Fall Back

It is no longer a question of whether or not to wear a coat, but rather, which coat or jacket will suffice. Colored leaves obliterate the ground and clog drains, brown mum blossoms are frozen in time like Vesuvius victims, the furnace is kicking on with regular frequency, and my ice scraper has been put into active duty. The final assurance that autumn is in control and swiftly moving toward winter is the approach of Halloween and the end of Daylight Savings Time. Oddly enough, this year they both occur today.

Judging from last night and today’s balmy 50 degree temperature, we may experience a break in the usual inclement weather tradition of Halloween in my neck of the woods. In Eastern Oregon it is customary for children and their parents to have to trudge around the neighborhood in foul weather on Halloween night. The deceptive sunshine of a fall afternoon does not fool the natives. Our trick-or-treating children are well padded beneath their oversized costumes in layers of sweats and coats. Even fairy princesses wear snow boots and mittens. It isn’t Halloween if a little skeleton’s rain-sodden cardboard bones aren’t falling off or Superman, the scarecrow, and the princess don’t have to navigate around snow banks and icy steps to get to each door.

I have never cared much for this holiday. Carving pumpkins is messy, building costumes took more imagination than I’ve ever possessed, and going from car to house to car, loading and unloading excited children with barely-held-together attire without losing a costume part, a child, or my sanity was nothing to look forward to. More than once I asked myself why we did this, but I know for certain it was only because of those little faces who couldn’t believe they were getting a bagful of treats for no reason at all. Visualizing them standing at a trusted neighbor’s door in their bedraggled outfit, saying the magic words (or, in Sarah’s case, stubbornly NOT saying them but flashing a dimpled smile as the candy is dropped into her pumpkin anyway), was all it took. And now that my kids are grown and gone, that is the part I miss. The only part. The happy faces at the end of the evening.

So, I wish good luck and good weather to all those parents and goblins heading out tonight with their costumes, goody bags, and flashlights. I will enjoy you all from the warmth of my living room as you come to my door and I will wish you a safe, dry, happy hallowed eve as I drop the best candy treats into your sacks (no healthy disappointment here). Take care, stay warm, and remember to push your clocks back an hour when you get home. You’ll need the extra sleep.

Sadly In Need of Repair

Monday
Morning:
Caledonian scrapbooking with Sue
    Feeling of accomplishment

Afternoon:
Body massage
    Sondra. New. French.
    Wo-o-o-onderful!

Evening:
Relaxing in my bubble.

Tuesday
Lunch and DVD with Mom.
    The Proposal: funny, sweet, a keeper.
My bangs are driving me crazy: call Ashley.
Start a new Laurie King mystery.

Evening:
Shoulder and arm muscles a little sore, but am still relaxed.
Take aspirin for agitated nerve in tooth dentist worked on awhile back.

Wednesday
Scrape frost off windshield.
Sub at high school: English, World History, Algebra I.
    Good kids.
    Organized teacher.
Order a new L.K. mystery so it will arrive by the time I’m done with this one.
More aspirin.

Thursday
7 a.m. Aspirin not enough.
8 a.m. Tylenol not enough.
9:05 a.m. Dentist gone: Wait until Wednesday.
Get 12-hour painkiller!
No more relaxed bubble.

Friday
Hair cut.
    No more sheepdog look.
Time for another Aleve.

So, how was your week?

Careful What You Wish For

I have been substituting at the high school quite a bit lately; holding down the fort in everything from band to English. It has been interesting to experience this age group again after spending so much time with K-8 the last couple of years.

Sometimes, I wish I would have found a way to get my degree in English, Math, or Science so that I could teach at this higher level. It would be nice to focus on an area of expertise and interest, teach in 50 minute increments, and interact with older students who are capable of abstract, in-depth thought, not to mention being able to tie their own shoes and form a line. However, as I was reminded today, it also means trying to inspire some who are simply not interested, no matter what the incentive, disciplining people who are taller and louder than you, and teaching over the constant drone of raging hormones and the need for self-absorbed attention.

I guess every age has its positive and negative aspects when it comes to teaching. At any rate, I’m still glad to be in the profession and I learn more about myself every time I get into the classroom, regardless of the grade level.

Pre- Pre-Christmas Shopping

This is what my friend, Betty, called me last week to suggest we do. Last year we went on a local pre-Christmas shopping trip before our annual weekend marathon in Portland. That way we could take some of the pressure off of filling our lists and maybe work in some fun or relaxing activities when we got to the big city with other friends and family. It actually was a huge help, and lots of fun, so this year she suggested that we had enough time for two preparation trips if we wanted; and, of course we “wanted.”

We didn’t bring home much, but we did officially get a start on Christmas and I am feeling much more organized. More importantly, we had fun, which is ultimately what shopping is all about! Getting lost on turnabouts, laughter and lunch, solving the world’s problems and thinking about what we can do for others, complaining and consoling, and then more laughter and dessert: how else would I want to prepare for the season of giving?

So, here are some images of our pre- pre-Christmas shopping trip. Our pre-Christmas trip will be in November and the official Christmas shopping spree, where we meet five others in Portland, will be in early December.

Aren’t the fall colors beautiful? We had a crisp, lovely day in which to get lost, as one tends to do in the Tri-Cities area.

This is what was left from our shrimp lunches at Red Lobster. It became a strengthening snack before we tackled Craft Warehouse. (Waste not, want not.) Later, Betty gave me a ride on a hand truck in Best Buy and then we met a woman our age at the mall who was a recent widow forcing herself to get out of the house for awhile because weekends were still hard. She had just come from a coffee date with a group of women who were usually depressing, but that day were fun, and was happy to tell us that her husband had had relatives in our neck of the woods. (I don’t know exactly how it happens, but Betty has an uncanny ability to draw information like that out of complete strangers just by asking for directions. It’s a gift. She can also squeeze the best deals out of the driest turnips with just one sad, little whimper. Truly awe inspiring, but not the only reason she is my friend.)

It took three stores for me to finally break through the ice of indecision and make my first purchase, albeit for myself. I came home with more than a calendar, though. Don’t you wish you knew what I got YOU? Time to send me your wish lists! (Betty said so.) You know who you are.

Spend time with a friend. It feels good.

The Fun Theory

Jen sent these fun Youtube links. My favorite is the last one, but I love the concept of all of them. It's the little things that make life enjoyable.

Que Sera Sera

Today I went to school wearing only one shoulder pad. I’m not sure what happened to the other one, but even though I discovered the imbalance before I left the house, I left anyway with just a shrug of my uneven shoulders. Why stress over what is merely a sublime reflection of my present state of mind? Everything equals out in time:

- Today, one shoulder pad is missing, but I didn’t spill anything on the front of my shirt.

- I am so overdue for a haircut that I resemble a sheepdog, but I did get my flu shot before faulty refrigerators spoiled the serum.

- My house is filled with half-finished knitting and art projects, but I did finally convert a build up of potential energy into enough kinetic energy to plant the mums that I’ve had since Easter.

- I graduated summa cum laude to get a degree that will probably never earn me a job at my age in this economic environment, but I am going shopping with a favorite friend on Saturday and getting a body massage on Monday.

Who needs that other shoulder pad, anyway? Life is good.

Eastern Oregon Skyscrapers

The skyline is changing in our area. What is this new “creature” springing up in our landscape? Actually, they aren’t really new, but the modern generation of them is certainly beefier. Dwarfing its predecessor’s romantic wooden structure and wide, flat blades, these critters stand on stacked steel cylinders the diameter of my dining room, each section almost a block long. The long, narrow blades, which seem tiny when viewed from a distance, are every bit as long as one of the tower sections. I thought it awe-inspiring to pass a long truck hauling one of these parts on the freeway, but seeing them come down the main street of our little town this summer was even more incredible. Nothing prepares you for the size as it stretches across an intersection and halfway down the block, towering above your head even though it is on its side.

Hi, Grandma!

Do you see her? The little water sprite peeking out from her shimmering curtain of water? Jean spotted her first in this picture that I posted on the last blog and pointed her out to Don. She hid longer from me, but once revealed she became as plain as a photograph; her hair, eyes, eyebrows, nose, mouth, and fingers are quite plain even when the photo is enlarged.

It was a miracle that the shutter clicked at the right moment to capture this phenomena, especially since my digital camera has such a delayed reaction. Fleeting expressions that I strive to capture are often long gone by the time the action is finally completed. On this day, I remember loving how the water cascaded in sheets and only concentrated on freezing its dynamic beauty against the stolid cement post and curved chain of the railing. Little did I know that she was there, laughing at us from her hiding spot.

It happened once before, you know. I hesitate to mention it because I'm sure my sanity is already questionable, but it will not be still in my head. As the title of this blog firmly indicates, I must acknowledge the wonder of the mundane, the possibilities that reflect hope. Five years ago (ooh, there is another coincidence) this month, (on Vern's birthday), we landed in Germany, narrowly missing our connecting flight to Venice. In the midst of our desperate effort to get on the next plane we learned from a tired, but humorous German lady that two Elizabeth Kirby's were registered for the plane we had missed. Looking at me she querried, "Which one are you?" Exhausted from no sleep and fully open to the idea that we had lost our minds we decided unquestionably that Betty was in our midst, making sure she wasn't left out of a trip to her favorite country. Perhaps, and it is just a suggestion, she couldn't resist participating in another outing; playing once again with one of her grandchildren. Think what you like; but you can guess what I believe. As much as she tried to fool us, this little sprite is named Betty.

Hitting the Highway

Monday I made a not-so-quick one day trip to the city to pick up some adventurous New York travelers bound for EO. I worried that, in the throes of our decidedly cold weather, with some rain and wind on the side, our beloved territory would not present itself well. Deciduous trees were turning yellow, but autumn’s paintbrush was still unfinished. The overcast sky presented indigo-laden views that were beautiful to a lover’s tolerant eye, but, admittedly, more rugged and moody than usual. On the way down I stopped to take some pictures and coming home, we pulled into Multnomah Falls to show off what we usually take for granted. I am beginning to make more time for doing this, for stopping to smell the roses, per se, and it is well worth the effort. I am also learning to take my camera with me even on seemingly inconsequential runs to the store. Although I hate having one more thing to carry, and grumble at the idea of slowing my progress to pull off the road or walk around the block to get a picture, the rewards are great. Besides taking a few moments for myself amidst a busy day, I am also accumulating a visual feast of reflections of the blessings in my life. It lessens my taking things for granted, softens my American “time-is-money” attitude, sensitizes me to the beauty of even the mundane, gives me a mental break, and makes me more thankful in spirit; even on a rainy, blustery October day.

Besides all that...one of my kids is home!

Happy Birthday, Jeremy!

Some of these photos defy explanation. He may be very serious behind the camera, but something happens when he is in front of the lens...

Confession of a Venial Sin

I told a lie today. At school this morning I was greeted enthusiastically by a couple second graders with, "How big did it get?" I was glad to see them, but my smile must have flagged a bit as I struggled to think what on earth they were referring to. Apparently recognizing the question mark above my head (after all they are second graders now) one added, “The bean plant.”

"Uh, it got big," I offered lamely, vaguely; still searching through my mental files for a reference. Then the bell rang and I opened the classroom door to let more students enter the room. It was like some kind of mental epidemic had taken hold of the group. Rather than crowd their way in as usual, they remained rooted in their line and more kids began to ask me about the plant. Finally, I remembered what they were talking about. This was the class that I had spent a month with last spring when their teacher was on medical leave. The plant in question was actually several plants that sprouted from a variety of beans that we planted together and took care of until I left.

"Oh, I planted it in the ground and it got this big!" I said with more exuberance, gesturing near my knee. It grew some beans on it, too." Eyes were big and "ohs" and "ahs" were breathed with admiration as they finally began filing past.

It was a lie, of course, but I don't feel bad about it because I really did mean to plant the sprouts and that is truly what would have happened if I had. This is why being a full time teacher would be cool. We could have watched the beans grow to maturity. Even though I told them what would happen, I don't think they have really grasped the fact yet that bean plants, which grow from beans, will produce more beans. It would be nice to discover that together.

Growing Children

I have recently been able to substitute teach two of the classes that I worked with for extended periods last year when their teachers were on medical leaves. Now second and first graders, it was interesting to see how they have all matured and it was really great to enter the room knowing most of their names.

Those who hadn't been able to contain their wiggles long enough to form and stay in a line can now now do so quite efficiently. Likewise, they are all more adept at quieting down when signalled, following directions, and transitioning through daily procedures and activities. While these skills seem extremely peripheral to learning, I assure you that very little learning takes place without them in place because chaos invariably interferes.

Most gratifying to me was the fact that, aside from the new students who had moved into the district, I was greeted in both classrooms as more than a substitute. The kids remembered me and still seemed to value our previous relationship, which allowed us to move through the day as a team. I loved seeing how each had blossomed.

The few who had behavioral challenges showed much more awareness and self-control. I could almost see the wheels turning as they negotiated with themselves over how to handle situations that arose. I also gloried in a couple little ones who were now reading fluently and able to keep up with their peers in whole group work. It was obvious that they were proud of themselves, as well.

The teachers in this district have done a great job with the kids. I'm glad I was able to be part of their lives for a little while and it is certainly good to check in with them again.