Tuesday Slice: Learning to play again

 

play

1 of 2

verb

ˈplā 

played; playing; plays

Synonyms of play

intransitive verb

1

a

: to engage in sport or recreation : frolic

--definition from Merriam Webster Online Dictionary

Slowly but surely, 

I am learning to play again

    Try something new, without fear of judgement

    Poking and looping and laughing

    Making mistakes without consequences

I am learning to play again

    Rip and cut, tear and glue, repeat

    Allowing time to pass without need for a product

    Choosing I Can over I Should

I am learning to play again 

    With bright colors to reflect the heat

    Lifting my mood with patterns and comfort

    Applying lipstick to match, just because

Play will be an important theme for this last trimester of living!

I am finally taking my own advice from a book I read back in 2014!  You can read a bit about it from my blogpost about Play, by Stuart Brown.

Tuesday Slice: RIP, dishtowel pillows

 

♪♫"Mother Necessity, where would we be..."♫♪

Our guest room in our three-bedroom home was occupied by our eldest after the birth of our second child decades ago.  Not wishing to make out-of-town guests sleep on the floor, we got rid of the living room sectional I purchased while still in college and replaced it with a sturdy futon couch and chair set.  We're not talking the rickety futons of game rooms and frat houses; these pieces are made of sturdy tropical hardwood with coil-spring mattresses, which we replaced a few years ago with a generous tax refund. Three people could sleep fairly comfortably when all the pieces were unfolded.

The arms of the couch were a problem, though.  There are slats on the sides where the remote would fall through, and we were used to having softer places to rest our arms.  Being a thrifty, crafty housewife back in the day without access to the internet or Amazon, but with access to a sewing machine that wasn't yet covered with dust, I headed to Wallyworld, bought some dishtowels and pillow stuffing, and created simple bolster pillows to soften the ends of the couch and keep the remote from straying.

Those pillows have been through baby rocking, lots of naps, illnesses, and visitors.  They have been washed multiple times a year, resulting in clumps and bumps in their stuffing.  The gingham on two of the pillows is beginning to fade a bit.  It was time to level up to real bolsters.  Kohls happened to have 12in x 20in inserts, and pillow shams that match our futon covers.

My plans are to rip apart the seams, toss the old stuffing, and used the towels for their intended purpose or add them to my husband's rag pile.  But first, I'm going to take a moment to thank my old self for her ingenuity, and for the support these pillows have lent to our tired bodies over the years.

Our old, lumpy dishtowel pillows

Firm, new bolster pillows!

Tuesday Slice: New year no longer

 

I was in a funk again, yesterday.  The feeling was echoed by a fellow recent retiree in a text, saying that the first day back for teachers was hitting her harder than the first day back for librarians.  I responded that it made sense; she was missing the sense of community, the dopamine hit we get when we're greeted by smiles from people who appreciate our work.

But as a I puttered around all afternoon, accomplishing little to nothing, I thought it had to be more than just that.  I went to bed early, still feeling out of sorts.  When I woke up this morning, it hit me.

It's the calendar.

I would venture to say that for most of the working world, the new year starts on January first.  If your job is heavy on money management, it may begin in July or October--the beginning of your fiscal year.

For those of us who served in education, our new year has been in August or September for DECADES, even if you're a first year teacher.

Think about it:  we spend thirteen to fourteen years following a school calendar in (Pre)K through twelfth grade.  Then we spend another four years or more following the university calendar as we get our degree. There's a minimum of seventeen years of fall starts and summer breaks.

As educators, we step into the same calendar system we lived by as children.

I was an educator for thirty-three years. That's forty-nine years of living by the school calendar (I graduated with my undergrad in three years, if the math isn't mathing for you).

I was out of education for six years during that stretch, but my children attended preschool and I did some tutoring, so technically, we were living by the school calendar for at least half of that time, too.

Is it any wonder that retired educators feel out of sorts when that first August rolls around without the beginning of year fanfare?  It's like New Year's Eve without the champagne, countdown, and kisses.  We're missing the opportunity of starting anew alongside treasured colleagues and eager students. 

It's time to learn to celebrate what we've accomplished and start over whenever we want to, no matter what the calendar says.  

Tuesday Slice: Not yet ready for used to be

 

I am not there for the soft entry, the smiles,

the "How was your summer?" and "Loved the pics of your vacation!".

I am not there to hunt for a seat near an outlet, knowing my laptop still needs to charge.

I am not there for the new tee shirt, the long agenda, the fresh coffee and breakfast tacos.

I am not there with a fresh new planner, filling in dates of meetings and holidays and book fairs.

I am not there for the updates, legal (hopefully better news) and software glitch fixes.

I am not there for the new books, the new budgets, the new resources--or the lack of the latter.

I am not there, and no one is there in my place, either.

I am not there because I chose not to be there...but I am not yet ready for used to be.

***********

It is the first day back for school librarians in my district, and they will all be meeting together to look at the year ahead.  I retired at the end of last year, and that position has yet to be filled, along with several other library postings; I may be subbing in a few of those until librarians are found.  This hasn't happened in the decade-plus years I served behind the circulation desk. I think teacher pay incentives (TIA, here in Texas) which result in salaries higher than a librarian earns, as well job uncertainty as neighboring districts cut librarian positions, may be to blame.  

I miss my library and teacher colleagues.  I miss the hope and optimism behind planning the scope and sequence for the year, embedding read-alouds and research lessons.  I consider myself a realistic optimist, but today, I will have to remind myself why I chose to retire, and those reasons aren't so rosy--or I would still be there, after all.

 

Tuesday Slice: The old me still sparks joy, makeup edition

 

I know I need to get rid of a lot of stuff...a LOT.  

My Virgo daughter, with an older-than-dirt soul, wisely advises me to start with what she calls "low-hanging fruit"--stuff that's easy to get rid of because it's old, not useful anymore, doesn't fit.  So this week I decided to organize my vanity, which has been overflowing with a hodgepodge of makeup, jewelry, hair accessories, perfumes and lotions.  Tired of digging through it all to find what I want each day, I purchased clear plastic stacking drawers to separate everything into easy-to-reach categories.

Old, gunky lotions and creams were easy to toss, as was skincare beyond its prime.  But then I got to the makeup...

All it took was a relative's Christmas gift of two fancy makeup palettes, and I was hooked.  Coordinating eyeshadows, blushes, and lip colors for day wear and evening wear.  What more could an 80s girl, who had a Bic lighter for the sole purpose of melting the Maybelline eyeliner before application, ask for?

Those palettes, along with the standard issue Cover Girl eyeshadow quads, went to college with me.  An aunt who kept her Avon lady busy supplied me with even more, including a folding take-along set that included mascara and a mirror.  Bonne Bell Lipsmackers made way for lipsticks in every shade and formulation, from matte to glossy.

And I threw very little of it away, through the years.  So there they were, those day and night palettes and eyeshadow quads, hiding behind the door to a cabinet I couldn't even reach because of the stuff that had piled up in front of it.  Looking once more at the glittery colors and half-used blushes took me back to when putting on makeup really was just for fun.  I was less worried then about dark circles under my eyes, melasma and enlarged pores.  It was more about the color than the concealment.  

I really like that part of the old me; those memories spark joy, to quote Marie Kondo.  But the older, wiser me isn't ready to risk eye infections from decades-old shadows, or worse from the lip colors.  It was sad to see them all piled up in the trash, but I knew they had to go.  I'll give a wink to that teenager still somewhere inside of me as I apply my makeup today, spending more time on those undereye circles...

(Oh, and I kept that Avon folding palette, not to use, but just for funsies.  Do they even make anything like that anymore?)

Folding Avon palette!

So compact!  

Night look

Day look

This was so much fun to play with!

Love the shimmers

Ah, the good old CG quads

Estee Lauder!

I loved these shades!

Tuesday Slice: Cartoons, current events, and curriculum

 

Oliphant....Oliphant...why did I know that name?

Oliphant appeared in the "Passage" portion of the "CBS Sunday Morning" show, where they memorialize important and famous people who died the previous week.  

Was it eighth grade, or ninth?  I was fortunate to be in a DoDDS school in Germany those years, with amazing teachers and daily access to "The Stars & Stripes" newspaper.  One of those teachers had us combing the paper each evening for political cartoons by Pat Oliphant and op-ed columns by William F. Buckley, Jr and William Safire.  If any of those pieces were present, we were expected to read and respond to them in our notebooks and be prepared to discuss them the next day.  We were also required to cut out news articles from at least three different continents a week and glue them into our notebooks.

Since the news was constantly changing, and Oliphant, Buckley and Safire were not daily contributors, these lessons could not be planned.  The discussions were not "gotcha" exercises; curiosity about the topics and well-thought-out questioning was encouraged. As a seasoned educator, I can look back and admire those assignments as relevant and timely critical thinking lessons.  I feel like I knew a lot more about world events back then, and at a greater depth.

Did we still cover the curriculum?  I'm sure we did.  I'm also sure that it wasn't as jam-packed as today's scope and sequence, and it certainly wasn't scripted.  Those highly trained teachers were trusted to do what they were trained to do, with their own creative tweaks--like tuning adolescents into the pulse of the world by reading the newspaper each night.  I am grateful for the education I received under their care.

William F. Buckley, Jr, courtesy of PBS

Cartoon by Oliphant, June 1973

William Safire, courtesy of Simon & Schuster

Tuesday Slice: Selling, not buying

 

The back-to-school retail ads and emails have begun.  I will admit, I perused the Mead Store on the 'zon, looking at their collection of notebooks and journals. There are a few notebooks and stationery items sitting in my cart...

...but this is the year I need to sell, not buy.  There are four tubs and at least as many piles of teaching materials and decor sitting in my living room, waiting to leave the premises.  Some, like the sequencing cards I bought at the teacher store last summer, have never been opened, since I was taken off of specials rotation last school year and didn't need to have as many activities to offer in the library.  I have bulletin board supplies, alphabet bean bags, bins and baskets and books that I am ready to sell at rock-bottom prices to teachers needing to outfit their classrooms.  The only decision I have left is whether to hold an old-fashioned garage sale in the coming weeks, or take a stab at Facebook Marketplace.

I'm not sure exactly what the future holds for employment opportunities, so I haven't severed all ties with educational email feeds and social media follows.  But I can say that the prospect of shrugging off the mantle of the past thirty-three years is something I am definitely looking forward to.  

Tuesday Slice: Lunching with the ladies

 

The meet-ups always seem to last for three hours.

Two hours in, the food has been eaten, leftovers boxed up.  Servers have refilled our water and tea, delivered and collected the check with a decent tip.  Still we chatter on, talking about work, books, health, kids;  money and retirement plans; the state of education, of government, of employment opportunities.  The phones only come out to look something up, share a picture, add to a TBR pile.  As the last hour winds down, we talk about how great it has been to sit like this, uninterrupted by work and family responsibilities.  We make vague, hopeful plans to do this again soon.

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

One month after officially retiring, these meals have been bright spots in the murky middle between the last job and the next steps.  I value my friendships with these women.  The one-on-one time outside of work settings reaffirms that we have connections that transcend shared careers and decades-old experience.  Maybe now that I am taking back my time and energy, I can focus on expending both in continuing these soul-filling conversations.

Photo by Kaboompics, negativespace.co

Tuesday Slice: Red and blue in the backyard

The cardinal waited for a moment

     on the trapeze swing

     before making a play

     flying onto the feeder

     next to the dove, who brushed

     him away, to find a bug elsewhere.

Meanwhile, a bluejay waited for a moment

     in the bare tree above

     before making a play

     flying onto the slide's end

     next to a squirrel, who ignored

     him, letting him nab a peanut. 

Tuesday Slice: The nose wiggle

Those of us of a certain age remember the nose wiggle.  If you were like me, you practiced it in the mirror.

I woke up today at 230a, a list of tasks running through my brain, seemingly unending.  Laundry, major decluttering, putting together a garage sale for all of my now-unnecessary teaching materials and classroom decor, scheduling medical appointments, meeting up with friends, catching up on journaling and filling in my planner and writing thank-you notes and meal-planning....you get the idea.

I really wanted to nose-wiggle it done.  One twitch, and the mountain of clothes disappears.  Another, and my job applications are submitted.  Third twitch, and the menus would be filled in through August.

Alas, the nose twitching didn't produce any such effects.  I spent an hour and a half in bed, completing all of the New York Times games and starting my Amazon Prime Day cart, before my brain finally shut off enough to squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep.  The only magic happening will be the arrival of a few tubes of toothpaste and collagen for my coffee, appearing on my doorstep in a few days.

 

Tuesday Slice: Summer slug

 

Technically, I have been on summer break since May 29th.

Technically, I have also been retired from thirty-three years in public education since May 29th.

But here I am on June 16th, feeling like my summer break is just beginning.  The last three weeks of school went by in a blur of the usual end-of-year events rotating with retirement planning, parties, packing up my personal belongings, and leaving the library ready for the next caretaker, to include an eight-page document of transition information.

I treated myself to a retirement party on May 30th at The Oasis, a renowned restaurant here in Austin that overlooks Lake Travis.  It was a joyous celebration with over forty attendees from just about every stage of my educational career.  I was glowing for hours afterwards!  

No rest for the wicked, as they say, or apparently for retirees...the next day was spent doing laundry and preparing for a road trip from Dallas to Maryland, to move our daughter to where her husband has found permanent employment.  The van rental, apartment packing, and following road trip to and from lasted until this past Thursday, when we pulled into our driveway at six pm. 

Everyone who has been on a long trip knows the work that has to be done afterwards--laundry, restocking the fridge, laundry, watering the wilting plants, and more laundry.  I also have to face the mess that has evolved from bringing home my teaching stuff for the last time, as well as what we inherited from our daughter's move.

I had a certain amount of get-up-and-go for the first four days back.  The plants have mostly recovered, we have clean clothes to wear, and I cleaned a head of lettuce for salads.  Our library card needed renewing, and I checked out a just-for-me fantasy.  I put in an application for a job and spent a few hours looking for other opportunities.  The birdfeeder has been filled the last two days.  I made a brain-dump list of over forty things that need to be done, and highlighted them by importance.  I even took my son to see "Ponyo" at a theater, the start of the Ghibli Fest run of movies.

Today, though, I was barely able to pull on clothes.  I've done nothing but putter around the house.  I took an hour-long nap at eleven am.  I spent hours scrolling on my phone.  Haven't looked at the brain-dump tasks even once.  I keep giving myself a mental list of three things at a time to do, then do just one and slump down in a chair to play another game of solitaire on my phone.  Summer slug mode has finally set in...and I, for one, will fully embrace it this week.  I think I deserve at least that much.

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Every new beginning

 

Isaiah 43:18-19: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?" 

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." — Seneca

May is a month of transition, especially for educators.  The school year is wrapping up; for the oldest students, there is the moving on to the next level.  Retirement announcements from across the district arrive daily in our inboxes.  Teachers who are staying are told about their assignments for the coming year.

I'm in the retirement group this year.

Someone asked if I was going to have a photo retrospective at my upcoming retirement party.  I thought about it for a moment, but decided the effort wasn't worth the emotional return.  I am not the same person I was 39 years ago when I started teaching.  I am happy to celebrate a three-decade long career, and I am grateful for the experience I've gained along the way.  I'm excited to see where this hard-earned knowledge will lead to next.  There's more work to be done--I am ready to do a new thing!

There are those in my circles who are facing much more difficult transitions--losing spouses, losing children.  Grief isn't prescriptive or linear.  The heart will dwell on the past as long as it sees fit.  At some point, though, there are beginnings, however bittersweet. First birthdays, holidays, gatherings in this new reality.  One foot in the shadow of loss, one foot in the sunshine that springs up, unbidden. You learn to honor the past without dwelling in it.

Today, I'm going to choose to be happy and grateful for the new things on my horizon.

What is ending for you, and what new beginnings does it bring?

What do you wish would end, and what do you wish would come next in your journey?

SOLSC '26 Day Thirty-one: Here's to fourteen years of trying

 

Thirty-one days, thirty-one posts for the

Slice of Life Story Challenge.

Fourteen years!

I had to go to my other blogging platform to double check the date, and there it was, thirty-one posts in March of 2013.  I've let that platform gather dust, but this one...at the very least, it gets shined up each March.

Fourteen years.  It's longer than any job I've performed, or campus where I was located.  It's longer than most habits I've attempted to establish, except for brushing my teeth and making my bed.

I decided to take a peek at my first year of participating.  In 2013 we were challenged to write about life outside of the classroom.  Here are the first ten topics I wrote about:

1)  Shopping for yarn

2)  The school carnival

3)  Morning quiet time

4)  What I live for

5)  Birthday gifts

6)  Technology woes

7)  Wonky week before Spring Break

8)  Saying goodbye before Spring Break

9)  The pride of a military BRAT

10)  My messy, but functional, home

Other than shopping for yarn (I've forced myself to use what I've got these days), I could still write about all of these topics!  In fact, I'm pretty sure I've duplicated several of them over the years.

Back then, I wrote really long posts.  Now, not so much.  Do I have less to say, or am I just getting better at being pithy?  Either way, I'm glad this is one habit that has stuck.  Looking forward to number fifteen in 2027.  And congratulations to all you Slicers who stuck it out with me in 2026!