Yielding to Circumstances

Today is National Poem-in-your-pocket Day, an occasion I have enjoyed celebrating with my students for nearly 20 years. In that time, we have done some pretty amazing events, including recorded interviews, choral readings, and other performance opportunities. Mostly, though, we just give kids a chance to select a poem they love, write it down, carry it with them, and share it with others.

Our school moved to a block schedule in 2021, and as positive as it can be, it does put a crimp on our usual revels. Since I only see half of the students on any given day, I don't get to mark Poem-in-your-pocket Day with the classes that are not scheduled. Oh, we can celebrate it the next day, but the unity of having the whole sixth grade do the same fun poetry thing is lost, and I miss it.

But, in the spirit of doing the best we can with what we have, I just tell the kids on the off day that we are celebrating Orthodox Poem-in-your-pocket Day. They don't get it, but it amuses me.

Here's a poem for today:

The Milkweed
By Richard Wilbur 

Anonymous as cherubs 

over the crib of God 

white seeds are floating 

out of my burst pod. 

What power had I 

before I learned to yield? 

Shatter me, great wind: 

I shall possess the field.

Location is Key

We gathered in the library for what was billed as a brief staff meeting. It wasn't, but it was the first time our staff has met in the library since COVID. Up until now we have maintained the option of distance by meeting in the theater. 

Except? 

That's not really a meeting. 

Maybe it's my 30+ years in the building and the fact that we always met in the library, but being there made sitting on my ass at the end of an already long day listening to information I have heard a million times almost a pleasure.

Almost.

No Worries

Unlike many people, I have no fear of the dentist. Maybe it's because our mom took us every six months from the time we were very young, or maybe it's because I have never had any severe dental issues, or maybe it's both. 

At any rate, the current practice I patronize makes it a point to never shame you for any perceived dental hygiene failure, and they have much of the latest equipment, which makes even X-rays quick and painless. And so I arrived serenely for my semi-annual cleaning this afternoon and willingly followed Danny, my regular hygienist back to his cubicle. As always he gave me a quick precheck and warned me that he'd be using the water scaler. 

"Go ahead," I agreed, slipping on the protective shades and relaxing back into the chair. "It won't bother me."

"I always forget how chill you are," he replied, "because, believe me! Most people are very tense!" He laughed. "I think I'm an empath or something because they make me feel stressed."

I nodded sympathetically, unable to talk because of the suction tube in the corner of my mouth.

"I do notice a really calm energy whenever you are here, though," he continued. "It's a good way to finish my day!"

2020 Vision

It was a busy weekend full of family and fun, so I welcomed our teacher planning day this morning as a chance to finish some of the work I didn't even touch on Saturday and Sunday. At 7 am I set up on the dining room table, a throwback to COVID times when every day was spent working from home. Upstairs, Heidi did some laundry while she worked, and down here, of course, I made some sourdough in between stretches of planning and grading.

It was delightful.

Frances

We were shopping for Bill's birthday yesterday when we came upon a small shop at the foot of King Street in Old Town Alexandria called "Fat Face". The place turned out to be a brick and mortar location for a British "lifestyle brand" that is self-proclaimed to "reflect the happy, healthy lifestyle of our customers." Slogans aside, the place had some cool stuff, and a gift was procured. 

On the way back to our car, Courtney and Heidi and I bantered about the name of the shop, until my sister and I made the connection between Fat Face and a song my mom taught us when we were kids. The song was aimed at a classmate of hers that she and her friends considered to be condescending, mostly because her father was the mayor of their town. This girl also boasted about their summer home, which chapped my mom and her friends so much that they gave her the nickname Fat Face and sang mockingly about her behind her back.

It is a terrible ditty, bur my mother would laugh uproariously every time she belted it out it, and the three of us can sing it to this day, which we did this evening at Bill's party. Could there be any doubt who was there in spirit?

Get Over It

My brother is turning 60 and our little sister flew up from Atlanta so that we could all celebrate together. And the party started last night with takeout, games, and a lot of laughter. 

One of the old family stories we revisited was when about the time Bill and I ate the neighbor's strawberries. When she discovered the larceny, my mother sent the two of us, just 4 and 2 years old, next door to apologize, but we never made it. A little while later she found us crying on the tiny hill that separated our yards, and so she personally marched us over to confess our theft. I'm not sure who was more uncomfortable at that moment: me and Bill or Mrs. Huddleston.

Every year during April my students write parodies of the classic William Carlos Williams poem This is Just to Say, and having read 30 or so over the last week, my response to the tale of the stolen fruit was such:

This is just to say
I have eaten
the strawberries
that were
in your garden

and which
you were probably
saving
for shortcake

Forgive me
they were delicious
so warm
and so sweet

Circles

My classroom phone rang and reaching for the receiver I saw on the display that it was the principal. As I answered, I felt more curious than anything else, especially since she's called me perhaps twice in the 11 years we've worked together. 

"I'm looking at your intent to return form," she told me.

"and I wrote that I'm not sure," I finished for her.

"Right," she agreed. "I was hoping you might be a little more sure now?"

I took a sharp breath. The conversation was unexpected, and I felt put on the spot. "Um," I hedged.

"There is paperwork we have to do if you're not," she continued, "and I'm really hoping we won't have to do that paperwork!" 

"I'll be back," I said. 

"I'm so glad," she replied.

"I guess I just needed a personal invitation," I laughed awkwardly.

But after we hung up, rather than feeling relieved that the question of next year was settled, I had that sense of remorse that comes with choosing too quickly.

And, since my verbal agreement is not binding, I'm right back to where I was before the call.