. Now, she has to find and put together a new team and also manage the transfer of her prescriptions, insulin pump, continuous glucose monitor, and their supplies by the first of the year. There is no guarantee that her devices will be covered or supported by the new plan.

54% of employees of our school system and their families are in the same boat, including women expecting children, children with chronic health care issues, patients with surgeries scheduled after January 1, and those being treated for both severe and minor health issues. They will lose their doctors, their counselors, and other healthcare professionals.

The change has been in the works since January and was decided in July, and yet staff is just being notified of the done deal now. Now that's some goo.

Picture Day

"You know what I've noticed?" A colleague new to our building asked me this morning.

I tilted my head. "What?"

"The boys are waaaaaay more dressed up for picture day than the girls."

I looked around the classroom. Anecdotally, she was right. One boy wore a jacket, several had collared shirts, and many had product in their hair to keep the part razor sharp. But that turned out to be just one class. Later in the day, several girls showed up in dresses and cute outfits they do not usually wear to school. 

When I was in school, picture day was huge, and everyone came dressed up. In kindergarten, my mom gave me a home permanent to add some body to my fine blond hair. She combed and pinned it to perfection before sending me off. 

She was aghast when next she saw me. After a day of K, my outfit was askew and my hair a mess. "Is that what you looked like for your picture?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"How did you smile?" she said.

I showed her a toothless grimace that at least showed my dimple. She shook her head, knowing what the pictures we got back a few weeks later would show.

"I've worn this dress the last three years for picture day!" one of the students told me this morning.

I nodded with some admiration. "I read about a teacher once who wore the exact same sweater on picture day every year for 20 years," I told her. "I really wish I'd thought of that!"

"It's never too late," she advised me.

Oh, but it is! I thought. Even so, I shrugged agreeably and climbed the stairs to strike my pose.

Here's Your Hat, What's Your Hurry?

And so it begins...

Because our leader has a class scheduled in her classroom, our team meeting is in my room this year. The sun was shining through the window and the tables were neat and orderly when a younger colleague walked in for the meeting this afternoon. She paused and smiled. "When you retire?" she said to me. "I'm going to get this room!"

RGF

"You know what's tremendous about you?" a student asked me today. He was referring to the daily question which, this morning, related to my greeting "Let's make it a tremendous Tuesday, Writers!" The students were directed to find the definition of 'tremendous' in the *gasp* physical dictionaries on their tables, and then share something they found tremendous about themselves.

"What?" I asked in return.

"You have relaxed grumpy face,"  he informed me. 

I examined his face, appraising his intention and considering how close his description was to the sexist and ageist term "resting bitch face". 

"What does that mean?" I prompted.

His eyes shifted, and I suspected he did not mean to compliment me. "You know," he backpedaled, "you're so relaxed and calm all the time."

"How does the grumpy fit in?" I inquired.

"Uhhh," he stammered, "it doesn't?"

If he only knew.