31 of 31: Thank You...

THANK YOU...

On this final day of slicing, I'm modeling my post after a post one of my students wrote:

First, I'd like to thank my mom and my sisters.

Without you and your nagging and texts and comments and encouragement, I'd have never been able to meet this challenge.

clap*clap*clap

Next, I'd like to thank the Two Writing Teachers for hosting and organizing such a fabulous challenge.

clap*clap*clap*

I can't forget my awesome teaching partner who talked me into this challenge for the first time last year and who continued to encourage me to write again this year.

clap*clap*clap*

And before my time runs out and they kick me off this stage, I absolutely cannot forget to sincerely thank all my students who wrote alongside me this month. It was an unbelievable pleasure to read your slices and to know that you were right there with me.

Standing ovation

And mic drop! Think dramatic stage exit in a really stellar dress.

30 of 31: Out My Window

Out My Window

I know it's spring 

When the tree out my classroom window 

Begins to sing.

My drive this morning

An ominously large moon hovered in my rearview mirror

Perhaps a silent warning.

Dark skies hid the day's weather

So I piddled and planned and made some copies

Hoping to avoid rain and gloom together.

Finally the sun peeked through

And I took a second to notice that out my window

There was such a glorious view.

White blooms against a backdrop of blue

Green buds giving way to spring's blossom 

What a wonderful, wonderful hue.

In honor of the sun shining for the first time in the last 12 days!

Hallelujah!

29 of 31: My Day in 6 Words

My Day in 6 Words

Waking: Hit snooze, rain drumming on roof.

Morning: Starbucks wasn't enough; needed second cup.

Lunch: Didn't eat much, student needed me.

Afternoon: Book club...lifted up by others.

Evening: Order carryout, pizza...again, secret gluttony.

Bedtime: Rain drumming on roof is hypnotizing.

Sleep: Tomorrow's Friday, student slicer breakfast awaits!

28 of 31: Eat-It-All

My sister's husband has night class on Wednesdays, so I usually try to stop by and hang out with her and my little nephew. Today was no exception. 

My nephew greeted me, "Hi Aunt Biz, play-doh." Strapped into his highchair, he was clad in a plastic long sleeve shirt. I couldn't help but briefly say hello to my sister (isn't that always the way...ignore the adults in favor of the adorable crazy-haired toddler) and head straight over to my nephew, whom I affectionately refer to as Bug. In no time, he had me rolling balls of play-doh so that he could smash them with his tiny hands into pancakes. 

All too soon, his mama began singing the clean-up song. 

I cannot lie. I heartily chimed in at the chorus and did my part to help put the play-doh away and get going. You see my sister texted me earlier in the day asking if I wanted Chick-fil-a for dinner. 

This is not the first Wednesday we've taken Bug to Chick-fil-a. In fact, it might just be our new Wednesday night routine.

My nephew is surprisingly well behaved for a 22 month old. We sat down and he ate all his chicken nuggets and french fries. When his mama told him the french fries were all gone, he quickly proceeded to ask, "See? See?" as if he wasn't quite sure he believed his mama's story. 

Ever the friendly little guy, he said hello to the retired couple who sat down next to us. Before you know it, they had struck up a conversation, and the gentleman told my nephew that he was the train conductor at the zoo and that he hoped to see my little nephew at the zoo soon. Well, likity-split, his mama turned to Bug and asked him what a train conductor says. Without missing a beat, my sweet nephew responded emphatically, "All aboard!" We all cracked up.

Once we finished eating, and since this is not our first rodeo at Chick-fil-a, we traded the book that comes with a kid's meal for an ice cream cone with the cone on the side. Don't worry, he already had a copy of that book (have I mentioned we've been to Chick-fil-a before???). 

The highlight of my day was watching him eat a deconstructed ice-cream cone. It did not take him long to figure out how to spin the cone around in his hand as he took small bites from the top edge of the cone pausing every once in a while for a spoonful of ice-cream that immediately evoked his cherubic and hilarious brain-freeze face. Ice-cream is still a little too cold for him. 

As I sat across from him, I watched in awe as he negotiated his nibbles and suddenly realized the cone had the words, "Eat-It-All" stamped around the top. I'm not making that up. If you look closely, you might be able to make out T- ALL with the top bitten out of the ALL in the picture below. 

Heck yeah he ate it all, and I loved watching every minute of it!

27 of 31: That's What Brothers Are For!

That's what brothers are for!

I had big plans tonight. I was going to go to the gym, grade, and squeeze in a little personal reading time. This was going to be my night.

And then it rained and rained and rained. 

I have a basement that floods and four sweetgum trees in my yard that clog my gutters. If the gutters overflowed, a surge of water would appear underneath the drywall along the floorboards snaking its way to the drain in the unfinished part of my basement. 

So after a years of cleaning out the gutters every single weekend in the spring, I invested in gutter guards that cover the gutters allowing rain in but keeping gumballs and leaves out. They worked like a charm. I haven't cleaned gutters in over four years and couldn't be happier.

Well, I couldn't have been happier until a couple years ago when my driveway settled a bit where it met the garage and water once again found its way in and down. During a particularly hard rain, water would race down the gentle incline of my driveway and create a pool right in front of the garage. As water so often does, it would find its way under the garage door and somehow seep down the wall and into my basement once again.

So after two such leaks, I invested in a contractor who removed a section of my blacktop and replaced it with a grated channel and beautiful concrete so that the water would be funneled away from the house and thus solve all our spring leaks. I couldn't have been happier.

Well, I couldn't have been happier until I realized (too little, too late) that the grate covers would need to be unscrewed and removed in order to clean out the channel from time to time. When neglected for long enough, the leaves and grit accumulate to the point where a heavy rain would produce more water than the channel could handle. Did I mention it rained. All. Day. Today. And so water, inevitably ended up in the garage and back down in the basement, which was what I was greeted with tonight when I got home.

So I called my big brother, and he graciously offered to help me clean out my grate. He even let me borrow his industrial size Wet Dry Vacuum so that I could get as much water out of the area rug as possible before starting the fans. His only response to my request, "Of course. That's what brothers are for." 

Thank goodness for my big brother. And lesson learned: I no longer have to climb a ladder to clean out the gutters; I just have to squat down to do it!

26 of 31: I Almost Forgot

I Almost Forgot...

to slice today. In fact, if it wouldn't have been for my sister, who diligently reads my slices everyday, I would have completely missed today.

Thank goodness for sisters. 

As way of apology for the state of this slice and my forgetfulness, today was our first day back to school after a week off. Let's just say that it was a long day followed by a department meeting that ended at 4:35. I drove home in the rain, spoke to my other sister wishing her a happy birthday (thank goodness I didn't forget that), changed into workout clothes and headed to the gym.

I want to continue the workout routine that I reestablished over break. So I spent a grueling hour on the elliptical machine and treadmill, which almost made up for the number of M&Ms I've consumed from the enormous tub that Morgan purchased from Costco; it's so big, you could darn near bath in M&Ms. I've eaten more than anyone should in one sitting.

At any rate, I then met Morgan for a quick sushi dinner where we ate and discussed our plans for the week. I returned home and watched one Netflix show. I washed my face and was just retiring to bed to start a new book when I noticed the green flash of my phone indicating an unread text message. 

My sister texted wondering where the heck my slice was assuming I must have been writing it as she typed her text. 

Sadly, no, I was on my way to bed when you texted and had yet to slice. I'm too close to the end to miss a day, so that's what you get in this last minute, before-bed-post.

That being said, this slice is dedicated to my baby sister and ever faithful reader. I wouldn't have sliced today without you! 

25 of 31: Reverse To-Do List for Real

Reverse To-Do List for Real This Time

In honor of the Reverse To-Do List, which is the list of things I've already accomplished for the day, I feel much more prepared today than yesterday.

1. I made coffee and drank three cups.
2. I enjoyed watching CBS Sunday Morning.
3. I drove to my yoga studio and practiced yoga for 75 minutes.
4. I bought spices from Penzy's Spice Shop and picked up my free "Embrace Hope" pin.
5. I bought a purse and clutch that will work really nicely through this spring, summer, and fall and got 60% off then an additional 20% off of both. Who am I kidding? I'll probably carry the purse all year round like I have for the last 7 years. 
6. I drove home and proceeded to switch over purses. I had to decide what to keep in there and what to take out to lighten my load. 
7. I made myself lunch.
8. I took out the trash.
9. I washed the dishes by hand.
10. I swept the floor.
11. I mopped the kitchen floor.
12. I showered and cleaned out the hair trap in the drain without gagging, which is my least favorite chore in the whole wide world.
13. I completed my slice for the day and it's not even 3:00.

This does make me feel a bit better considering this is my last day of spring break and there are still a few items on my staycation to-do list that didn't get crossed off. 

Sometimes it does help though to sit back and recognize just how much you have done rather than wallowing in what you haven't!

24 of 31: Reverse To-Do List

Reverse To-Do List

A fellow slicer engineered the reverse to-do list. Rather than listing all the things that one must accomplish, she instead listed all the things she had done in a day, and it was quite impressive.

In honor of that slice, I wanted to imitate the format, but I couldn't have possibly picked a worse day.

You see, today, I was really, really, lazy. I'm embarrassed by the lack of items on my list, so I'm just going to call it a day and hope that maybe tomorrow will yield better results.

I could blame the rainy weather, gray skies, and chilly temperatures.

I could blame it on the fact that my spring break is rapidly coming to an end, and so I've lost all motivation.

I could blame it on the fact that I was home alone and so no one witnessed my sloth-like behavior.

But, I'll just own it. 

I was a couch potato.

23 of 31: Float Tank Friday

FLOAT TANK FRIDAY

So today is the last official day of my spring break, and I've been grounded the last three days. That's right...grounded.

You see, I've had electricians and inspectors at my house holding me captive for the last three days. I've actually been appreciative of the overcast rainy weather; otherwise, I might be a little more grumpy and less inclined to use funny electrical puns...get it...grounded as in how I was held captive in my own home until lights were connected and electrical boxes passed inspection having been properly "grounded".

At any rate, our very skilled and attentive electrician left the house today around 3, which left me just enough time to squeeze in the elliptical machine and treadmill at the gym before my 5:00PM float.

No, not rootbeer. I'm talking fully enclosed float tank. I am a full-fledged advocate of the float spa where you submerge yourself in a tank that looks like something straight out of Alien filled with hundreds of pounds of epsom salt along with gallons and gallons of water, which is what allows you to float.

I prefer lights out and no music. I appreciate floating while focusing on my breathing until I cannot tell where the water ends and my body begins, which is totally the point. It is like sensory deprivation. When you open your eyes it is equally as dark as when they are closed and you have a hard time discerning if you've been in there five minutes or five hours. If you are able, you can achieve a level of meditation that feels quite like sleep. In fact, I feel like I've fallen asleep before while floating on more than one occasion. But that isn't even the best effect, when you emerge after having relaxed your muscles during a 60 minute float, you feel more relaxed than the best massage I've ever had.

And I've had some excellent massages.

Don't get me started on the rainforest shower head you use before and after. It is the epitome of relaxation after being reborn out of a float tank, which is exactly what it feels like to open the tank lid into a dark room while it emits its eerie glow. Gingerly, you step out into the world and touch cold tile floor. It's the closest thing to birth an adult can experience. The air is cold, your senses are upside down, and it takes a minute to wash off the salt and return to yourself underneath a blissfully warm shower.

That being said, clearly, it was undeniably the best part of my day. 

If you haven't already, I'd suggest you try having your own Float Tank Friday! I'd have to also say, go at least twice to give it a fair chance. The first time is otherworldly, and the second time allows you to really figure out if it is something you'll like. 

Happy floating!

22 out of 31: Yay for Yin Yoga

Yay for Yin Yoga

At precisely noon, my yoga instructor asked us to breathe mindfully. Today's practice would focus on holding poses for 2-5 minutes, and we were to clear our minds and focus on our breath.

Feeling the mat beneath me and the slightly cool chill in the air, I started at my scalp and began relaxing the muscles in my face around my eyes and mouth. I felt my shoulders melt a bit more into the mat. I let my feet splay apart and focused on releasing the tension in my lower back and legs. Next, I placed my hand on my belly and focused on the rise and swell as I inhaled and then exhaled even more slowly. 

Before I knew it, I bowed and whispered, Namaste, but not before the instructor shared a parting quote. I'm paraphrasing here, but the gist was that in a life that moves so fast, it is sometimes energizing to just slow down, which is exactly what I did in each and every pose today.

I left feeling rejuvenated and energized and so very thankful that I could practice lunch yoga in the middle of the week.

Ain't spring break grand?

21 of 31: Out of the Mouths of Babes

Out of the Mouths of Babes

So I met some friends of mine for dinner tonight. This entailed one couple, their three kids, and another friend. It was the perfect venue. There was a free pinball machine and firepit at the restaurant, which afforded the kids ample entertainment as the adults visited and caught up on the goings on in each other's lives. 

We enjoyed pizza and wings and the kids definitely enjoyed having the run of the establishment. It wasn't until dessert that I fully understood the beauty and hilarity of little people.

No sooner had my friend's husband and I been discussing the funny things that kids say than their middle child (all of 7 years) looked over at his mother with full whipped cream goatee and said that he couldn't wait to be fat like his mommy. 

Now his mommy isn't fat. She isn't a waif, but she is nowhere in the realm of fat, yet her son managed to look at her and say that. I can't help but wonder what shaped his ideas about fat as I chuckled into my napkin so as not to encourage his diatribe. 

That's when I realized that babies have no idea of what they say as amusing as it may be, and that they absolutely have no understanding of the hurt feelings they may cause.

Yet out of the mouths of babes comes some of the most entertaining if not heart wrenching sentiments ever heard. 

20 of 31: A Perfect Day for Tea

A Perfect Day for Tea

So I hear that it is the first day of spring. Sadly, it is the second day of my spring break and the sun has yet to shine and the all day high is hovering right around 45, which is not quite high enough to warm the cockles of my heart...or toes...or finger tips...or nose! 

Since I am usually at work this time of day, the thermostat timer is set way low...like 61 degrees low. Which helps to explain the numbness in my extremities right about now. 

But which is also why my delight abounds as I type this very post. For just to the right of my laptop sits a steaming mug of English Breakfast tea. In fact, it is so hot, that I will probably complete this slice before being able to take another sip. I'm gazing longingly at the tendrils of steam that gently swirl above the mug out of the corner of my eye as I type. 

If you've been reading my slices, you might remember that Morgan gifted me my first teapot out of the blue and it arrived last night. A beautiful Zen Kettle made by Le Creuset. Its deep merlot colored base slowly lightens to a bright cherry top at the lid. It brings the right amount of vibrant color and zen to my kitchen as well as my heart. 

My kettle is easy to pour and sings its sweet whistle in a jiffy. And bonus, I don't have to worry about water exploding in the microwave anymore. In fact, I may very well donate the microwave and get some counter space back. Morgan's thoughtful gift boosted my mood tremendously.

I hate to cut today short, but really, my tea and a book are calling my name on this chilly, gray day!

19 of 31: The Wink

The Wink

Best Chick-fil-a lunch ever! My 22-month-old nephew, Wyatt, showed off his latest skill today when I met him and my sister Sarah for lunch. And though I may be biased, it was amazing. His little pink tongue poked out the side of his mouth (coincidentally the same side as his winking eye) and his tiny button nose scrunched up as he managed to close his right eye. Clearly his fine motor control required immense concentration and provided his mother and me with ample entertainment as we awaited our chicken nuggets to be delivered to our table. Once he knew he had one eye closed, his tongue momentarily disappeared back inside his mouth. Definitely a bit more pirate and conspiratorial in nature, this kid's wink will take him places!

18 of 31: Lucky

Lucky

I'm lucky because:

1. My sister made our mom's lasagna for family dinner tonight, and my family came together to break bread. I enjoyed a delightful time in spite of the fact that my 22-month-old nephew threw up all over me and his mama's new carpet! Yucky pukies...to quote him right after.
2. My amazing friends are more thoughtful than I could ever dream of being and thus inspire me to be better.
3. I have this entire week off work to rest, rejuvenate, and replenish my resolve to tackle all the items on my to-do list.
4. I can order books from Amazon whenever I want and they appear on my doorstep within days. That is ridiculous!
5. Morgan is currently putting dishes away and getting coffee ready for the morning. I count my blessings every day that I have such a committed and loving partner.
6. I have a home, my health, and Netflix.
7. The grass is finally turning green, which means winter is almost over!

17 of 31: Breakfast Pizza

Breakfast Pizza

In honor of the first Saturday of spring break, Morgan thought it might be nice to try a new breakfast place. He knows how much I enjoy brunch on the weekends!

So off to Letty Lou's Diner for breakfast on this fine St. Patrick's Day morning. Letty Lou's currently resides in our once favorite Mexican restaurant. It closed and Letty Lou's moved in. When we walked in, we could still see the remnants of the stucco walls and once brightly painted Mexican murals now replaced with typical diner decor including Route 66 and old soda signage.

I once read that when dining out, you should make your food selection and then immediately set the menu down to avoid "orderer's remorse" when your food finally arrives otherwise known as plate envy. You know how when everyone's food arrives and looks so much more delicious than the egg white omelet and fruit sitting in front of you. You totally regret not ordering the chicken and waffles!

Unfortunately, I have never been able to follow this sage advice. Instead, I pored over the menu as I sipped coffee smothered in fresh whipped cream. In fact, I had to politely ask our server for a few more minutes in order to make my decision...twice. 

Ultimately, I settled on the breakfast pizza. I'm a sucker for breakfast pizza. That being said, I was surprised when it arrived that I failed to remember that it was covered in gravy, which I usually don't care for. Much to Morgan's horror, I am not a biscuits and gravy kind of girl. But creamy sausage gravy peeked out from the golden edges of the pizza otherwise covered with scrambled eggs and pieces of crisp bacon intermixed with provolone and cheddar cheese. The crust was super crispy but not burnt. 

Unapologetically, I consumed half the pizza before even contemplating offering Morgan a bite. It was delicious, and now Morgan harbors the secret hope that I will come around to the biscuit and gravy idea eventually.

I cannot wait to return and try the breakfast quesadilla. 

16 of 31: Where's My WiFi?

Where's my WiFi?

It is my first day of spring break, and I was able to sleep in a bit, enjoy coffee in my comfy sweats that are usually reserved for lazy Sunday mornings, and finally watch the season four finale of The Blacklist all while I waited for my internet provider repair person to arrive somewhere between 9-10 AM. 

Said repair person arrived around 9:45 AM. I escorted him around the property to figure out how to get the new fiber WiFi line to the house. Apparently fiber is faster, more reliable, and cheaper. A win-win that will save money and allow me to watch Netflix with fewer glitches. 

Once he decided upon his plan of action, we walked back inside the house while making small talk. 

It was all my fault. 

I mentioned spring break. That led to questions, which led to answers, which led to over a two hour conversation in my kitchen. All the while no fiber moved any closer to my house. Though I found the conversation fascinating, I also found myself occasionally wondering how to politely end it. I hadn't yet brushed my teeth for pete's sake. I was not prepared for nor expecting a two hour and twelve minute conversation. 

That being said, I learned a lot by just listening. Almost as if it were a social science experiment. I had two simultaneous conversations. One with him and one with myself about the one I was having with him. I learned that I could be engaged in a conversation that I just couldn't talk my way out of.

Clearly, he needed to talk. Either that or he was scheming to ensure that I was his last appointment for the day!

As it stands, I'm typing right now because it is going to take him two hours outside getting the line to the house and then I'm not sure how long to get the line into the house, and I may be without my WiFi for a good long while.

15 of 31: My Spring Break Staycation To-Do List

My Spring Break To-Do List

• Buy St. Pat's t-shirts in honor of my Irish heritage...because isn't everyone Irish on St. Patrick's day?
• Read 92 8th grade memoirs. I love the reading and commenting...it's the "grading" I don't so much like!
• Take the pile of clothes that is overtaking my home office floor to the donation center.
• Buy new shower curtain rings that will not rust.
• Clean said rust off the shower curtain rod so that the shower curtain can be pulled closed without excruciating squealing of metal on rusty metal.
• Be home for the electrician to replace our entire home's breaker box. The last time it rained, I noticed water was leaking from said breaker box. Water + Electricity = Nothing Good.
• Be home for the Internet person to come and magically make it so that I can stream Netflix without interruption or glitches. *Bonus - first time in history that I'm getting an upgrade on my wireless service that will actually save me money! 
• Take advantage of my monthly float tank membership. Deprive all of my senses in a float tank for 75 minutes. No light, no music, and as little movement as possible results in more relaxation than a massage at the Four Seasons!
• Practice yoga at least 5 times.
• Walk 3+ miles at least 5 times.
• Finish the memory book that I started at my first ever writing retreat.  
• Start the other memory book that I thought I would have time to finish at my first ever writing retreat. Really? What was I thinking? This writing about a memory business takes an extraordinary amount of time for me!
• Clean my house. (This is actually going to be at the bottom of the list in reality, but sits a little higher on the list in theory.)
• Secret Summer Mission Preparation - don't bother asking...it's a secret, silly!
• Get an oil change.
• Reread To Kill a Mockingbird to prepare for my last unit of the year.
• Read all the other books that are haunting me from my nightstand...or at the very least the sequel to Scythe.
• Find a way to make Morgan feel appreciated since I just came home from a long night of parent-teacher conferences and he giddily told me he ordered me a present. He made me guess, and after a few hints, I figured out that he ordered me a teapot. I have wanted one for so very long, and he thought it would be just the right spring break gift so that I could make myself tea while I tackle my to-do list. Let's just say he set the bar pretty high as far as thoughtful, out-of-the-blue gifts go! 
• Visit the History Museum's Civil Rights exhibit. 
• Get some much needed sister time with my baby sister and her adorable toddler...preferably a little of both one-on-one. 
• Dinner with my B.S. Dinner Club (that stands for Bangers Society...as in Bangers and Mash...this is still a school appropriate blog folks).
• Have coffee with my Save The World Club, which is a group of extraordinary educators, social workers, interesting people whom I call friends. We now set monthly meetings to get together and catch up on the happenings in one another's lives since we all seem to be so busy that we have to schedule an outing a month in advance.
• Send my other sister a birthday present.
• Get a haircut...long overdue. 
• Did I mention sleep in...

Wait, who am I kidding??? Sleeping in isn't part of the program if I need to accomplish all these tasks in the next 10 days.

14 of 31: The Snooze Button

The Snooze Button

I like to play this little game with myself called How Many Times Can I Hit the Snooze Button Before I Panic? Perhaps you, too, have played this fun game.

This morning, I set an all time record. I hit the snooze button five times. But I not only hit the snooze button five times, I'm quite certain that I instantly fell deeply asleep during each blissful nine minute interlude. I'm not even sure that is biologically possible, but I certainly felt like I was waking for the first time every single time the alarm's peaceful naturescape (crickets chirping intermixed with a light rainfall that becomes more commanding the longer it takes to hit said snooze button) sounded. I could blame my late night due to parent-teacher conferences. I could blame the recent time change. I could blame the return of cooler temperatures. But when it comes down to it, I think I was just really, really comfortable. Right, either that or really, really tired.

It was a miracle I arrived to work only 10 minutes later than normal. Especially since I also stopped at Starbucks (like my heart wasn't already pounding having showered and dressed for school in record-setting fashion). Perhaps a little panic is just what I need to get me going in the morning. This has me now entertaining the notion of a new game...How Many Times Can I Hit the Snooze Button Before I Am Actually Late?

13 out of 31: Dishes

Dishes

I just stood on the kitchen gel mat in my socks and sweats and did the dishes. Now, I know what many of you are thinking. You're wondering if I put my bowls on the top rack or the bottom rack of the dishwasher. Well, the answer is neither. You see, I am the dishwasher. 

So there I stood on that gel mat that soothed my aching feet and reached down to grab another dirty glass. Scrubbing with my dish wand, which required no spells or magical incantations, bubbles and suds filled the glass until I held it under steaming hot water. The bubbles disappeared and I gently set the glass top down in the dish drying rack. Next, I gingerly picked up a white dinner plate. I carefully scrubbed in circles making sure to remove every last trace of the cheese nachos that had sat atop its surface only moments before. Rinsed it in hot water and stacked it against the back of the dish drying rack. It now stood sentry over the glasses and bowls. Next comes silverware. I always save the silverware for last, and I paid special attention to cleaning the tines of the forks and the serrated edges of the knives. Knives never go into the dish rack. They are dried immediately with a dish towel and returned to their knife block. 

It may sound crazy, but after a long day (field trip with 90+ 8th graders to the History Museum followed by four hours of Parent/Teacher Conferences), I love the hot soapy water and mindless routine of the dishes. I love the empty sink that stares back at me once the last dish is done and the sense of having accomplished something in such little time. I love dishpan hands. I love to rewind my day replaying the best moments. I love being reminded of my mother standing before the very same sink washing dishes. 

And now I've finally realized why she loved doing the dishes. She was able to steal away a few moments to herself where she knew her kids wouldn't bother her for fear of being made to swap places. Perhaps she, too, loved to wander in her mind and simply allow herself to be absorbed in a chore. Maybe she even loved her own dishpan hands.

So, yes, I just did the dishes and now I'm going to bed...where I very well might dream about a kitchen big enough to have a dishwasher that isn't me!

12 of 31: All I Have Is a Bandaid, and That Won't Fix a Broken Heart

All I have is a bandaid, and that won't fix a broken heart.

This is a line from one of my student's blogs. Feeling stuck and somewhat uninspired as a writer this evening, I turned to the wise words of my 8th graders. 
I read through some of my students' blogs to find inspiration:  

Some beautifully captured the prison of a classroom in the days preceding spring break (hopefully not my classroom, but one never knows).

Some took me back in time with a fun concert review of a Cure cover band.

Some reported soccer losses.

Some wrote about yesterday's snow as "synchronized silver soldiers."

Some captured their love of ice cream in just three words.

Some wrote about their love of math in more than three words. 

Some compared learning a new instrument to slow turtles.

Some complained of the time change and waking up in darkness (I totally get it).

Some described smelly moments. 

Some worried for their brother and whether or not he would pass his driving test. 

Some composed poems calling us to put down the pixels.

Some recited recipes and the silver lining in decaf sweet tea.

But it is, "All I have is a bandaid, and that won't fix my broken heart," that has continued to ping-pong around my head.

It's a sticky line for me today. 

Maybe because I, too, enjoyed a good cry with my sisters this weekend. Maybe because I instantly saw myself staring out the window as my big brother buried his Great Dane, Jake, when I was in high school. Never before had I seen him cry so hard. It shattered us all to watch him with that shovel knowing full well he'd never be able to bury that pain. 

Maybe that is the point. Maybe it isn't about hiding or burying the pain, but instead giving it a voice and letting the pain tell its own story. Maybe that is a reason we write.

At any rate, I'm so thankful for my student writers and all they inspire!

11 of 31: A Spring Haiku

A Spring Haiku

Fat flakes fall gently

Melting upon the green grass

Spring dons a white cloak

In honor of a snow filled Sunday in March.

10 of 31: The Last Page

The Last Page

There is just something profoundly pleasing about reading the last page of a book. Even if it is John Green's latest and my eyes are swollen, my nose is raw, and I now need to add Puffs Plus to my shopping list having just pulled the last tissue from the bottom of the box. 

Despite the emotional upheaval involved, I love the moment of finality when I fold a book closed for the last time. That moment when I linger between fiction and nonfiction, when I contemplate the ending and cling to the characters before gently dismissing them from my mind and returning to the nonfiction of my life.

And today, my nonfiction involved dusting, washing my coffee mug, vacuuming, and filing my taxes. 

It's no wonder I wanted to linger there in that last page for just a little bit longer.

9 of 31: High Fives & Foreheads

High Fives and Foreheads

It's the last Friday before spring break. Next week is a short week. Many of the students participating in the slice of life story challenge met in my room this morning before school for donuts and time to comment on each other's blogs. We had a writing boot camp in my eighth grade English classes today, and the kids really embraced trying out different hooks for the memoirs and reading them to each other for feedback (or at least they didn't revolt). I talked books with several students and enjoyed learning a little more about the types of readers they've grown into over the year. In short, it was a pretty neat day.

That being said, my stand out moment lasted all of 15 seconds (at the very most). I stood, Starbucks in hand, next to the door of my classroom simultaneously satisfying my hall duty responsibilities, my caffeine addiction, and my desire to greet students with a friendly smile and hello.  

And that's when I spotted him. He bounded down the hallway, earbuds in, bounce in his step, wearing an open smile that exuded what I can only assume was his absolute delight in the fact that Friday had finally arrived. 

We made eye contact and I waved him over. I asked if he finished his project for his presentation for his social studies last night. He nodded enthusiastically and so, of course, I held up my palm in the universal language of high fives so that we could celebrate. Without missing a beat he leaned in and connected his forehead with my palm. Not the usual high five, but an inventive, unique one that made me chuckle and shake me head...because it was just so him. 

So yes, high fives and foreheads. It's a thing. Or it's his thing at the very least, and he shared it with me.

Now, it's about 45 minutes after dismissal on a Friday, and I'm out of here! 

8 of 31: Coffee with an Old Friend

Coffee with an Old Friend

So I met with an old friend after work today. Wait that's not quite right. He's one of my oldest, best friends from college. And we met for coffee after work tonight. It had only been a few weeks since I'd last seen Jon, but that had been at dinner club. Dinner club is the joining of three couples at new, up and coming restaurants around the St. Louis area on a monthly basis. Conversation usually revolves around ordering different dishes and whether or not we have room for dessert. Last month, we even entertained the idea of a dinner club road trip...watch out, Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, we just might give you a run for your money. 

Yet this was the first time that Jon and I had the chance to chat on our own since last summer.

I forgot how much I appreciate his taste in movies. Though we usually vehemently disagree on what constitutes a "good" movie, as I tend to lean toward blockbuster comic book heroes and he usually gravitates towards Indy award-winning films, he actually saw Black Panther before me. When he asked me what I had thought of the movie tonight and I had to admit I hadn't yet seen it, I was reminded of just how well he knew me. We chuckled that this might be the first and only time in our 22-year-relationship that he saw such a film before I. That's how I know we're going to be friends forever. Well that and we both love to eat!

At any rate, we sipped our lattes and chatted about school, politics, relationships, and life. We sighed when our cups were empty and stood in line for another latte just so that we'd have the excuse to keep talking. I was jealous because his spring break just started and I had a long week of parent-teacher conferences to tackle before I could say the same.

It's funny how you can marvel over how much you've changed in twenty-two years, and yet appreciate just how much those long ago moments influenced the person you are right now. I hope that everyone has someone who has known them that long so that they have someone to remind them of just how far they've come. 

The other thing 22 years will remind you of is that you have a much harder time falling asleep after two lattes with all that caffeine!

Next time, I'll order decaffeinated.

7 of 31: Lowe's and Lights

Lowe's and Lights

Morgan and I, though somewhat reluctantly, agreed to knock out a mid-week errand since he'll be gone this weekend on a work trip and I have parent-teacher conferences two evenings next week. We decided to be proactive and head to Lowe's to pick up some light fixtures for the garage. We were armed only with the bit of wisdom our electrician imparted: make sure you get the LED kind.

I don't know if you've ever had the pleasure of visiting Lowe's or any such home improvement store, but I get clammy just walking through the automatic doors. Their swish is an indistinct whisper reminding me of my ignorance of all things related to home improvement. 

Don't get me wrong. I love my home. I just find myself overwhelmed when I walk into one of those stores. First of all, it takes me the better part of 20 minutes just to find the aisle I'm looking for. Then it takes no less than 40 minutes to scour brands and barcodes carefully reading boxes detailing what is included (occasionally leaning on Google for translations I can actually understand).

So, anyway, there we stood squinting up at a blindingly bright display of assorted shop lights. I shifted from foot to foot and my scowl deepened as I fought the urge to raise my hand to my forehead and shield my eyes. We almost mistakenly picked up a pull chain light fixture, which you plugged in rather than hardwired. Heaven help us. It was all so complex with lumens and measurements and watts. Oh my.

It all came down to this, we didn't want to conduct brain surgery in our garage, just light it up enough to locate our camping stove the night before a trip. I mean, how does any reasonably intelligent person discern whether a 24 inch light strip or 48 inch light strip is required to brighten those dark corners and low shelves in a two-car garage?  

When Morgan and I find ourselves in such perplexing situations, we look lovingly into each other's eyes, shrug our shoulders, and split the difference. And our strategy applies to most anything...we settle on the upper-middle priced brand. We figure it isn't the cheapest nor the most expensive. It's the Goldilocks theory that lands us just a bit right of the middle. What's more is that it usually works out. And with that, Morgan slipped two long, slender boxes off the shelf and hoisted them over his shoulder.

I'll be slicing again in about two weeks when the electrician makes it over. I'm sure we're missing something profound like the light switch we were supposed to buy to turn on said lights (duh), but you'll just have to wait for it.

6 of 31: If You Don't Like Killing and Death...Well This Post Is Not for You

"If you don't like killing and death...

well, this book might not be for you, so tune me out and just keep reading your personal reading book." That's how I started class today. 

If you think you can't hold the attention of eighth graders in the weeks leading up to spring break, start a book talk that way and see if you can't hear a pin drop as you continue to introduce the book.

Last night I finished, Scythe by Neal Shusterman, the title of which I embarrassingly mispronounced repeatedly throughout my book and while reading aloud a short excerpt in first hour. I would have continued to mispronounce the word in my next three classes had it not been for an astute and rather polite young man who came up to me and quietly approached me after my book talk to inform me that the 'c' was silent. I love that he didn't want to embarrass me in front of the class even though as soon as he pointed this out to me, I turned to the entire class and explained to everyone how to correctly pronounce "scythe" thus owning my own folly. They love catching their English teacher's goofs.

At any rate, this book is a futuristic, sci-fi thriller where "The cloud" has evolved into "the Thunderhead", an artificial intelligence, that has solved all of the world's problems: starvation, pollution and even death. As I gave a brief overview of the plot and the two main characters Rowan and Citra, I noticed even my most reluctant readers peeking out from beneath their hooded heads. That's when I knew I had them. Their usually sleepy, disinterested eyes followed my every word. Once I was finished reading the excerpt where Rowan first meets Scythe Faraday, hands flew into the air with questions and wonderings and requests to check out the book. 

At any rate, book talks are something I don't always make time for in my jam-packed 49 minute classes, and today really reminded me of their importance in creating an engaging community of readers. This is where I help kids get that just right book into their hands...especially those reluctant to pick up a book in the first place.

I guess sometimes you just have to give them a little death and gore at 8:35 in the morning.

5 of 31: Mother Nature Is a Hormonal Teenager. Good Thing I Have Brand New Windshield Wipers.

There's nothing better than brand new windshield wipers...

A student slicer from last year wrote a post about weather here in St. Louis, Missouri. This young writer stated that spring weather here in the Midwest was going through puberty. I found that line to be super sticky and so it has stuck with me.

Taking her idea one step further, I'd say that weather in Missouri is akin to a teenage, hormonal version of Mother Nature right after being dumped by cocky Father Time. In her emotional upheaval, she wreaks havoc on us innocent Midwestern bystanders. 

One day the sun is shining and I'm unpacking my shorts as the thermometer tops 60 degrees. The next? Well Mother Nature must have found an old Valentine's Day card promising eternal love or some other painful reminder of Father Time because the red line plummets down to the negatives with snow and ice...just like her frozen heart.

And today? It rained. All. Day. Long. She must have heard their song, "Time Is on My Side" by The Rolling Stones, on the radio early this morning or caught an advertisement for the movie, Twister, which was their favorite film. 

Gloomy gray clouds rolled across the sky with periods of quite heavy rain (the ugly face sort of crying) intermixed with a lighter sprinkle (sniffling and quiet weeping) all day long. 

But did I let it dampen my mood? Not a chance. Though I could empathize with young Mother Nature's first heartbreak (been there, done that), I secretly relished the rain today. You see, I couldn't wait to try out my newly installed windshield wipers. 

As I drove home, at last seeing clearly despite the deluge, I imagined sitting next to young Mother Nature wiping her tears away as gently as my windshield wipers cleared the rain. There is just something so satisfying about brand new windshield wipers quietly gliding across the windshield leaving zero streaks behind. 

I love new windshield wipers more than Mother Nature thought she loved Father Time. I just love them. Their rhythmic swipe. The moment of absolute clarity before raindrops blur the view only to be cleared away once again a few seconds later. The complete absence of the incessant squeal and drag of my old wipers, which grated my nerves worse than eighth graders who refuse to capitalize the personal pronoun "I" in their memoirs! 

So, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain. Perhaps it will help to thaw that frozen heart or at least heal it.

4 of 31: Writing Hangover

Day 2 of my first ever writing retreat (see yesterday's post if interested in reading more about that) at Toddhall Retreat Center in Columbia, IL.

I don't remember waking up. I felt more like a coffee maker switching on. I slept soundly one moment and then next, my brain percolated and began outlining possible blog posts before I even had time to register where I was and why my bed was so tiny. 

I didn't have my usual groggy, foggy, morning brain, which craved caffeine and required coffee before being able to fully function. Instead, stories spun around my mind occasionally bouncing off the backs of my eyes. At least, that's what it felt like, and I was annoyed. I normally awake around the time CBS Sunday Morning starts. But wait, there's no sun yet. That inky gray sky still lingered outside my window. I frantically tapped my Garmin to reveal the time: 5:03 am. CBS Sunday Morning wouldn't start for another three hours. Why the heck was I up? This was earlier than my alarm clock goes off on a work day for Pete's sake. 

Breakfast isn't until 8, and I went to bed a mere six hours ago. Why could I not calm my mind at this ridiculously early hour? I readjusted my sleep mask tugging it back down covering my eyes and rolled over pulling the covers tightly around me and feigned sleep.

Stop brain, stop. But it wouldn't. It continued oscillating between this very post and the writing project I started yesterday and worked on for the better part of nine hours. I tossed, I turned, I just couldn't manage to coax myself back to sleep.

I gave in and got up.

I guess this is what it feels like to have a writing hangover!

3 of 31: Geeking Out at My First EVER Writing Retreat

Geeking Out at My First EVER Writing Retreat!

I left my house a little after seven this morning and not without a touch of trepidation. You see, I committed myself to a two-day writing retreat and had no earthly idea what to expect. 

Here's the things I didn't know:

Where I was going.

Who else would be there.

What was expected of me.

What exactly I would write about.

Whether or not there would be reliable WiFi.

Whether I would have a single or double occupancy room.

The type of amenities I might enjoy at Toddhall Retreat Center.

Clearly an anxiety inducing number of unknowns.

Fast forward a little over twelve hours.

Here's what I now know:

Toddhall Retreat Center is in Columbia, IL (not to be confused with Columbia, MO home of the Mizzou Tigers) which was about a 40 minute drive from door to door. I enjoyed a lovely morning road trip alone in the car, coffee in one hand, steering wheel in the other. A blue sky and shining sun greeted me as I crossed the Mighty Mississippi River. I pulled off the highway and wound my way down a narrow drive shaded by a canopy of trees and was here before I knew it (thank you Google maps).

Ten amazing writers, poets, aspiring novelists, bloggers, paper writers, memory book makers, teachers (both retired and working), musicians, mothers, grandmothers, aunts, a father, and new-found friends gathered in the Thomas Cranmer Conference Room, an octagon-shaped space with twelve tall windows overlooking the 40+ acres of surrounding woods. All ten possessed a unique story and shared desire to work on a writing project of their own choosing.  

Nothing. Nothing was expected of me though I was invited to join two other writers to meet and discuss our writing. I was both inspired and humbled by the skill and vulnerability my two writing partners shared with me.

Early in the day, I harbored lofty aspirations of completing two, long overdue writing projects. I hoped to leave Sunday afternoon having written the narratives of two life-changing trips I enjoyed last summer while digitally arranging all my photos in conjunction with each story. I struggled to find my footing, but once again I was inspired by the first paragraph of the first page of J.K. Rowling's first book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and from there, my project took off. I've decided to write from a third person point of view, and after many hours of writing and revising, I'm hoping to be halfway finished with one of the memory books before checkout.

Go figure. WiFi here is stronger than that of the middle school where I teach. How can that be possible in the middle of the woods???

Everyone has his or her own room despite each room being equipped with two tiny beds that look to be better suited for someone the size of a house elf in Hogwarts.

There is a mini-fridge, microwave, coffee maker, fireplace, bathroom, and basement here in the Cranmer (is this evoking the image of Jerry Seinfeld's crazy-haired sidekick Kramer or is it just me?) Conference Room. My personal room boasts the two tiny beds mentioned above, a chest of three small drawers, a small table and nightstand sandwiched between the beds, and a full bathroom complete with towels and everything. There is no television, and I don't miss it even a little. The best amenity by far, however, is the company of the interesting, inspiring, and sincere people seated around me.

So yes, I'm geeking out right now at my first ever writing retreat. It's the best kind of sleepover surrounded by other nerdy word lovers! 

I'm so glad I found the courage to commit.

2 of 31: Farkle Fridays

Farkle Friday!

So I love Fridays. And not just for the obvious reasons.

I love Fridays because I managed to convince a group of my eighth grade students, who eat in my room regularly, to put down their phones one lunch a week and appease my love of games. 

I taught them to play Farkle. 

Farkle?

Yes Farkle. The irresistible game of probability and chance. It involves six dice and a score keeper. My lunch bunch was a quick study. There are the "regulars" who play every Friday, and we sometimes have guest players who join us just for a round or two. 

Here's what you might see if you walked into my room during lunch on any given Friday:

Three to six students sitting in a circle on the floor with me. 

Someone would be rolling the dice and Victoria would be egging on that player to roll again in hopes that they would Farkle. A Farkle is when a roll of the dice yields no scoring combination of numbers. 

Today, however, was Jilly's day. Victoria's razzing fell on deaf ears. Jilly rolled a rare three pairs for 1500 points, which put her well on her way to the 10,000 needed to be crowned Farkle champion. Jilly didn't stop there. This happened two turns in a row. 

Now, had I had the good fortune to roll three pairs, I would have picked up all six dice and continued to roll pushing my luck and tempting fate, but not Jilly. She quietly slid the dice over to Lillie adding the 1500 points to her already large lead. Jilly's learned the value of playing it safe. 

Occasionally, you might see me hitting the floor with fist clenched and looking up to the ceiling in mock anguish, crying out, "Farkle Friday" as my points vanish right before my eyes.

It doesn't pay to be greedy.

What you will most definitely see is smiles. All around the circle. We cheer each other on, tease, goad, and generally have a really good time. We've developed our own code of score keeping...Victoria loves when I say that's four hundy (meaning four hundred). 

I look forward to these Friday lunches more than these players know. 

Even when I lose!