Orange clove mind
mist, boxing gloves
pens and Art
Orange clove mind
mist, boxing gloves
pens and Art
My heart cries tonight at this site. A construction crew came through this week. They installed a high pressure pipe irrigation system in place of the old ditch flood system. Tonight when the rain stopped and the sun broke through, I took a walk down the fence line to look it over. That’s when reality set in. Every bit of marvelous milkweed is gone. Not a leaf or stick remains. A 150 year flood irrigation system and wetland ecosystem has been altered forever and I am heart broken. When the Monarchs return there will be nothing here for them. Nothing… unless there is milkweed growing in the riparian zone closer to the Weber River, three hundred yards away. As for me, I gifted away all the milkweed seed I had harvested. I am just so sad about this.
Today I am thankful…
for good witches (not the bad ones found jelly side down in a sand box,
or the frightening warty ones of literary and cinema horror stories,
but good ones…..like Glinda, and Elphaba, and Xan, and teachers
who clap their hands believing in fairies and scatter pixie dust
some flying with wings and gold and rainbows
Some reading Roald Dahl…with or without gloves and square-toed shoes.
Which ones?……good women, with kind thoughts, understanding hearts,
and who have each others backs
*I am thankful too for
gobblers ( ha ha…..not of the turkey kind……but of the children kind
(sometimes hungry, and sometimes not, but more often than not,
birds of a feather, grateful for the snacks I scatter before them)
I am thankful
my life does not depend on eating some of that turkey feed and…….Seaweed.
It was March, and the Moon was full of milk, like a first time Spring heifer about to calve. It was the week of Dads and Doughnuts, and Read Across America, when on a whim, I bought a package of dried seaweed at Whole Foods. Oh, the Places I go. This school year, I have a student who loves the stuff, and just for kicks I decided to taste it. I was dying to know what the draw was. Why did he love the stuff so much.
After one bite, I discovered there is no draw for me. Zilch. Zero. Nada. No magnetism. Let’s just say I experienced the Law of Repulsion. Barfo! It smelled and tasted like…goldfish food. Yes. I have tasted goldfish food. So along with that bite of seaweed, I think I drank more water in five minutes than I had all day that Saturday…and that was a double Title work-out day, which meant mega hydration.
So, I sat in Pearl, carefully chewing, nose plugged so as not to taste the smell. I imagined the green stuff as green eggs n ham. I was hoping Seuss’s Magic would work on me. Initially, the stuff crackled and mixed with saliva like a thin slice of celophane. Thoughts left Mulberry Street and meandered toward Sassman and Wetz Lanes , backroads of my rural Texas upbringing. Memories of well-done scrambled eggs filled my brain. I held these heavenly haloed on my tongue. The scabby skiffs of egg-run residues. I concentrated my tongue, like a spatula scraping a ring around the teflon rim of the frying pan. The egg pan trimmings were my favorite thing about breakfast as a kid. Better than bacon. Sweeter than juice. I loved making a quick collection of crusty protein. So with a fast greasy finger, I garnered these, as if playing with fire, trying not to get burned on the still-hot pan before mom could catch me and take the turner.
Turn the clock forward forty years. The whole time, at Whole Foods, while in that awful cud chewing mouthful moment, even the best imagining could NOT make the seaweed taste good. So, like the creative stack and stockpiler I am, I saved the despicable thing. Rather than toss it to the trash, I took the seaweed to school and stashed it on top of a rolling bookshelf. Just knowing I had attempted eating the stuff, was worthy of a prize ribbon. Just possessing some of it, felt just as empowering toward magikal, because I knew it would only be a matter of time before a certain little boy would want it. There: along-side a plethora of skinny, fine-tip markers, crisp roll of golden tickets, and sundry master copies of just run, or needing to be run Reading Street tests and practice sheets. Yesterday’s custodial pen and pencil pick-ups, Sleddy the Snowman who is still counting down the days until next Christmas, and Rusty, the recess cowbell, had nothing on the seaweed pack as I would discover.
Student: (with a Big Smile, drawing out my name) “Mrs. Rrrrrrr, Can I have a piece of
Teacher: ” Did your dad bring a supply to Mrs. Beamann yet?”
Teacher: “I guess your dad needs to do his homework then.”
Student: “The China people live too far away for them to get it.”
Teacher: ” Your dad doesn’t have to go to China to get seaweed. There is a store in the city, less than an hour from here. And…..the workers don’t live in China either.”
Student: “I know. My dad has been too busy….(endless excuses)”
Teacher: “Maybe you should work on your dad instead of working on me. He needs to do his homework. If you want seaweed, your dad will have to bring it to Mrs. Beaman.”
Student: “Okaaaaaay.” ( Pause. I am doing homework check-in and attendance, etc. Student is standing next to me.)
Teacher: “Do you know how most mornings I am the one checking in on you, asking how your morning is going and if you have eaten breakfast?”
Teacher: “Well, today, you might need to be asking ME those questions. I had a really rough start this morning. But the good news is……even though it started out that way, I can still choose to make today a happy day. You know, you can make it happy too. Does that make sense?”
Teacher: “Good.” (Student slinks back unsatisfied to his desk, continues to stall and does not comply with work requests. Picks up a book called Explorers and reads, rather than working on an Ipad task.)
Teacher: (Lets it go, realizing that INTEREST drives reading……and Reading is good and better than no reading.)
(Rewind to approximately 30 minutes earlier)
I notice daylight permeating the peach and mauve-acado J.C. Penny floral curtains
Sit stark upright, wondering if it is Friday
Nope it WASN’T!!!! (That was tomorrow’s Snow Day holiday)
Dove into a pile of pillows to retrieve a cell phone
Discovered to my horror it truly was…..7:39 a.m.
It was a school day
The Benedryl sleeping pill had done the job…..TOO WELL
Knocking me out like a Title prize fighter!
And so, with a head ringing like a bell
I called for help.
All day long…..
I am grateful for Mrs. S. for opening up my classroom, letting in the children, and for cracking the iPad safe.
I am thankful for Mrs. B.
for sitting with the children until I arrived 20 minutes later
New SPEED RECORD
I am thankful I made it to school ALIVE without incident
and that I slowed to 20 mph in the school zones
even in a fuzzy state of dishevelment, without a morning routine,
without beloved COFFEE
ambrosia of the gods
without deodorant, oblivious to the sunrise, and without thoughtful morning prayer,
With the biggest Benedryl hangover headache possible
I arrived ALIVE.
So thankful for Mrs. B……for B-ing there.
Thankful for students who
are kind and get to work without too many questions.
Thankful for the Office help and for a shorty-bus shuttle
to the swimming pool so we didn’t have to walk in the snow and rain
the 2×2 blocks to and from the high school pool.
I am thankful for space, and for quiet recovery to go sit in Pearl and to put on
make-up in a belated parking lot ritual
I am thankful for
a prayer of quiet gratitude
I am grateful for no judgement
No one there, aware, and judging the state of my mind and my physical appearance
in this moment.
I am thankful for imagination
and for my Savior’s arms around me
as I realize…….everything is okay and is going to be okay.
I also realize…….I have a sleep problem, among other problems
that I wish to overcome
but I am really just very thankful……that I woke up.
Later I see a friend. She is hanging Art in the kiva. They are the pixelated pictures; a product of the practice of “Seeing” things as they are. I tell my friend what happened. She listens and cares. Then she shares some scary personal stories about a family member with sleep problems. The individual was so out-of-it on pills, that she would wake in the middle of the night in a zombie state and cook food. One night she almost burned down the house. Wow!
I am thankful……that I don’t cook…(ha ha)…(under the influence)
and that the only waking I do (in the night)
is in a hot flash, or
is to go to the bathroom
or to make the cold, hard wood floor walk, to fill my green plastic, bed-side water cup.
I am thankful I can walk… with and without pain. And I am thankful for water.
I am thankful for school lunch……..cuz I was soooo hungry today.
Not even a Yoohoo snack drink, almonds, and two fist-fulls of Cheeze-its would quell my churning stomach.
I am thankful… (that I don’t have four stomachs like cows do….or otherwise…
I might have had 4 times the hunger)
I am thankful…
for kind lunch ladies who make it my way, right away, and don’t mind customizing
the lucky red tray
without, chips, cake, cookies, and cinnamon rolls, even though all of these things are homemade and delicious.
I am thankful for protein and carb cycling
for baked chicken and homemade rolls,
for green salad, with Ranch dressing and dried blueberries (bugs).
And….I am thankful I am frequently caught on the knot of lunch room tug-o-war,
being beckoned by my children to eat with them.
(12:00 pm, Lunch)
Seaweed Kid: “Mrs. R., will you sit by me?”
Teacher: (Slight pause. Whispering heart) (Enthusiastic) “YES.”
Student: “I get to sit by the BEST teacher ever.”
Teacher: “I’m glad you are feeling happy today.” I sit down and begin eating french fries.
Student: “Mrs. R., You are loved.” (Student half-hugs me.)
Teacher: “I’m glad you are feeling good today. You know, I don’t always feel loved.”
Student: “Well, you are!”
Teacher: “Thank you.” ( I imagine this has something to do with me inviting students to have inside recess in our classroom with Legos, rather than face the chaos of inside recess in the gym.)
I am thankful for
inside recess (at least for today)
for happy, playfully engaged children
and for seeing stormy weather as an opportunity
And so…… I host the Lego Club and another edition of
“Robotic Starbucks of the Future” as it is wonderfully imagined by my 4th graders.
I am also thankful
I could rescue two girls from the wrath of a witchy teacher casting dark spells
outside her own territory. So, I was Glad to welcome in with a wink, two girls form another class as my own, who had curiously gone rogue from the gym to find safe haven in my classroom.
I am thankful for smiles
from those girls and others who chose to build domino trains and “gears” into engineering something future-rama.
I am grateful for many things, not the least of which are my 4th grade gobblings,
one of which covets a nasty feather-weight seaweed pack, that I keep as a reminder of leveraged power
that is …….the Power
to do good or to reward good on my terms, with Love and Logic,
And so I will end with this….
and promptly make a sandwich made for gobbling
Title two-a-day, life guard,
stiff sore water play
daddy-daughter dance display,
Barnes and Noble, Lego sets
working sons who don’t forget…
black molasses scenic ways
Olympic back scratch get-away
meditation mind sway
I am music
and still light
some days come early
at the touch of the Master’s hand
the Universe delivers
like a flourish of birds
to your breadcrumb offerings
leaving you dumbstruck
in tears of gratitude
you relinquish the tourniquet wait
the all wrapped up and out of reach
of five dollar daisies in crystal
peel the suffocating cellophane
limited mind set
give in and just receive
as if the tip did not depend on it
Children are one of the greatest joys in Life. I’m Grateful for my friend who teaches Art to our children and for those who make the Arts possible. I love what the children have created here. Their imagination inspires me toward thinking and creativity.
Inside the lab the children tap home row, but think of Winter
Inside her paper grading mind she sees
A D H D A D H D……and know they need to MOVE!
Outside, between the mini-blinds they long to go.
The Snowflakes play and dance and jump
like frosty aphids
Cloud jumpers want to land on children’s chocolate rainbow faces
I close my teacher eyes to tests and schedules
and vow to try to be….. more better
and like my fledglings, just let GO.
And so, I open wide my child eyes
to innocent discovery
to magic and believing
to making fun the tasty freeeeeeeze
to loving every icy thing
above, below and all around me.
***That day we caught two, three…… or ten bazillion crystals.
Sublime time crystals snagged from space before the bell rang
before we went inside the lines to rows and orders
***Right there and then
outside in real-life child time
I blinked and pinked and peeked
a sea of children trying to climb the sky
***They caught a cache of long-lashed loot
with wet pink wrinkled platted tongues to boot
They worked the work of clomping scattering snow shoes
cocked back, wide gapped, their toothless little mouths
refused to close
Again, again, they hurled a never ending spray of joyous celebration
the happy song, a child’s quest of romping salutation
a freedom called to play that comes so easily to youth
a slip and slide of slush and shovels from January through February
of winking sloppy snowflake melt on everyone
and ice sickle sword play.
***I gazed and coveted
and so I caught for me a clear blueberry sky
atop the frozen flagpole field of stars on high
I sighed and tasted beauty on my taffy tongue-pull
and savored long and well that sweet sleet drip
*** I scanned to spy a hundred button noses cocked,
tipped confident to trusting, far from Winter’s cutting edge
a hundred open bird chirp mouths intent on feeding
a hundred rosy cheeks all zipped and scarfed, and willing
a hundred homespun, bought, some thrown, without a thought
for soggy shirts and sweaters.
Torn, blown and flying. Heaped high in coat banks deep and dying.
A wondrous wave of woven woolen mittens burst again, hands raised
all vying for the blessed soft serve. The sweet friends,
a mess of mewing kittens lapping milk
spilt soft upon the silky white of morning
one two three four….more….the frosty excess
five fingering a Jan Brett mittened recess
upon the tongues of children, snowflakes flying without end,
then just as fast
gone gone to never-lasting
Then back for more galore!
***It’s days like these
I love to be.
It’s times like these
I don my eagle wings and breath,
immune to fixed, inflexible, and grown up thinks
It’s times like these I thank my God.
I raise my face to Winter Sun and muddy buddy dogs
and set my tongue