Thursday, October 15, 2015

October Baseball! Fingers Crossed--Let's Go METS!

Let's Go Mets!

Okay, I'm a sucker for a good baseball game. I admit it. If I weren't, there'd be no way I could've lasted this long. I watch my team, your team, and anybody else's team to see a good put-out, a great pitch, or a grand slam. I have been watching baseball since I was literally able to climb up on my dad's knee.

My dad...was a Red Sox fan. Having sailed here from Ireland, who else would he choose? Boston, to his thinking, was an all Irish town. I can only imagine what he'd have thought of the green caps those Sox fans wear on their heads now!

For the better part of 25 years, I've hung my gallery of caps and then my Mets banner too, on the wall in my classroom, just behind the American flag. And I'd tell parents right at Open House that of course I was working on a subtle form of brain washing. Why not? Without a series win since 1986, we could use all the fans we could get. So everyday, my kids would pledge allegiance to the flag of the US and to the banner of the NY Mets.

I bribed them with threats to cheer for my team, and there'd be no homework over and over again. And I did pay-off, but seriously? There were some very lean years!

And then came along all the trickster parents, like the one who fed his son a half-gallon of ice-cream spoon by spoon while practicing his April Fool's exclamation, "Mrs. Lynch--guess what?! I'm a Mets fan now!" Yup, I fell for it. And that kid to this day remains a Yankee fan.

Even my own kids have been duped by my husband and swallowed the Yankee pill.

But today, my niece Caroline who is infamous over at Tech Insider tweeted me about a fellow teacher/Mets fan, Mr. Lazarus Apparently, Mr. L's third graders, Queens natives, are writing letters to convince the Mets to win! Well, that Mr. Lazarus is no dummy! First of all, he's playing to the right market. Up here in Newtown, we're on the Yankee/Red Sox line.

Second of all, for those of you who care, he's firing them up to write to one of his third grade standards, so this is no idle child's play here! So maybe, just maybe, Mr. Lazarus, I've been the jinx all along! Here's hoping the torch can be passed, and now it's up to you!

C'MON, gotta get fired up when you read a letter like that!

And tonight, even though I always keep a bit of cool caution in my hopes pool--I'm feeling pretty optimistic right now. I've come a long way since I got struck by that Grande Orange bug! And honestly, the convincing came from my best friend's dad--Mr. George Ripley! It didn't take much, just a little evening baseball after he got home, a bit of explaining about the game...and then, in '69 the Mets themselves sealed the deal!

Let's hope we're back there once again!


Wednesday, August 26, 2015

My Little Place in the Woods

I never imagined life could be so good...a little cottage, a pine forest, my laptop and a golden puppy resting under my feet. After so many seasons of early wake-ups, cramming close to the screen with that hot cup of coffee to jump-start my day, I am, at long last, somewhat retired from the day to day schedule at school.

My mornings consist not of an alarm, but the persistent poking of a black puppy nose attached to a mass of golden fur. I no longer have to choose an outfit, shorts and a tank top will do. But the coffee?
Oh...that will never change!

Today, I spent three hours revising seven pages in my book. I angsted over a new chapter I know I have to stitch in somehow between two others I've recently revised too. When I reached the point of frustration, I went out and raked and weeded and clipped. And then I went back to the cottage and got it right this time, I think.

To round out my day, I took my pup out for a long walk in the woods, and then walked along a well-traveled path and had a few long conversations with all the regular dog walkers I knew. But then, as the trail weaved its way around the bend...I passed my old school. Do I miss it? You bet. I miss the people, the kids, and of course all the opportunities to challenge myself and the kids, creating each and every day from scratch. opportunities to be a part but not immersed in the field of education abound. I'll be back. But now, in my own way, on my own time, because after all these years of waking up, it's my time to have a little choice! What an incredible reward!

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Riding on a Cloud

Riding on a Cloud--

I walk and watch a golden tail,
poised upward,
catching the wind.

He walks,
and I am  tethered
to the other end of the leash.

It is me
who follows
and not leads.

And for once
in my life,
I'm grateful for that.

Now, after years and years
of lines
and order
and organizational structure.

After being the follower
and the leader,
marked by a rigorous
daily schedule, a regimen
and routine--

I can relax.

I am not the schedule
nor am I the schedule

Sure, I hold
a calendar
with dates
and work
still to be done.

But I am, now
the cloud rider
I ebb and flow
in the wind.

I lean in and lend a hand,
pull back
and escape...

to my cottage,
my writing,
my dream, left for years...

Now is my time, my world,
my chance
to sail on a cloud,
to be light
and uplifted
by the wind!

Back to School...well, almost!

 Orientation...One Last Time!
(Note: This blog, written last May, was saved to draft until recently, when I came across it and decided to put it out there for view.)

People wondered
I came...

A last chance
to psyche
up a new crowd--

Anxiously curious,
in, clustered in twos
and threes,

eyeing us--
while we were
eyeing them.

Incoming spectators--
to hear
the just right words,
to set their
minds at ease.

Setting the stage
for next year's brave
it's here that it all begins
to unfold.

But, this year--
my last year,
I will not watch
that story.

It will unfold,
as it always does
and soon a new crop
will fill the halls
come fall.

Anxious parents
will melt away,
and business
will go on,
as usual.

But when that long
yellow ribbon
of roaring buses
stretches as far as the eye
can see--

And I will
travel toward
a new horizon,
longing...all the while
to be that kid,
who became
the teacher
who streamed down
that hall, and
waited with delight
for a whole new
chapter to begin.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

When the Teacher Leaves the Classroom

A Teaching Life--well lived, filled with activity and stimulation and chatter, and behaviors...oh, the behaviors! Kids need lots and lots of stimulation, physical movement, interactive time, and time to digest and question what they've learned. I love my profession; I always have. It has never, ever been a job to me.

Teaching and learning are the things I know best, and so I've been gifted with the career of my dreams. I've lavished through 32 seasons of teaching, living my life with the opening and closing of the classroom door. I've sat on the beach and dreamed up units of study in reading and writing in the summertime...envisioned lessons and the activities that kids would love, so that school would not be a burden for them to endure.

And then, in late August and early September, I'd race to the teachers' store, and buy up name tags and bulletin board paper (the school's colors were always too bland) and borders and desktags and books and notebooks (I was finicky about that too.). I bought button collections and dreidels and straws and cotton balls and even a miniature zoo! But most of all...I bought books! Lots and Lots of books--and truth be known (don't tell my husband), I'm still buying them to put the just right book in the hands of my kids.

And throughout the years, I've worked hard to keep the engines moving. Writing has always been my passion. And because of that, I've prided myself in making sure they filled up at least one notebook, and most of the time two...with poetry and stories and expert information that they'd gleaned because they had a passion they chose to write about. I have loved the kids who were reportedly 'blocked'...they're the ones who'd convinced themselves and their parents they couldn't write.
I'd leave them alone, ignore their protests, and let them do the best they could. And as soon as they started to pop...much like the blooms on a tree--I'd move in quickly to lather on the praise, and then shrink back into the shadows again.

At the beginning of this year, I had no plans of retiring. And if you'd asked me, I'd probably give you a look. You see, I always wanted to go out on my own terms, never appearing old or impassioned, I simply wanted to sneak out the side door on the last day with the kids. I knew that day would come. We all know. My decision to leave...comes with kids at the heart of it. I will never be that teacher that everyone groans about. I will never shortchange a class because my energy or enthusiasm can not match theirs. A teacher needs to his/her heart, when that gifted period of teaching begins to show a bit of wear and tear.

So...before I become-

I have decided to take this time in my life to drop my keys on the table, turn my kids over to next year's super star...and take the opportunity to leave. I haven't really thought about this day...about what it will be like not to be surrounded constantly by a circle of kids. But honestly, I've been opening that classroom door since I was five years old, and now, it's time to enjoy a little sun on my face, the flexibility to enjoy family, friends, and to finally devote some time to my own writing...and the plethora of other things that I most enjoy in life!

From mouths of babes...

Ode to Sunshine
by Alex W., one of the many talented students I've been so blessed to know!

An ode to the sunshine
brightening my day
banishing the darkness,
to a place far, far away.
Ode to the sunshine 
yellow among blue,
warming the treetops,
evaporating the dwindling dew.
Ode to sunshine
making colors brighter, 
tanning my arms,
making t-shirts whiter.
Ode to sunshine
brightening my day,
banishing the darkness,
tucking the shadows away.

The shadows--the years, well they have caught up with me, but...I am not feeling my age at all. I have my health and a lifetime of memories. I am so ever grateful for all that I've been given in my Newtown teaching career...most of all for the friendships I've forged. Truth is, when you teach with champions, it's hard not to want to rise to the level of that cream! 

Friday, April 3, 2015

Mud Shake: More Lessons from a Golden Mud-making Machine

So today, as I battle this bleak and dreary, ugly pre-Easter day, I have to remember--a small dose of gratitude, and not this awful crankiness, is what I really need.

Looking in the rearview mirror is usually the best strategy I've got. After all, any of us who live
in a country like ours, ought to get down and kiss the ground beneath our feet. (I'm hearing my dad's voice in my head as I write this!) 

Luxury life is filled with them! And really, whose isn't? What I do with them, and how I live with acceptance of them is really the name of the game.

But in past years, I have had a cup that has overflowed! I've had jelly beans and Easter egg hunts, little cuddly babies of my own. And as my kids grew into little kids, I chased them around in the backyard, and took them on hikes in their boots, in those cold first days of Spring.

I want all my kids to be home. I want that huge Easter celebration, much like the ones I've had in the past. I want that excitement of the nest filling up again.

But, what I think I need is downtime, a book, a dog, time with my long-time boyfriend,
and a chance to sit at the dinner table and chat with at least one of my kids.

And that, I will have.

It's been a long hard winter, and now, the first real signs of Spring that I've found,
is the giant mud puddle my dog loves to lay in and the tiny tick I found on his forehead
today. But, as I look closer, dig deeper...and spend a little time outdoors--

I hear a very loud vociferous chorus, the birds, playing off the stand of trees--my own pine forest in my backyard. A gaggle of geese honk above me, searching and finding the pond just below my yard. And that smell...the earthiness of mud and worms. Well, as dumb as that sounds, it's then I finally, I succumb.

Like that big old muddy golden of mine...I will shake off what isn't to be for right now, and be grateful for all I've been given today. And then--I will enjoy our much smaller group tomorrow--that little Easter party of nine!

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Sliding onto a Mat: March 31, 2015 Slice of Life Challenge 31/31 (I'm there!) #solc15

After a long day, long month, long home on a Tuesday night to catch the SLOW, energetic flow class was just what the doctor ordered today. I honestly wish I'd discovered yoga years ago. But a good friend of mine always tells me we're never late--as long as we eventually arrive where we belong.

I belong in yoga; a non-sport, non-judgmental energetic adventure that brings me to a place of candles and warmth and wanderings I'd never even imagined before. 

A long line of energy flows from the top of my scalp  to the very tip of my toes. I reach high into the heavens and arc back just a bit. Then the length of me reaches and stretches, upward dog and downward dog, pigeon pose, and poses that sometimes leave me dangling in mid-air perpendicular to the wood floor. 

One moment, I am a goddess, the next I am a warrior ready to face the world.

In the end, my worn-out body stretches long over my blue mat, I curve my spine upward then bring it back down, hoist myself up and plow my toes toward the sky...then all at once toss them again toward the back of the room. And last, I return, one vertebrae at a time to the floor for a long, meditative shavasana...
reclining pose. 

Yoga. Is. Life...
a hard-working teacher's best friend.
Happiness lives inside the practice, and my family, my friends,
my students and the rest of the world deserve a happier me.


Slice of Life Challenge: 
For the month of March, I've participated in a daily writing challenge, blogging, and posting, and reading other teachers' blogs. This challenge was started by two writing teachers, and can be found at their blog each day: What a great way to keep story threading through my brain each day.

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