In Their Footsteps: Part 2

And that's how we found ourselves in the backseat of a pickup truck at the end of a caravan of vehicles down to the bottom of the quarry. The water in the quarry bottom was a gorgeous clear green. "The lab tests said it was cleaner than the city water," a guide told us, "and you can see to the bottom at thirty feet. But those waterfalls," he grinned and gestured to streams cascading down the quarry face, "are only turned on once a year for this event."

We had less than thirty minutes on the site, but the experience did not disappoint. Enthusiastic quarrymen, volunteers, and geologists were on hand to curate the experience and answer any questions we might have. Many tracks were circled in blue chalk, and the staff would cheerfully spray them with water for a better view. There were also informational signs on sandwich boards. 

Through it all, we were gently reminded that we were guests on private property and a mining company owned the fossils. There was no expectation of preservation, either. "Oh, these will be visible another fifteen years or so," a guy in a yellow vest and quarry t-shirt told us. "After that? They'll probably either be blasted for rock or underwater." 

In their Footsteps: Part 1

"So I read about this place in Culpeper," Heidi's early morning dog-walking pal started, "and they have the largest collection of dinosaur footprints in the country." What followed seemed like a tall tale, and when Heidi repeated the details to me, I couldn't believe that in the many decades I've lived in Virginia, I'd never heard of Luck Stone Quarry. 

On an early April morning in 1989, a crew was preparing to blast a new layer of the 70-year-old quarry. As they pumped water over the floor, a quarryman noticed that as it evaporated, the little puddles left behind were actually footprints. The layer was made up of siltstone, which is essentially hardened mud, and further examination turned up hundreds of Triassic-era dino prints.

Despite the discovery's paleontological significance, the quarry remains private property to this day, although some of the prints are on display in the Smithsonian, the local history museum, and the mini-mall down the road. Once a year, however, the owners open the property to visitors, but only those who win a spot in a lottery.

"And I won!" Heidi's friend said. I never win anything, but I can bring a carload of people to see the dinosaur prints on Saturday!"

Get a Life, Lady!

I spent a couple hours most days this week helping my teacher friends get some of their first-week-back chores done. I set up a printer, helped with some LMS courses, hung pictures and posters, answered questions, gave advice, suggested first-day activities and room layout, and put up a bulletin board. It seemed a shame to let this skill set I've built over 30 years go to waste, especially when I knew how busy and overwhelming the first week back can be. Plus, I did love every bit of teaching; it was just that all the bits put together became more time-consuming than I was willing to sustain.

As I pitched in, I was moved by the genuine appreciation of those I was helping. Collectively, we spun a fantasy where I would be on call to lend a hand whenever necessary. We imagined that I might set up an office in one of the hall storage closets so that I could offer support on-demand, including encouragement and advice. Maybe I would even have a sign that said, "The Teacher Task-Rabbit is In," and a can for nickels.

"Can you imagine, though?" I laughed. "The new sixth graders would ask, "Who is that lady in the closet, and why is she always here?" And worst of all? They would be right!"

Novice Blunders

On my first day of running errands as a retiree, I was surprised to find Wegmans full of seniors lunching and shopping. It was almost as crowded as a weekend but with a slower vibe. Then, on the way home, I was stuck in traffic for 30 minutes when I took a two-lane road that goes right by a high school. It was dismissal time, and the backup was phenomenal as student drivers, parents, staff, buses, and non-school traffic tried converging on the narrow road. We were also impeded by a light at the t-junction ahead, so traffic only inched along during the green.

I have filed the experience under live and learn. Still, as I piloted my cart around meandering shoppers and then again as I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, I did question whether this retirement situation is all it's cracked up to be.

And So It Goes

An unfamiliar number flashed on my screen this afternoon, and so I let the call go to voicemail.

Surprise!

The new fridge that was supposed to be delivered on September 2 has been delayed.

Fortunately, the old one is chugging along now that it's repaired, and the service company is on speed dial.

Preferred Pronouns

I went to school today to help Heidi set up her tech, unpack, and organize her stuff. We chatted as we worked, and I had to correct myself several times after referring to "our school," "my classroom," "my tables," or "my job." 

It's getting easier, though.

If It Is Broke

The refrigerator repairman came just when he said he would and texted a 20-minute warning as promised, too. He examined the old thing kindly, and his diagnosis was hopeful. For under 300 dollars, he could have everything fixed. It would be an hour today and a follow-up next Monday, but the fridge would be working when he left, and the ice maker would be working on Monday.

I hesitated for a moment. I needed it to work until the new one was delivered, and I didn't want to overpay. When I explained the situation to him, he gave me several options with estimates to go along with them. "It's a good machine," he commented. "They really don't make them like this anymore."

I considered my choices. What if we could keep this refrigerator from the junk heap for another few years or more? With a reliable repair company, it seemed very possible.

"Let's fix it all!" I said and crossed my fingers.