...the good ol' days

I've been busy sorting, tossing, scanning and packing in preparation for my new life. One cupboard of my classroom was full of photo albums. Twenty two years of memories. I decided to scan some of the photos and toss the rest. It has been a delightful walk down memory lane. I usually scoff when someone refers to the past as "the good old days," but I have to admit to some nostalgia for "back then," when I first started teaching at the high school. Back then I had a high-ceilinged, drafty old room with tile floors. We could have a bubble-fest and not worry about the mess. I wonder if I'll have a tile floor in my new classroom?

...being a goose

Jesus dropped the F bomb just as he stepped inside my classroom door. I responded with "the look." He said, "Oops, my bad!" I said, "How about you apologize in a way that is meaningful to an old fogey like me?" He looked puzzled for a second, then his face lit up. "You're a GOOSE!" Whaaat? How is that an apology? After a bit of back and forth we communicated. He had meant to say that I was a "geezer." Goose/geezer--both start with G and have the s sound in the middle. What's one to do but laugh? (Oh, and I did get a real apology.)

...the last time

I can't remember when I first starting helping out at the track meets at Podunk High, but it was many years ago. Nor can I remember when it was that someone asked me if I would mind announcing--the regular wasn't available, and no one else was willing. I knew close to nothing about scores, heats, flights, final calls, and open pits, but it didn't matter. I wasn't afraid of speaking into the microphone, and that's what counted.

Before long, I was the regular announcer, the Voice of the Vikings. I learned to watch the field and judge when to call the next event, keep an eye on the head coach (someone always wants to talk to the head coach), listen to requests from the hand-held radio, all while sharing stories and laughs with the scorers in the booth. There was the time that I forgot to turn my mic off and broadcast something far and wide that should have been kept between the ladies and me. There was another time that I asked everyone to help place the hurdles on the orange marks. A cantankerous coach from a neighboring school bellowed up at me, "They're FLESH colored!" I wanted to ask him to look around and tell me just whose flesh was the color of those orange marks--but I refrained myself. For several years after, "They're FLESH colored!" was all it took to set the booth crew giggling. My children both participated in track, and I had a birds-eye view of all their events. It was perfectly ok to lean out the window to cheer them on--sans microphone, of course! (I wonder if anyone noticed the change of inflection in my voice while announcing the winners when one of them scored in the ribbons? It couldn't be helped.)

I announced my last track meet today. The season isn't quite over for the kids, but this was the last home meet. Next year, someone else gets to be "The Voice of the Vikings." I hope they enjoy the job as much as I did.

..spring? Maybe?

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(I have no idea who gets credit for this, but it fits NE Oregon to a T!)

..evening rides

The sun is shining. The wind's not blowing (much). Sunset isn't until 7:38. Guess where I'll be at 5:30?

...taking a leap

My students have been told. The letter has been turned in. It's official. I'm super excited and scared silly all at the same time. Next year...drumroll...I will be teaching English at an all-girl school in Abu Dhabi! Whew!

There's a lot of history accumulated in 22 years in a district, especially such a small one. We have three schools--one each of elementary, middle, and high. I've worked in two of the buildings, and worked with folks from the third. As I said last fall, it's been time for me to move on for a long time, but my rut was getting pretty dang comfortable. The closer I got to retirement age...the more I was afraid I would turn into "one of those teachers" that others wonder about: "Isn't she about ready to retire?" "I don't know, but I sure wish she would!" So, to save myself from that fate (and others from having to work with a curmudgeonette) I decided to take a huge leap...and go somewhere totally different. Here, I teach students to speak English. (But I also speak Spanish.) There, I will teach students to speak English. (And I don't know a word of Arabic--yet.)

I broke the news to my students today, and their reactions were endearing. No doubt about it, I love these kids and will miss them. But I fall in love with kids year after year--and then they graduate and move on...and we all survive the transition. We will weather this change as well. I asked them to give me advice. One wrote "Keep a gun at your side at all times!" (Ummm...no.) Another expressed concern that my skin would get too brown. (Not a chance--I'd burn and peel repeatedly.) A girl worried that the food would be strange--what would I eat?? Most of them advised me to have fun, enjoy the adventure, and to never forget them. Good advice.

...spring break

I'm tired. The kids are squirrely.

There's not much creativity nor patience left in me. It's time for a change of pace, to rest, relax, and do something different for a few days. Ahhhh, spring break! (Starting right after I finish announcing the first home track meet tomorrow afternoon...)