#sol23 March 31 That Last Day of School Feeling

 

At this finish line,

Feeling a little 

Empowered to write regularly, 

Proud that looked into my daily life

To find each post. 

Happy that I wrote every day,

Stronger in my ability

To reflect on my experiences.

Encouraged by comments,

Pleased to have commented more than ever.

Grateful for this amazing community,

The new Slicers with new-to-me stances

The overseas Slicers with amazing journeys

The old familiar Slicers, sharing their families,

Pets, children and even grandchildren,

Thankful for Two Writing Teachers for

Administrating this Challenge.

Wondering if I will do it again?

"Of course," I answer this morning!

I'm sad that it is over, yet

Celebrating the journey

In a last day of school sort of way.

#sol30 March 30 When Dreams Go

 

Greek salad sprinkled with Feta,

A delicious treat, lunch with leftovers.

It's been a long time

Yet, the oily, lemony taste was familiar

Those grape leaves memorable.

Conversation sprinkled with sadness,

A chance to catch up with life.

It's been a long time

Yet, the tone, tenor were familiar

Even if strained. 

Long drive with time to reflect,

Of days, weeks, years, lost time

A chance to think of dreams lost

Of lives altered,

Even if caring remains.

"Hold fast to your dreams,"

I wanted to scream to the passing car

As my leftover Greek salad 

Slid to the floor.

 Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go,

Life is a barren field.

#sol23 March 29 Is There a Message?

 

Traffic came to a complete stop 

As I entered the highway

I assumed an accident.

Wondered if I would be late

Wondered about frustrated drivers

Cars began moving, slowly

To avoid an injured deer

I assumed an accident

Wondered if it was my backyard deer,

Wondered about her fawn

Driving resumed with a vengeance

Thought about deer

Impacting my life and slices

Wondered if there was a message?

#sol23 March28 No, No, No, No, No!

 

This month, I am writing my thoughts

Based on real slices of my life and thought

With Two Writing Teachers  

I really do not want to write this slice. 

On a day when every nearby forsythia emerged from hibernation as if needed.  

On a day when the rain held off just long enough for outdoor recess and runs across the courtyard,  

On a day when worries and concerns were stacked vertically in order to find enough space.

On a day when a struggling economy and a shaky diplomacy infused our news.

On a day when the promise of spring was clear in the morning sky and the need for a light jacket.

On a day when some children were learning to read and others were learning to write.

On a day when politics and power attempted to be news.

There was yet another school under attack.

There were children who lost their lives, their future, their story.

There were educators who lost their lives, their future, their story.

I cannot and will not ever understand how anyone, anywhere could ever attack innocent children.

I cannot and will not ever understand how anyone, anywhere could ever attack educators.

I do not want to write this post.

I do not want to believe this has happened again.

In my head, I am screaming No, No, No, No.....

#sol23 March 27 Kiss Your Brain

 

"Kiss your brain," I said enthusiastically borrowing a powerful line from a teacher in Tarrytown, NY, I observed many, many years ago.  In reality, I should be paying royalties for that line that has encouraged a zillion or so readers! 

The reader continued to decode wall, ball, thing, shock with accuracy and confidence that I had not seen before. "Do more," the reader begged so I continued to build words song, long, bath, wish, shop, chip, shall, mall, lung...and the reader continued to read them!

"I didn't get any wrong. I really really read them, I did not guess," the reader smiled in that moment of understanding the power of really reading rather than guessing and hoping the task will end. 

"Kiss your brain," I smiled as the reader was already offering that reading brain a kiss!  I've experienced that moment of lift almost as many times as I have said, "Kiss your brain," but it never gets old.  This time, I had to wipe a few tears from my eyes.

"Good job brain," the reader offered without my prompt a few minutes later as we wrapped up a short story about an ant.  "I am going to read like this in school," the reader said with a confidence I had not seen before. 

I know the journey is not over as reading is the most complex processes we ask students to consider; however, I know the reader's brain has been kissed by a positive reading experience. You only need a few hundred of those kiss your brain moments to develop the confidence to try complex reading tasks with confidence.  

#sol23 March 26 This Journey

Tried to connect, secure, clarify plans,

That were about to change.

Heard about aches, pains, heartaches.

Shared thoughts, ideas, perspectives.

Real issues, real concerns.

Heard about problems, worries, procrastination.

Offered hopes, dreams, perspectives.

Problem solving, plans,

Felt empathy, caring, understanding. 

Watched the tide of real-life-problems

Slowing, without heading to sea.

Remembered, we are not alone,

On this often challenging journey.

#sol23 March 25 Fawn Gone

 

Yesterday, what appeared to be a newborn fawn, nestled in my Fairy Garden for the whole day.   A part of me wanted to get closer and make sure the fawn was Ok and the rest of me just wanted it to find a safe place away from cars and frankly my house. I really did not want my yard to become a nursery for other nearby, ready to deliver deer. As selfish as it sounds, part of me does not want deer to decimate my gardens. As night fell, he/she seemed to disappear into the landscape, but in my mind, he/she was still there.

I awoke several times during the night wondering if 1) the mother had returned; 2) the fawn was hungry/cold/upset; if the fawn had wandered into the dangerous nearby roads. Unless I went out into the cold rain, I really could not tell.  So, I laid in bed thinking about the (in my head) lonely, cold, and hungry fawn.  I wondered what I would do if the baby was still there in the morning - alone?  

Finally, after a fitful night, I headed into the cold rain before 5 AM in my jammies, hoping my neighbors were not yet awake.  My baby fawn was not there but a swarm of mixed emotions filled the empty space in my yard and in my heart.  Yes, there was even a little part of my heart that was sad.  

#sol23 March 24 The Day the Fawn Settled in My Fairy Garden

I had a totally different post planned for today's 

Two Writing Teacher's SOL Challenge.

Instead, I waited all day to share this real life

Slice of my Real Life...

I hope I can sleep, but I doubt it!

I took the recycling out as the sun was getting ready to rise to the horizon. I noticed the forsythia had started to bloom creating a wonderful yellow wall of wonder.  I noticed a few more daffodils had emerged in full glory.  All this made me smile.

THEN, I noticed the doe with her clearly newborn fawn nestled in my backyard in the area my grandchildren refer to as the Fairy Garden.  I tried to shoo them away to no avail.  Mother got up and walked away but came right back to her baby.  I tried to shoo them away, again, as I headed to the gym. Mother left for what I assumed was a few minutes.  I did not want them eating the daffodils that would be emerging soon. I did not want them to eat the buds that would soon be emerging!  But, realistically, they would most likely take up residence while I exercised,

I thought about this mother and child as I drove to the gym.  I thought about them as I sweated through Aqua-size (yes you can sweat in the water) and strength classes.  I thought about the fragility of their lives so close to the highway.  I thought about the challenge of their homelessness.  I wondered how this mother was providing for her clearly newborn fawn. I thought about that long ago traumatic to me movie, Bambi. I wondered about my own, clearly selfish desire, to force them to move on.  I wondered if they would still be there when I got home.  

The mom was not.  But, the fawn was still laying in the garden. I wondered if the mom had gone for food remembering the appetite of a nursing mom.  I wondered it the mom had wandered onto the highway not far away. 

Now, many many hours later, the fawn is still there and the mom is not. I am not sure I will be able to sleep.

SOL23 March 3 How Old is Old?

 

I've been thinking, of late,

"How old is old?"

The lady in the mirror

Looks more like my mother than me. 

The joints have more aches and pains.

Yet, I still feel like "me."

I still ache to travel,

To walk, to swim, to talk.

I still enjoy a bowl of mussels,

I still am passionate about reading

Writing still makes me think.

I was swimming laps, deep in thought

As my body moved slowly but surely down the lane,

Perhaps we are all on a journey

To learn, to be compassionate

To grow older from the time of our birth.

To embrace new experiences, with joy.

To endure new challenges, with confidence.

To grow older, with grace.

#sol23 March 22 Tea Tags

 

I've long enjoyed a cup (or two) of tea,
In the afternoon, after dinner,

Sharing pleasant moments

Comforting in hard times.

I've long had favorite teas,

Harney's Paris

Bigelow's I Love Lemon,

Stash Green Tea.

Yet, I've found lately

  A pot of Yogi tea,

Also shares a message

A chance to reflect

On life, living and learning.

Imagine if this was part of school cafeterias,

Office breakrooms, homeless shelters?

#sol23 March 21 Phonics

"Did you know that all those vowels make 2 sounds?" the reader asked the parents in a matter of fact way rather then bragging manner! "There's a and "a" like in apple and "o" and "o" line in octopus ," the reader shared as if the reader were an expert in the area of word decoding. 

 "There is also this thing called the magic e that most of the time changes things" the reader continued as if it was a public service announcement!  

I smiled as I listened to his empowerment despite the reader's reluctance. 

CEARLY,  the English language is NOT totally phonetic and there are exceptions to all of the "rules." Yet, an understanding of the "code" helps it to all make sense to students whose language, linguistic and visual memory differences impact reading.  I am sure of one thing: phonics empowers when added to sight words and loads or guided reading opportunities.

#sol23 March 20 The Alexia Game

 

"Alexia, can you play Track 1 song 1," one of the participants asked politely.

"Yes, Mame, track 1 song 1," Alexia repeated in a robotic voice. "And now all we have is bad blood, just bad blood...all we have is bad blood......" she (Alexia) crooned.

"Alexa, can you play Track 1 song 2," was the next request when the music stopped.

"Yes, Mame," Alexia responded again, robotically.  "Let it go, let it go........" played the requested song

In the old days, when we found ourselves on the interstate, we played I Spy With my Little Eye or the License Plate Game. In the days of the internet, when on the interstate, we play Alexia. 

I smiled thinking about the fictional TV series long ago (1962-63), The Jetsons, that somehow predicted how times would be a-changing!

#sol23 March 19 A Spot of Spring

 

I was feeling disgruntled as I left that money machine which was out of money, again. 

I sighed knowing I would need to go to another branch in another town, again. 

I turned the corner, feeling annoyed, when I say them, again. 

They were nestled in the still brown grass, harbingers of warmer weather, again. 

It was my first viewing of the season, but my heart skipped a beat, again. 

I wonder how they, who do not have calendars, know spring begins tomorrow, again?

#sol23 March 18 Dav Pilkey

"Dad and I are reading Dog Man. It is SO good. So funny. Do you have any Dog Man books?" he asked with an urgency that I needed to address.  Clearly, he knows I am the Meme with lots of books.

"I do not have any of Dav Pilkey's Dog Man or Captain Underpants books, but I am pretty sure I have the first book Dav Pilkey wrote when he was still a teenager!" I said not sure if I still had that book in my collection of books.

For many years, I have used Dav Pilkey's story of being a reluctant reader (diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD) who talked too much and spent way too much time in the hallway writing stories with my graduate students as a way of encouraging looking at the "gifts" are students bring that are often overlooked.  I had not shared it with students because there is discussion of guns and violence even though the book, published in 1987 is really about finding peace.

I showed up at his house the next day, with the book, making me the Meme with lots of books!  My kiddo looked at the book and noticed how the name was spelled the same but the writing was different!

For the record, Dav Pilkey wrote and published his first book in 1986 and it was an award winner in 1987.  He  spent a lot of his childhood in the hallway because he talked too much. He was in college at Kent State and his publisher was hawking it at the NYS reading conference in 1987/88. As a literacy specialist, I found it an inspiring story  It was signed and now lives with a Dog Man fan  That makes me very happy.

#sol23 March 17 A Slice of Lime

I walked past

A pile of corned beef,

Grateful I did not need to cook one!

Oranges (not so big ones) were 99 cents each!

Lemons (tiny ones) were 2 for $1.00

Grateful I did not urgently need them!

I put in my cart

Potatoes, beans, kale, and leeks, 

Necessary for a pot of soup

A bag full of limes, 12 for $1.00

Smiling 

Because it is St. Patrick's Day

I'm offering up

A slice of lime!

#sol23 March 16 Sound of Silence

 

Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers' Slice of Life Challenge

Sponsoring this platform or sharing

It took a while to fall asleep as the wind battered the windows and the heat attempted to keep my drafty, old house warm. When I did fall asleep, it was a snuggled under the covers, deep sleep, until I heard the sirens. There are often sirens on my block which is near fire and police stations; but, they usually are just a blip in my sleep.

It was different this time as they seemed to be stopping abruptly rather than fading softly into the night.  It was silent and I was tempted to go back to sleep, but for some unknown reason, I  reluctantly peeked out from under the covers into the dark room punctuated with flashing lights. 

I reluctantly shuffled to the window where everyone who was awake in my little borough seemed to have gathered around a very large branch that had succumbed to the wind taking ever wire it could find!  I watched the police vehicles block the road and the crowd of first responders gathering around the perimeter of the site for a while.  But, the cold seemed to penetrate the window and there was no one really moving or doing anything about the very large branch, bigger than most trees, laying silently in the middle of the road.

Clearly, there would be no electricity or internet for a while even though the wind was no longer rattling the windows and even the heaters appeared to be resting, silently.  As I pulled my covers over my head in my now silent room, I made a mental note to remember to send a donation to the many volunteer first responders who were keeping everyone safe.  Then, I began to settle into thoughts... (and a song)

How did these first responders find out about the blocked road? 

Were some of my neighbors awake at 3:30 in the morning reading or watching movies?
If a tree or a very large branch falls during the middle of a really windy night does it make a sound? 

"Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains within the sound of silence. 

#sol23 March 15 Sympathy

 

I'm participating in Two Writing Teachers' March Writing Challenge

Taking small moments of my daily life

And reflecting on what they mean in my life. 

I added two "Strength and Conditioning" classes to my weekly exercise routine. It's a bit of a challenge and I'm a bit sore, especially my shoulders. I hope there will be fewer push ups, today.

"If you want sympathy, look in the dictionary," she would say.

This afternoon and evening, I teach back to back classes. It's a long time to stand and "profess" and certainly, my students will be exhausted from the demands of report cards, a snowstorm, and the time changes the week. 

"If you want sympathy, look in the dictionary," she would say.

My front door won't lock unless I hoist it up from the bottom with a screwdriver. I thought it was just the cold weather that was making the lock's alignment "funky," but today it is warmer and the same thing is happening.  

"If you want sympathy, look in the dictionary," she would say.

Certainly, these are small, "first world kind of issues" that really don't even fit in the category of "problems."  They are the kind of "real life issues" that I might have moaned about to my mother back when I was much younger.    

Perhaps that is why her response to my first world issues pops into my head!

#sol23 March 14 "Pipe" Cleaners

"These are the pipe cleaner crafts my students made," she shared proudly on social media.  The creations were indeed beautiful and I can imagine the 5th graders having as much fun as my much younger grandchildren who craft pipe cleaners into bridges and string pipe cleaners with beads.

I smiled remembering a conversation with a grandchild about pipe cleaners not long ago. "How can these clean pipes," he asked clearly thinking of his own schema. It took me a moment to understand his very fair question!  

Well, I responded taking note of the name on the package, they are actually called chenille sticks, but long ago.....

"I get it," that is too hard to say, "so we call them a shorter name."

I was going to tell him about people smoking and cleaning pipes, in days long ago. I was going to tell him about how "old words" hang on even when they do not make sense.  I was going to tell him about about how words change over time. Then, I changed my mind as his explanation was just as good as mine. Someday, however, I may try to find that picture of my dad smoking a pipe.

Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers' SOL Writing Challenge for sponsoring this writing challenge and to MIF for a picture I grabbed from her site. 

 

#sol23 March 13 is One of Those Days

March 13th is one of those days, like 9-11, that mark life altering events in our lives. I had planned to be home to have stucco repair on my house. It was supposed to be unseasonably warm and I looked forward to some pruning and spring cleaning.

My house was quiet as my daughter in law and grandchildren had just returned home from a week long sleepover during floor refinishing at their house In a weird coincidence, other grandchildren's day care was closed due to staff illnesses.  I was excited to spend a day with them to bake Irish Soda Bread and make shamrocks.

Yet, I was feeling unsettled after a trip to IKEA where the store was empty and people were wearing masks. I was feeling uneasy after a weekend brunch where an Asian flu was a focus of discussion.  I resisted the urge to buy groceries as one might with a storm headed confident, that whatever was looming would be short and managed easily.  

That uneasy feeling intensified as the day came to a close and  discussion of working from home began. In the blink of an eye, schools and businesses closed while Zoom and Shipt became the focus of life. Daily drive-bys from UPS, Fed-Ex, USPS, and Peloton trucks marked the days after March 13th,  the last semi-normal day for a very long time. 

I have often wondered what I would have done that last day if I had known what lie ahead? 

#sol23 March 12 On the Same Train

Three backpacks, a huge rolling suitcase,

Tears welling in her eyes,

As she board the train, alone, 

I wondered where she was heading.

Why did she look so sad?

Two backpacks, two parents, 

Kids, snacks, water bottles,

Laughing, smiling, singing,

They boarded the train, together,

I wondered where they were heading?

One duffle bag, a coffee, 

He boarded the train quickly,

He stared out the window,

His uniform suggested

Where he was heading.

Our lives so different

Yet, on the same track,

For a moment.

 

#sol23 March 11 Friday

Friday opens, 

Post, respond to posts and emails.

Blackboard, Powerpoint,

Midterms, projects,

Aqua-exercise, Zumba, and Strength classes,

Coffee, more coffee, tea,

Interspersed with Zoom meetings,

Laundry, dishes and cleaning,

Friday night pizza.

18,000 steps and a few strokes

A really good book,

Rain rather than snow.

Friday closes,

Grateful, for a great day!

#sol23 March 10 My Waiting Place

As I walk around this "place" created in a corner of my living room, I keep thinking of the Waiting Place from Dr. Seuss's Oh the Places You Will Go. (In my rewrite, I didn't try to rhyme!)

My Waiting Place

Waiting for a book to read, 
or a note to write, 
or spring to come, 
or fairies to watch,  
or waiting to grow.

I'm letting it sit, waiting for kids.

#sol23 March 9 Words Matter

 

"Your Present Level of Performance Statements need to be phrased in a positive manner," I implored my graduate students as they wrote imaginary PLOP statements for their IEP project. "Parents and older students are going to be reading them and your words can hurt," I continued.

"But if a student never does any work, how can I make that positive?" someone asked, clearly perplexed by the task. 

"How about student comes to class on time and appears to begin assignments, but rarely completes an assignment as noted in his worklog from the past 3 weeks where 0 of 12 assignments were not completed," I suggested.

My student stared at me for a moment and then noted, "It's hard to turn a negative into a positive statement!  But I guess it keeps up the pretense of hoping things will change."

As my class returned to their small group tasks, I reflected on the exchange and also on the power of both written and spoken words to alter the course of careers and relationships.  

"Words matter," I reminded them at the end of class, "on IEPs, in books, and even when you send texts," I added as they left texting.  

#sol23 March 8 Aunt, Auntie

 

Cooked up by Brosch wrote about our roles in life and the POWER of and Aunt yesterday.  Her post sent me down a path of memories and reminded me of the power of that role.

When I married their Uncle, I became an instant Auntie to a gaggle of young nieces and nephews who accepted me reluctantly. I understood their hesitancy: I was an intruder.  Over time, I built relationships with each of them as an Auntie who listened, who cared, who loved, and who would bring lots and lots of "goodies" for holidays and camping trips! I am blessed to have had them in my life and I relish their journeys and their accomplishments.  

Not too long after I had forged those early fledgling relationships, I became an Aunt again when my sister delivered the first grandchild to my overjoyed parents.  I met that babe when she was a newborn on a Sunday morning in early March.  She was tiny and snuggly and one of the first newborns I ever held. Along with the brother and sisters who followed, I am blessed to have had them in my life and relish their journeys and their accomplishments.

For me, and for many other lucky families, there are also Aunties who build relationships and serve as role models and inspirations. I actually had an Auntie who shared my name and birthdate! 

An Aunt or an Auntie is blessed by that love that transcends nuclear families.

#sol23 March 7 A Writer in Training and a Diplomat

My littles do not yet know

 Of my wanna-be writerly life,

They do not yet know 

Of my passion for literacy.

They do not yet know

I cherish every move 

Of their literacy journeys.

They do know 

I love to share books,

They do know 

I love to read to them,

They do know 

I love them to read to me,

First notes from one of my littles

To me, Meme,

 And to the other grandmother,

 Mom Mom.

Clearly, this is a writer-in-training

And, a diplomat as well

#sol23 March 6 Replaceable and Irreplaceable

 "We are all replaceable," Trish at Jumping off Wings wrote on the Opening Day of this March Writing Challenge. The idea has been reverberating through my mind, stirring up old memories.

"I'm telling you this is what we are going to do and if you don't like it," an administrator said again and again, "we can easily find a replacement coming down Route 9." 

"New technology will...eventually...replace it," proposed Steve Jobs , "but it's like people who had black-and-white TVs when color came out. They eventually decided whether or not the new technology was worth the investment."

I must, hesitantly, accept this to be true, in our professional and earnings lives.  It does seem that everyone, from Presidents to Principals and CEOs can be replaced with an underling or outsider at the press of a button. Even those who go in early and work late and miss their kids bedtimes and basketball games can find their jobs eliminated at the drop of a hat.  Those who put their lives at risk, those who do the essential but dirty jobs, and even those who make lots and lots of money can find themselves "cut" based on legislative, logistical or personnel decisions.  

Yet, there is one aspect of our lives where this does not seem to be true: our family life. There is no one waiting on the highway to replace our parents, spouses, children, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews....There is no way families can replace any one of us in their lives. Whether the loss is by death, drift, difficulties, or disagreements, the hole left in our families is deep and painful.  

I guess this suggests something about where we should put our limited energy?

#sol23 March 5 Sweet Sunshine

As you walk into the market where I go to get great fruits and vegetables, the first thing you see are the flowers. Lovely arrangements, beautiful bouquets, and small small stems. I always smiled as I walked past: but, I never bought them. 

It was a cold, damp, gray day when I stopped in front of a bunch of sunny yellow carnations. It was a should-have-been-special-anniversary kind of day and I was intent on "celebrating" with vegetable soup until those carnations captured me with the potential of happiness.  

The old Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand lament was playing in my head, "You don't bring me flowers, you don't sing me love songs," as I picked up a bunch and set it gingerly in the basket.

"Why buy yourself flowers," the rational, cheap part of my brain challenged me. "Why not?" I smiled as I changed directions and picked up asparagus and a couple of scallops. "Make your own happiness," I reminded myself as I added a piece of gourmet cheese and a package of fancy crackers,  I was smiling a little too much as I headed to the checkout. 

I must confess that in the weeks since that day when I was first a wee bit "naughty" at the grocery, those smiling carnations have found their way into my cart again and again. The song has changed, however, to something like, "These will make me happy, these are my sweet sunshine."

#sol23 March 4 The Perfect Job

 

"Let's get the show on the road," she shouted, gleaming with excitement. "I'm so excited to be here," she continued as we slowly acclimated to the pool in the early morning, "I can't wait to know you, but get in that pool so we can get started."

There were the usual, early morning conversations about children, golf, trips, among people who frequent the class regularly. 

"Get those knees higher.....Make bigger waves.....Jump with power.....,"she shouted as she stood at the edge of the pool jumping in a manner that defied her gray manes.

"Keep going, forty-five seconds....you can do it....look at you moving...great job," she praised excitedly and with a passion that made her look like she was coaching on the sidelines of the Super Bowl.

"We're gonna have fun, fun, fun till our daddy takes the POOL away," she crooned over the music as she jumped, I think, two feet off the edge of the pool.

As we headed out of the pool after a fast, fun, wonderful even if grueling 55 minutes, someone whispered what many of us were thinking, "ADHD."

"Agreed," several whispered back.

"But," I added, "she has found the PERFECT JOB!"

#sol23 March 3 Excuses

 

Thanks to Two Writing Teachers, I am once again participating in

the March SOL Challenge to write about 

small moments for 31 days.

These days, I work with graduate students who are insanely busy teaching, mostly in their first, grueling year, while pursuing a Masters Degree. We have in person and Zoom classes as determined by the University.  

I know they are tired when drag themselves into class or log in after a long day. I know some/most hope I will not notice they did not read or prepare adequately for class.  I know some/most are hoping I will let them skate through the projects and will accept their excuses.  

Oh My Goodness, their excuses are both creative and amazing (so beyond the dog ate my homework kind of excuses)!!!!

"My watch died and I lost track of time."

"It is unfair to expect me to work when I was on vacation."

"I moved and my internet does not synch."

"My computer died."

"My dog was barking so I closed my video."

"I didn't think it was really due, yet."

"I just ran out of time."

"I was hot/tired/cold/celebrating."

"I couldn't find any examples online, except the ones you posted."

I wonder if they accept these excuses from their students or if they learned them from their students?

#sol23 March 2 Snow Days

 

Long ago, I would listen intently to the radio as the list of closures were read. Our local station would switch off readers as the list was long and frankly, it must have been a boring read!  I remember leaning into the radio as if being closer would make my wish come true! I also remember the snow day sponsor, Cream of Wheat, not my favorite; yet if it got me a coveted snow day filled with sledding and I love Lucy reruns, I would eat at least some of it. 

Later, I would lie in bed waiting for the snow chain calls that would inevitably arrive the moment I stepped into the shower! I would arrive at the phone leaving a trail of water behind me to make that follow up call while freezing in a too small towel.  As I excitedly dried off, the potential of a day to clean the refrigerator and closets loomed ahead as I used that early morning call to catch up with a friend and start coveted weekday muffins.

In the years when my commute was long and cell phones carried the message, I was often navigating messy roads and following snow plows when the text came.  I would try to find a place to turn around and make the long and often dangerous trip back home.  One time, I left at 6 and never made it back home until 3! What a "snow day".

These days, a snow day is very different! After the official text arrives, the draw of a disorganized closet and the potential to work on a quilt still looms. The desire for a pot of hot soup is real.  The memories of smiles and snow day victories are strong; however,  snowy days are just Zoom days, these days, for me!

I do realize that snow days are a #**^ for many parents throughout time and that I was lucky to enjoy snow days for so long. But, I will always remember the potential and joy of a that gift from Superintendents who had been up for hours struggling with the decision.

Yet, for all those students and teachers who still get snow days, I continue to wear my pajamas backwards and put a spoon under my pillow.  It's what I can do in thanks for or so many snow days, filled with potential. 

I'm participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge sponsored by Two Writing Teachers.  https://twowritingteachers.org/2023/03/02/day-2-of-the-march-solsc-sol23/