Unsettled

I don't know what has come over me lately. It almost seems as though I am dazed and confused. This is the way teenagers feel when they are on the cusp of adulthood. It feels as if there's something on the horizon that is waiting for me to find it. It feels like inertia - there's something just around the next corner that will be waiting for me when I make the right move. With a year of teaching to go before retirement, perhaps some of this uncertainty stems from that great unknown called retirement. If I could just put my finger on whatever it is I'm waiting on. The unknown is beginning to bug me; it gnaws and gnaws on my thoughts.

When I listen to really good song lyrics, I get the incredible urge to write. I am so amazed at some of the lyrics I have been listening to lately. I wish I could have said those things myself, but these writers have done it so perfectly! I suppose if I am to begin writing, I will actually have to put some effort into it. These blogs will not cut it. There is no creativity here; just introspection and reflection. If only I could write creatively. I would like to capture scenes, characters and emotions so realistically that they become memorable to readers. Maybe there is a future in writing for me. I get the same feeling lately, with poetry and fiction and non-fiction, as well.

The two singers I have been listening to lately are Sara Bareilles and Corinne Bailey Rae. Their songs are incredible. The lyrics are so thoughtfully written and the tunes are exceptionally appealing. They just cry out to be sung along with on the computer or ipod.

Perhaps when school is out, I will make a concerted effort to write. The journals I do at school are just another form of this blog material. I will need to focus my energies on tackling something more substantial.

29 Down and 1 to Go

Gracious, but I don't know how in the world I find myself looking at the end of my 29th year of teaching. That sounds like an eternity, but, no, it's been a mere blink of an eye, in some respects.

Yesterday, we had our luncheon for the 3 staff members who are retiring this year. It was really nice, but it was bittersweet. While we are happy to see them eagerly anticipating retirement, many of us are sad to be seeing them go. I couldn't reconcile those ambiguous emotions. To think that I will be one of those going next year is rather unnerving. I am looking forward to it, and I don't want to be weepy and emotional. We were acting like these people were moving far, far away, when they are just going to to be 'absent' from school from now on.

Thinking about 30 years is surreal. I was a newlywed when I began my career. Now my children are 25, 23 and 15, and I have a daughter-in-law. We have owned 3 different houses and more cars than I can count. Dad died during those 30 years, along with both my grandpas. We've traveled to Florida, Maryland, Virginia and North Carolina, plus we've taken several trips abroad to Italy and the British Isles. When I was a journalism teacher, I took students on trips to Ball State, Chicago, Memphis, St. Louis and Cleveland.

Now those students are parents and I have had many children of students in recent years, which is another surreal phenomenon. I have taught in 4 different classrooms, and have survived a year of school construction. I've tried to tally up how many principals I've worked for, and superintendents, too, but I never get very far. I quit trying a long time ago to count all the English teachers who've been in our department since 1979. That is a very long list.

There has been a lot of satisfaction in teaching. I have said to students that I really don't think of my job as a job. I just get to go to school every day. I've been going to school for about 46 years, when I go back to include grades 1-12 and college. I really like school, and most of the time didn't have bad feelings about the work. The worst times were caused not by the job, but usually by just a handful of students who were just miserable to work with.

The biggest regret I have is that I worked when the kids were little. I wish I had considered that at the time, but it never occurred to me. Now, I can see what a disservice I did to them by hauling them off every day to a baby sitter's. The sitters were good, but not as good as a mom. If I'd taken that route, I wouldn't be thinking about retiring in a year. But in hindsight, that wouldn't have been such a bad trade off.

So, with mixed emotions, I end year number 29 in about 13 days, and begin year number 30. The year will go fast, as all of them seem to go, and I will have completely different emotions then than I do now. I just hope that there are more feelings of excitement than sadness.

I think there will be.

Dealing with catastrophe

For the past two days in my English classes, I have been emphasizing to my students the importance of using our journal-writing time for thoughtful rumination, rather than listing and itemizing basic day-to-day activities. I contend that they are bored with the journal activity, and are therefore uninspired when faced with the daily entry.

Here is an example of what I am talking about. This morning on ChannelOne news, there was a segment on the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz concentration camp. The reporter interviewed a survivor of Auschwitz who was a child when in captivity there. She is now 85 years old. One thing she said struck a chord with me. It was something to this effect: "We never know if tomorrow will bring a catastrophic event to our lives. How strong will we be if the catastrophe happens to us?"

Catastrophe occurred in my life on an innocent Thursday in late October, 1982. I answered the phone call that no one ever wants to answer. Mom was on the other end, and with a choking voice, she said that Dad had been in a combine accident. She wanted us to come to the hospital in Hillsboro immediately. It was the beginning of an absolutely numbing few days. Before I could get to the hospital, Dad was being transported by ambulance to Cincinnati, and he died in transit.

Even after 22 years, I miss him terribly. I can still remember the last conversation we had, and the last thing I said to him. I was never a "Daddy's girl," and we weren't extraordinarily close, but, oh, to lose him hurt for a long, long time. I still feel his loss, and grieve that my kids never got to know their grandad, and, even, sadder, that he missed out on knowing them.

A second catastrophe occurred for my family, or I should say, my husband's family, on March 7, 2004, when his niece, Keely Jo Maxwell was killed in a car wreck. She was 17 years old, the absolute light of her parents' life, and had the most amazing future ahead of her imaginable. Keely was unbelievably talented in volleyball and basketball. As a matter of fact, she was on her way home from a college visit to Kent State, where she most wanted to go on a volleyball scholarship, when the wreck occurred. Again, the next few days were a nightmare. The grief suffered by the family was staggering.

We are still grieving. The pain lessens for some of us, but her mother and father, her brother, and her grandparents continue to feel the pain of the loss. I don't know how one recovers, honestly. The very thought of losing a child in a senseless accident is too painful to consider.

Now, when I think of the recent catastrophes that have been in the news from around the world, I try to imagine our anquish multiplied millions of time over. It's difficult to wrap one's brain around such utter pain. Those affected by the tsunami, those affected by insurgents in Irag, those killed in the horrible train wreck in California, and so many more are all suffering in their own ways. As insurmountable as the pain is, somehow they will all get through it.

And that takes me back to the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. The sweet-yet-sad-looking 85-year-old survivor speaks quietly, but speaks volumes. She does not hate her captors; she spreads words of hope for others; she stresses that we must not let future generations forget the senseless loss of life, nor must we permit such vile hatred to rein ever again.

Down on Me Day

If there is one thing that I do especially well, it's waste time. I have been home from school since around 4pm, and except for fixing dinner, I have done nothing but play TextTwist on the computer. What is that accomplishing??? It aggravates me that I just sit. I could be working on grades. I could be working on a quilt. I could be reading - finishing Cold Comfort Farm, or starting another. I could be cleaning something. Basically, I have nothing to show for the last 3 hours.

Before I got all buggy about TextTwist, I played freecell. Before that, minesweeper. Before that, mahjong. It's been a long succession of meaningless games. What is the attraction? Why am I drawn to the computer to play these games and waste my time?

Perhaps I need to set a limit for myself. If I allow myself a set number of minutes each day, and then when I have used those minutes, I have to stop, that will be a way for me to maximize my free time. I just love the sense of accomplishment. Why don't I allow myself to feel that more often? I could have so many quilts made. I could have so many books read. I could have so much of my grading finished. I could have a cleaner house. I could have a cleaner car. I could have my bills paid. I could have my correspondence caught up. I could exercise. So many things that would be better to do than to sit in front of the computer playing a silly game for hours on end. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

Self control. That is what I lack. It's the same lack of self-control that prevents me from losing weight. I am my own worst enemy. I have no one to blame but myself.

Grrr. Agravating. Procrastinator.

Down on Me Day. Why can't I do better?

Trial Run...

I didn't set out to begin this tonight. It just so happened that I was clicking around on the internet, and found an interesting-looking site related to blogging, something that I have near the top of my to-do list for the new year. Five or six clicks later, here I am. Totally unprepared with what I want to say.

I'll begin by saying that today is my 48th birthday. Well, it's after midnight, so technically I'm 22 minutes into the day after my birthday. But, I'm staying up late, and to me it's still "today." I've not given a moment's thought to growing another year older; instead, my husband, daughter, and I had a full day planned in Columbus. Our high school basketball team played a game at Ohio State's Schottenstein Center, so we wanted to go to that. None of us had ever been to a game there before, so we were very curious to see it.

Since the game was at 1:30, the trip to Columbus allowed us to fit in some shopping. One place I really wanted to go to was The Glass Thimble, a wonderful quilt shop on North High Street. They were having their annual 25% off sale. I spent most of the time just looking at the great samples they had hanging all around the store. Then I decided that it would be cool to look for the books or patterns that these samples were made from. That was time-consuming, though, so I began looking for some fabric that sort of just "spoke" to me. The total damages were close to $100, as I found 2 books, 1 pattern, and 4 pieces of fabric, 2 yards of each.

Another place I really needed to go to was Sam's Club, as we were out of quite a few of the staple items that I buy there. We bought the stuff I really needed to get (green beans, cold medicine, bar soap, laundry detergent, etc.) and some things I never expected to get. Kevin had been wanting a laundry hamper to put in our bedroom where we've always had just a basket. We found a 3-piece basket combo, one of which is a hamper, for around $37. Also, Kevin found a pair of blue jeans to his liking. I hope they fit. There was no place to try them on.

A really fun late-afternoon lunch stop was to Macaroni Grill at Tuttle Crossing. I've been there 3 times now, and have never had a bad meal. Emma had a chicken-fingers kids meal. Kevin ordered a special - sole, fixed in a really delicious way with orisi (?) pasta. Quite good. I had a canelloni (?) with parmesan cheese. I ordered this because I thought I was getting something a little smaller, yet this thing was gigantic! It was cut into 5 wedges, and I could only eat 2 of them. Of course, they serve a small loaf of bread for dipping in olive oil, and we ordered an antipasti dish of bruschetta with pancetta. We were very full when we left, to say the least. But it was all good, and the waiter was a gem. He explained all the food, and even gave us directions to a closer Sam's Club than the one we would have go to.

Since getting home, I've done 3 loads of laundry, attempted to learn more about our new computer (just hooked it up last night!), and watched our Buckeye boys lose in double overtime to LSU. Bummer.

As I've typed this bit of time, I've been thinking about what kinds of things I will write in this blog. Or does one say "on" this blog? Anyway, whichever is correct, I think I will write about my main interests:
1. Reading and books
2. Italy
3. Italian cooking
4. Quilting and fabric shopping
5. Teaching (what I do professionally)
6. Family

I'd like to think that I'd have some fabulous insights along the way, but I really don't think I will. I will try, though, not to be too banal in my ramblings. It's a pretty safe bet that I will not get too many comments about the things I write, but that is fine with me. I am not doing this to get comments. I want to keep a blog just to have a formal journal. I've not been doing it at school like I used to, and I need to get back to it.

And so, I will sign off with the immortal words of Jackie Gleason, "and awaya-ay we go!"