#sol23 February 28 SOL Eve

 

"Do it," 

The little voice in my head said.

"It's a lot of work, don't do it,"

The little voice on the other side said. 

"I'll do it if it snows before March 1st,"

I negotiated with the two sides.

So, 

With a bit of trepidation,

With arms tired from shoveling,

In spite of 12 years of experience,

In spite of assured reflection,

In spite of the power of daily writing,

I'm going to keep today's post short,

Saving my slices of life 

For the next 31 days! 

#sol23 February 6 That Good Game

The memories of that February 6 and the days just before it are still clear.

It was snowing and part of me knew I should head home, but I stopped by his house one last time, instead.

I was clearly not ready for that last game. I could have beaten him, for the first time since he was 14, but I didn't.  I assured him, "Good game," even if his focus was elsewhere

He was clearly not ready to end the night, even though he couldn't finish the Scrabble game. He assured me, as we headed to his bed, "Good game."  I have wondered if he knew it would be our last? 

I was not ready for the call, hours later, as ELA scoring day was ready to begin.  Yet, on some level, I had worried about the timing of these two inevitable events all week.

My parents were clearly not ready for the call, even if they knew it was coming.  How could they be?

I was not ready for the cold response of my then administrator who assured me I was being "selfish and childish" even though I somehow guided my group, quickly and efficiently through scoring.  I knew what was ahead that day - it was not a game.

I've played Scrabble only a handful of times since that day; but, I will always remember that last game.  It really was, in retrospect, a good game - or at least a game to remember..