I'm sure I've probably posted this before, but here it is again. It's good. And when I say good, I mean good as in speaking of hard grace, hard-won forgiveness.
Cranky dripping Monday, Sitting in the back and wishing I could sleep. Getting in their faces because they can't either. It's too much, all this dripping. Better is a rooftop than a castle with a cranky woman; Better anywhere than a classroom of discontents. Nothing is blessing; it's all pushing. Labor and pain and pushing. The night endures forever and Where the heck is the morning? Attitude. She got an attitude already, Says fifth period. And I smile, To prove them wrong And to warn them with a sassy smirk of attitude. If I can hold out two, even three, hours; This too shall pass. But tomorrow is Tuesday And I hate Tuesdays.
Today was a day of Bob Dylan and coffee. I sat on my bed a lot and did a variety of things, none of which were rushed. I spent a long time before noon reading and praying with the blinds open and a cup of coffee. After lunch, I worked, made brussel sprouts, and drank another cup of coffee. The difference between a snow day and a Saturday is that a day like this is a bonus. You don't have to get everything done, whatever you do is just extra. And the feeling of getting ahead is, well, heady. And the extra rest feels like a blessing from heaven (which it is). And between the coffee and Bob Dylan you have a little time to process life, catch up on the flying whirlwind of it all. For me, I had to process The Fight. It was, by no means, a good fight or a dramatic fight or an intense fight. But it was the first in my classroom, and it shook me up. It lasted probably only 30 seconds or a minute and it was more of a butt whipping than a fight really. B had the upper hand, meaning the poo...
This is me. About to die. sunburned shoulders and peeling nose. rock wall climbing with straining harness, aching muscles. horse hair smooth under the wet, clinging dirt. purple bandanas and plastic sunglasses. fields of green and grey with hot hot sun. pine trees and sand, everywhere, sticking to my feet. swimming in chlorine, soft blue cooling hot skin. lifeguard buoys red, tough, and smooth. chaco blister. zing and smack of arrows from bows, my designated proficiency activity, the joyful yellow of the smallest circle on the target. camp cheers that give rhythm to walking, eating, talking. three kittens all grey cuddle and warm purr. the quiet splash of canoe paddles in dark lake water, where I feel most at home. thoughts of my father and the woods when fifty feet above ground on a wire, shuffling towards the zipline. new faces, new ideas, new backgrounds, new laughs, new perspectives, new people. Summer is here and real camp starts in two days with the arriva...
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