Tuesday Slice: Hydrotherapy

H20

Hot under the collar

Overwhelmed

Out of sorts

Holiday frenzy

Overtired

Out of patience

Headache

Overworked muscles

Out of steam

Hot shower

Over the day

Out like a light.

 

Tuesday Slice: The waves and smiles

 

I don't often write about work on this platform, maybe because I have another blog on which I post twice weekly about reading and library happenings.  But with a lack of other fleshed-out ideas, a work post it is.

I get smiles and waves in the hallway.

I know, I'm not the only educator that gets this attention.  But think about what this means.  This isn't just a nod to popularity.

Our students choose to send those smiles and waves our way.  It's not the same as the perfunctory greeting we elicit at the door, or the thanks that teachers prompt on the way out of the library.  Those smiles and waves are genuine (unless they're being used as a ruse for more thought-out shenanigans, but that's rare in my elementary school).

In my unique position as the campus librarian, I come in contact with every single student, every single week.  First and foremost, I want them to see me as a safe, reliable adult who welcomes them into an inclusive space of literacy, learning, and exploration.  There are days where the behavior and attitude of some students, and sometimes my behavior in response, makes me feel like I am failing at my task.

And then I get the smiles and waves, and I know I'm getting it right at least some of the time. So I always take the time to smile and wave back. 

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Slow the pace

Bob has given us our theme of acceptance and change this month,

with the following questions:

So, friends, I ask you how do you slow down? What helps you focus on you well-being and that of others around you. What little changes do you make in your life that can affect others?

The collective unconscious must be clamoring for calm, a break from the chaos this season, because I've been drawn to three different practices for just such a purpose.

1) I am reading Calm Christmas by Beth Kempton.  It is a guide for honing in on what your spirit really wants and needs during the holiday season--not what the commercials say you need, or your hundred-year-old family traditions, for that matter.  It's a lovely small book that is easy to read a bit, then ponder a bit...and then maybe cross off an item or two on your to-do list.

2)  I receive weekly emails from Ami Kunimura, founder of The Self-Care Institute.  This Wednesday's post gave us four tips for managing holiday stress.  The first two are my favorites:  "pace yourself", and "honor your personal boundaries."  Ami gives us permission to save some time and energy for our own personal needs.

3)  I am filling in the Cultivate What Matters Advent edition of their Write the Word journal.  Each morning, I write a note of gratitude, look up the assigned Scripture in my Bible, copy the lines, write a reflection, and choose a word to carry through the day.  The whole process takes me fifteen or so minutes, but it is a calming and centering routine that connects me to the hopeful, peaceful anticipation of the liturgical season.  

The calm I feel through these practices gives me the patience to manage problems as they arise at work and home.  I can choose to absorb only news that affects and informs me, and take time instead to enjoy a scented candle, baking my favorite cookies, wrapping gifts for family and friends.

May this Advent be less a season of chaos and stress, and more opportunities to breathe, be still, and believe in the hope that came to life on Christmas morning.

Tuesday Slice: Last days of November

 

We have a benignly strict tradition in our house, carried forward from my own childhood restriction:  no Christmas music until Santa arrives at the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade.  It's a rule that has come to mean more to me as I've gotten older, to reserve the November holiday for family, and food, and giving thanks before the jolly Christmas mayhem begins.

A good tradition, yes....but I've been Christmas shopping since July.  Without the music, I promise, but there have been gifts set aside for quite awhile.

Did that stop me from taking advantage of online sales last Friday?  Nope.

Did I do even more damage to my credit card on Cyber Monday?  Yep.

Are we still in November?  Another confirmed yes, according to the Sandra Boynton calendar on my kitchen pantry door.

It's hard to think of the days after Thanksgiving, up to December first, as November.  November is brown, leaves falling, turkey basting, the smell of sage stuffing and apple pie baking.  December is sparkling red and green and white, pop carols on the radio, wrapping paper on the living room floor, gingerbread in the oven...except, wait, all that is happening, and it's...still...November.

Thank goodness this situation will be set aright when I flip that calendar page on Thursday.

Tuesday Slice: Sweater weather, at last!

 

Shivering, I

Work my arms into

Each warm, soft sleeve

Admiring the pattern as I

Turn down the heater a bit

Enveloped in my own, climate-controlled

Relief from the cold.

Winter is just around the corner,

Each cool breeze a prelude, nudging

Autumn out of the way

The morning frost isn't far behind

Helped along by the lengthening night

Enveloping my smoky breath

Rising from sweater-warmed lungs.

Tuesday Slice: A day off

 

Today, there will be writing, and planning, and reading.

Today, there will be laundry, and dusting, and cleaning.

Today, there will be music, and yarnwork, and holiday prepping.

I will be doing my best to avoid the television and computer screen.

I have already cast my ballot.

The results can wait until tomorrow.

Today, in solitude, I will breathe deeply and often.

(Today, I will cross my fingers.)

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Hallowed ground

 

Fran Haley has prompted the writing circle with the idea

of "holy" this month.  You can read her post, and the group's

linked posts, here.

I'm not sure when exactly it happened.  After my first child?  My second? 

Whenever it happened...I surprised myself.

The Sign of the Cross is the tell of a Christian raised in the Roman Catholic Church.  We dab our fingers in holy water and cross ourselves as we enter sanctuaries, making the Sign again and again throughout Mass, blessing ourselves as we exit.  Beyond chapel walls, the Sign begins and ends prayer (most often at the dining table).

I wasn't familiar with the tradition of making the Sign in the presence of other spaces until high school.  A friend, fellow Catholic with Latinx roots, urged me to cross myself as we passed churches and graveyards--to ward off evil and solicit blessings, she said.  That habit followed me for many years, despite my gradual departure from the Church of my youth.

I was still a fairly regular attendee of Sunday Mass when it happened--the urge, and follow-through, to make the Sign of the Cross while driving past...a hospital.

Not just any hospital.  The one where my children were born. Even more specifically, the hospital that bore witness to my less-than-ideal deliveries.  The hospital where angels-on-earth saved my twenty-six-week premature firstborn, cared for me through a miscarriage, and safely delivered my son, saving my life in the process.  The hospital that allowed me to ensure that another pregnancy wouldn't endanger my life again, to continue mothering my children.

The memories of giving birth in the presence of such care, compassion, and competence fill me with awe and reverence, not unlike entering a grand cathedral with a golden tabernacle.

Is it any wonder, then, that my hand goes to my forehead, heart, shoulders as I pass that building?  I utter a silent prayer of gratitude for the caregivers within and the blessings they gave me on that hallowed ground.  

Tuesday Slice: Except for the mosquitoes

 

The weather has been pleasantly cool(er) these past few evenings. Looking out our window, we spied our costumed neighbor and her friend setting up chairs in the driveway to pass out treats.  "We could do that, too," said my husband.  "We could," I replied.  We made sure our chocolate and non-chocolate containers were full, gathered our water jugs, and headed to the front porch.

We were visited by several swarms of children, many of whom are my students.  It was fun to hear them tell their parents "That's my librarian!" as they headed down the sidewalk.

We were also visited by several mosquitoes.

I can't imagine what I looked like, brushing at my face and arms at the slightest sensation, standing up suddenly and swatting the air like a windmill as two or three of those flying bloodsuckers passed within my field of vision.

We didn't get as many trick-or-treaters this year.  I wonder why....

Tuesday Slice: Accidental success

 

I can't share an elevator

with Tina Fey

because our dogs don't get along.

She and her husband 

are wonderful people, though.

When I was nine, 

I wanted to write comics.

My classmates told me

my drawing sucked.

So I started typing stories instead.

Here we are, thirty years of the series.

Magic Tree House is thirty, too!

Mary Pope Osborne and I are friends.

I never planned to write for kids.

But I ended up at Scholastic,

writing social studies magazines.

Then a humor magazine.  

Remember "Bananas"?

I was asked to write YA horror.

I hadn't done that before, 

had to read some before I started.

I changed my name 

from Robert to R.L.

just like S.E. Hinton.

The first book was a hit.

And the second.

Remember Fear Street?

I was asked to write scary books for kids.

Here we are, 300 books later!

In the beginning, I was writing a book

every. two. weeks.

Not anymore.

I write ten pages a day.

My editors help keep me straight,

tell me if I've done that bit before.

Writing is easy...

if you write the outline first.

I outline the entire book, 

beginning, middle end.

Then the writing part is easy!

Have fun!  Enjoy it!

Not one word comes from my heart.

I entertain people!

Thanks for thirty years of Goosebumps, Bob.

Image and paraphrased anecdotes from a Zoom visit sponsored by 

Sam Houston Stare University Library Science Department.

Tuesday Slice: Mind-full words

 

To get through this

I need more of this

and, maybe,

an appointment with a

therapist.

Tuesday Slice: Weeding

 

Books only come to life

if they are read, I tell myself,

as I spy old favorites

strewn across the

library tables.

The report ran hundreds

of pages long

Books that were sitting

on the shelves, 

barely touched, if at all.

Five or six dozen at a time,

they are displayed for a week

Every student and teacher 

encouraged to look there first,

rescue them if they need

to be brought to life again.

There are a few I rescue, 

knowing they still fit 

within our curriculum.

After the last class on Friday,

we box up the remainder

and send them on

to the warehouse

for someone else

to breathe life into the stories.

Spiritual Journey Thursday: In memory of

 

I am providing the prompt for our Spiritual Thursday writing group this month:

"In memory of..."

As the ephemera for Dia de los Muertos multiplies in stores and decor it 

occurs to me

I have no family plot

My grandparents interred

in their urns to the north

Relatives buried or burned

from coast to coast

My own mother

five-hundred-eighty-three miles

to the west

(Unlike my husband's side--he

took me to his family's cemetery

as a means of introduction)

And just like that, an ofrenda makes sense.

Photo from Wikimedia Commons

As a child, Halloween was all about the costume and the candy, followed by obligatory attendance of Mass for All Saints Day.  When my mother passed just months after my thirtieth birthday, my focus began to shift to the true meaning of these holy days and the ancient need for connecting with our ancestors that precedes Church.  I find myself yearning for signs, dreams, anything that forms even the thinnest of links with loved ones who have left the mortal plane.  

And then a memory popped up in my Facebook feed.  

Maybe those links are there in the crochet chains and stitches, in the afghan on my bed, the pictures on the wall, my mother's hands becoming my own.   

An ofrenda surrounds me in art, recipes, handiwork.  I just need to pause, notice, and give thanks...and light a candle or two.

Tuesday Slice: Let it burn

 

The cough has been coming on for a few days, but the fever didn't hit until Saturday night.  Just a smidge under a hundred; I wasn't feeling too prickly, so I took a Mucinex for the cough and headed to bed.

I woke up at seven-thirty, dizzy as soon as I sat up.  Checking my temperature a few minutes later confirmed my suspicion--I was a smidge over one hundred.  After making my coffee, I settled in for a day on the couch, getting up to rehydrate, check my temp, and take a COVID test, which was negative (whew).

The thermometer kept bouncing between ninety-nine and a hundred all day.  I was hoping it would burn itself out, but the thermometer read one hundred point four after my four-thirty alarm on Monday morning, prompting a text to admin and a sick day entry on the absence portal.

Monday came and went in a haze of PBS shows, some light reading, and feeding a returning appetite.  Temps continued to remain below a hundred...would I get to go to work on Tuesday?  The intermittent coughing decided to become more constant at bedtime. After a midnight trip to the kitchen for more meds, I bunked on the couch, propped up by pillows and hopefully out of earshot of my sleeping husband.

The four-thirty alarm was brutal...but temps are below a hundred, and sub plans are a pain in the rear.  Off to work I go, with cough drops in my pocket.

Tuesday Slice: Taking a day or three

 

I've been in a funk as of late.  The kind of funk that lays like a mantle on my shoulders, eyelids heavy, the corners of my mouth just a little harder to push up those cheeks that make my eyes smile above the facemask that I work so hard to color-coordinate with my work clothes.

I knew I needed to take a day off, but when?  Checkout weeks are best, when only the littlest students get a read-aloud...and this week is a checkout week.  Two weeks away was just too long after the July workdays I had, followed by a full August and equally full September.  It had to be this week.  So I took a deep breath, texted my local substitute who loves the library, and was thrilled when she said yes.  I emailed my office secretary to put in the sub for me.

Emboldened, I logged into the employee absence site and took TWO more days off!  The library will be closed on those days due to hearing and vision screenings, so I won't even need a substitute.  We'll be coming off of a weekend of helping our daughter and son-in-law move into a new apartment, and this will keep us from rushing back down the highway.

So what will I do on my day off this week?  I'll savor an extra cup of coffee, read a bit, crochet a bit, and finally make those medical appointments I've been meaning to follow up on.  They will lead to a few more days off, I'm sure, but with over ninety days in my leave bank, I'm sure I can spare a few for my well being.

I'm feeling pretty good about these acts of self-care right now...but ask me how I'm feeling after I spend hours on the sub plans.

Tuesday Slice: TV's siren call

 

Image from enkivillage.com

I was supposed to be

   doing some chores

but the season premieres were on.

I was supposed to be

   taking a nice hot shower

but the season premieres were on.

I was supposed to be 

   writing a thoughtful post

but the season premieres were on.

I was supposed to be

   getting ready for bed

but the season premiers were on.

I was supposed to be

   in bed by 930p

but...

(you know how it ends.  Yawn.)

Tuesday Slice: Begin with the here and now

 

Some say begin with the end in mind

And goals are good

pointing the way

giving us a sense of direction

But goals are as far away as

this afternoon

this evening

this weekend

next week

next month

next year

another job

another place

another--dare we say it--body

A goal is

a mathematical ray

on a flat plane

moveable

in three-hundred-sixty degrees

but the starting point remains the same

the ray doesn't exist

without that fixed point

We are here

It is now

we must reckon with

wrestle with

acknowledge

truth-full-y

plans be damned

goals evolving 

as the weather

and circumstances

and knowledge

and bodies

change

We must begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop.

Credits:  

"Begin with the end in mind."--Franklin Covey

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop."--Lewis Carroll

Tuesday Slice: Always learning

 

There are days when I feel

like I have learned a lot

in my lifetime

(the natural consequence

of fifty-six years of living)

And then

 there are days when I feel

like I have so much to learn

(the natural consequence

of living with others)

When someone I think I know

reveals a new secret from their past

When a story in a book

has a lesson that's different than

what I learned in school

When a child, flesh of my flesh

speaks their own adult truth

When a scientist explains

that tides don't go in and out

When an important detail

about a student's life

is shared, explaining everything

When someone else's common knowledge

is not common to me

(or the other way around)

When a loved one says

"We need to talk"

The learning continues

whether I want it to

or not.

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Community

 

Maureen has given us the prompt of "community"

this month.  You can read her post, and

links to responses, on her Blogger site.

How big does a community have to be?  

I ask because I recently finished a middle grade fiction novel, A Kind of Spark, by Elle McNicoll.  The main character, Addie, is autistic, and finds it difficult and exhausting to relate to the people at school and in her town.  But she has an older sister, Keedie, who is also autistic; she completely understands Addie's struggles, and helps her navigate them.  They have a "particular characteristic in common" and a "feeling of fellowship" with each other--a community of two.

Does a community have to live together?

I ask because technology, particularly platforms like Facebook, have become virtual communities.  Yes, social media can falsely portray perfect lives with poreless skin and spotless homes, but my circles (and I) are getting better at sharing the foibles as well as the celebrations.  It's become the backyard chatting fence with people living on other schedules and in different time zones.

How important is community?

I would hope we would all answer this question with a resounding "oh, so very important!"  We know this from nature, like Maureen's example of the forest's root network, the trees "speaking" to one another and sustaining growth.  We know this from ancient history; our species survived and thrived because of community, as Margaret Mead pointed out when asked about the first sign of civilization.   We know this as educators, our students achieving more when there is a sense of community in the classroom, in the school--and on our IB-PYP campus, with the world.  This post wouldn't exist without the community of writers who come together once a month to explore spirituality together.

**********************************

I sometimes struggle with community, as an introvert.  There is an innate need to participate in common activities and a desire to help others...but being around others for too long, being "on",  is exhausting, becoming more so as I age.  I really appreciate my online communities, which allow me to participate at my own level and on my own time.

Tuesday Slice: The new kid, or one of the possible reasons I became a librarian

 

I know, really know

what it's like to be 

the new kid in school

eight first days

in eight different places

If I was lucky

the school was filled with

military BRATs like me

so we were all new

or almost-new

knowing we would 

only be together 

for a short while

and totally fine with that

But sometimes

I was the only 

world traveler

explaining to my classmates

what continents are

wondering why we 

were being taught what

I already knew

learned from a system that

was always one step ahead

Eight times new

eight times looking 

for the familiar

in a place never seen before

almost always finding it

in the library.

Tuesday Slice: Decisions, decisions

 

When to get up

(should I hit the snooze, or not?)

When to stop reading

How long to exercise

When to stop scrolling

Should I shampoo today?

What soap to use

Does this look good?

What earrings to wear

Eat first, or feed the birds?

What to eat

Which lunch to take

What mask to wear

Which station to listen to

What parking space to take

Is there time to log in before duty?

Words to use with colleagues

Words to use with students

Which tasks take priority

What to keep and what to discard

How to arrange things

How to teach a skill

How to assess a skill

How to keep students engaged

Which behavior to address

Which behavior to ignore

Do we have time for one more activity

What books to purchase

What's the lesson order

What's the read-aloud order

Where should labels go

How to organize a kit

Should I send the email now, or later

Will this help my colleagues

Will this help my students

Should I book this author

Should I eat this treat

Do I have time for a bathroom break

How should I spend this budget money

Is there time to make these IDs

How do we tackle this big kit processing

Who should get these materials

Do I help kindergarten first, or first grade

Should I shut down the computer and go home

Do I need my umbrella

Should I listen to music or keep it quiet

Water the plants first, or start laundry

What to eat for dinner

Practice Japanese or Spanish

Read, or write, or nap, or.....

zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Tuesday Slice: New furniture, new (temporary) schedule

Yesterday morning, the library was filled with the rolling sound of pallet wheels, the crinkling and tearing of unwrapping, the stacking of chairs, whirring power screwdrivers, the thud of heavy furniture gently hitting the carpeted floor.

Three hours and many mini discussions about placement later, our updated library was tentatively in order.  

This is just phase two; phase three will involve moving wall and floor shelves, rearranging the flat panel and tables, and painting the walls of the main space--and hopefully a mural!

Our technology support teacher and I learned last Thursday that we will be covering the music teacher time slot until we have that position filled.  We do not have to teach music, thank goodness--the students would get tired of singing, my only instrument!  It does mean that for the first time in ten years, I will have students in the library on the first day of school for half the day, without their classroom teachers present.  So this space needs to be cleaned up, pronto!

Here's wishing a bright and successful school opening for all my fellow educators.