My Calendar is Clear

My sub job went to the end of the day, so I decided to accept a former student's invitation to the basketball game. As usual, the game was late to start, and I was one of the few adults standing on the sideline by the bleachers for quite some time. 

Eventually, a new teacher I knew joined me, and we chatted as we waited for the clock on pregame warm-ups to tick down. As we got closer to the jumpball, she looked around to see who else of her colleagues was there. "Wow!" she shook her head. "Not a lot of staff here."

"More people will probably come when the game gets going," I predicted.

"There's only like four of us here," she said with a little dismay. "And you don't even work here full time."

"That's right!" I laughed. "Which is why I actually have time to come to the game!"

Courtesy of the Supermoon

The supermoon in Taurus this morning, the full Beaver Moon of November and the brightest of the year, is said to bring abundance and connection, and I found that there was something to that today as I shopped for a few things for Heidi's birthday on Friday. 

When I brought my selection to the register in the first store, I had a question about another item I wanted to purchase. Their website stated that it was available, but I hadn't been able to find it. Lucky for me, the guy working the register was the manager. He looked up the thing on his phone after I showed it to him on mine and then radioed back to the storeroom. When they didn't retrieve it after a few minutes, he excused himself to go help. A little while later, another employee returned with the manager's apology: they couldn't locate the item, but, for my patience and inconvenience, they wanted to give me half off the thing I was buying.

Good deal! 

I went to another store for the second thing, and found it there right away. In line, I pulled up the app and my shopper barcode. Again, I was checked out by a manager, and when I confessed to not being able to find my coupon, he found it for me and then gave me another ten bucks that I was close to earning. He also offered a special treatment to help maintain my purchase; it cost 8.99, but he gave me five dollars off my next purchase to offset it if I was willing to try it. 

I sure was! 

In the end, I spent two-thirds of what I might have, and I came away with an abundance of appreciation for my fellow humans and the random acts of kindness to which I had been fortunate to receive.

Zowie!

The young lady sitting at the table, talking to my bowling teammate, looked familiar. Still, out of context, it was hard to tell if I actually knew her or if she just resembled one of the kajillion young people I've known in my career. I listened to their conversation as I changed into my bowling shoes, and she sounded a lot like the sister of a girl I taught a couple of years ago. "Are you out of school for the election?" I asked her.

She nodded.

"Where do you go?" I said, and when she mentioned our neighborhood high school, I knew it had to be her. "I think I know you!" 

"I thought I knew you, too!" she laughed, "but I couldn't figure out what you would be doing here!"

"Me?" I responded. "What are you doing here?"

"That's my great-grandma," she pointed to one of the bowlers, "and those are my great-great aunts." She gestured to my teammate and her sister.

"That's nuts!" I replied, and I meant it on at least two levels-- not just being reminded of the community connections that people so often unknowingly share, but also the impressive improbability of having a great-granddaughter in high school and still bowling on a league.

Does It, Though?

"Uhhhh," I cocked my head at the eight grade boy eating breakfast at his desk a few feet from me, "what are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning up," he informed me.

"But you're wiping the desk with your pancake," I continued.

"There was syrup on it," he shrugged. "It works!"

My Natural Solar Day

"Enjoy your favorite day of the year!" my friend said as we wrapped up lunch on Friday and headed out to teach the last class of the week. She was referring to the end of Daylight Saving Time and the twenty-five-hour day that marks the annual return to realigning our clocks with the sun and our natural circadian rhythm.

"Oh, I will!" I assured her with a laugh, embracing the decades of razzing I have received from my colleagues for my passionate, outspoken preference for light in the morning over light in the afternoon.

And I did!

Fright Night

The carnage was not intentional. 

When we took our annual Halloween lights and decoration crawl with our neighbors last night, we were all looking forward to seeing the traditionally over-the-top display put on in a neighborhood just over the bridge. We chatted as we approached about where the folks who live in those condos might possibly keep all the decorations they put out. "I saw a trailer parked across the street last week," I reported, "and it looked like it was surrounded by pallets and boxes with Halloween imprints."

"That would explain it," my neighbor agreed, "I always thought--"

But before he could finish, we all stopped dead. The ground before us was littered with the remains of toppled ten-foot demons and ghouls. Everywhere we looked, we saw scattered skulls, bones and body parts, tattered robes, broken scythes, and other twisted wreckage left by the windstorm that had struck earlier in the day. We stood in stunned silence for a moment before continuing on toward the lights down the street.

Considering our dismay, I couldn't imagine how devastated the people who planned the display must have been, but later, when we told another neighbor about the disappointing turn of events, she saw an opportunity. "Too bad they didn't pivot and add spooky ground lights," she said. "It could have been even creepier than the original!"

Hold on to Your Cats

"Has Tibby put on weight?" our catsitter texted last weekend. "She seems heavier, but it might be I'm comparing her to the kittens."

"Or it could be because she is so large and in charge!" I replied with a laughing emoji because, to be honest, I think she's pretty much the same as ever.

Our former dogwalker agrees with me. She stopped by this afternoon, and as we visited, she sat in the rocking chair by the sliding doors leading to the deck. Tibby ran over and tried to convince her to open the doors and let her out into the blustery day. "No way, Tibby!" Sarah said, "You'll blow away out there!" She turned to me and sighed, "If we only had a functioning national weather service, I'm sure they would issue a small pet warning for today."