Tuesday Slice: Packing and pressing

What did the teacher of these students learn in training?

Photo by Corey Seeman https://www.flickr.com/photos/cseeman/8348973979

Yesterday in the library, three school nurses
Showed slides with wounds real and imagined
A leg blown off here, a bullet hole there

Facing the fairy tale section, I learned
To place a tourniquet "high to survive"
To compress a laceration without peeking

(It might disturb the clotting sequence)

Later in the science lab, three school nurses
Watched as we packed gauze strips into gouged rubber molds
Tightened a tourniquet on our own arms
Learned how to place a chest seal

(Vented on the front entry, plain on exit wound on the back)

We were assured that the techniques
Were tested and approved by The Committee
on Tactical Combat Casualty Care

Tactical.
Combat.
Casualty.

Care.

(Just for the record, this BRAT
Briefly considered a career in the armed forces
Before being dissuaded
By her military father and brother)

Maybe I didn't escape the draft after all

At what point do I go AWOL?

Tuesday Slice: Turning pages

He was sitting on the floor with a paperback picture book of Going on a Bear Hunt.  He had asked me to read it when I sat down for storytime, but I already had two books picked out to share from the library.  He acquiesced at that moment, but obviously hadn't forgotten his first choice when it came time for independent reading.

I am constantly reminding kindergarteners to turn their pages "at the corner, corner, corner", trying to avoid the tears in the middle of the page.  So when I see a pre-K student with a regular book instead of the board books I bring to share, I am extra-vigilant, just waiting for a page to be ripped.

But that didn't happen here. He sat by himself in the middle of the carpet, focused on the images and ever-so-gently turning the pages.  You could tell he was silently reading the story, if only by walking through the pictures.  I wasn't about to disturb that reverie with "at the corner, corner, corner."  

Leaving him be, I turned my attention to the table, where another insistent little boy coerced me into reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, forcibly turning the board book pages before I barely had time to finish the lines.  

Tuesday Slice: There will be fun

I am doing something just for fun this upcoming Spring Break.

I don't know exactly what it is yet, but it will be fun.  And outside of the city limits.  There will be little to no shopping --I am weaning myself off of retail therapy.  Fresh air will be involved.  Maybe some art, maybe some learning.  Definitely good food, cooked by someone else.

My husband tried to poke a hole in my spring break dreams by replying to my request for fun with the need to declutter.  I countered with the fact that the reason our home is so cluttered is that we don't plan for fun.  We just sit at our respective computers and windowshop for hours on end until packages arrive on our doorstep and clutter up the house--a habit I've successfully worked on breaking this past month.  Until we address the "why", this decluttering process will be like shoveling snow in a blizzard.

My grand experiment this year is to spend money on experiences, not stuff.  The theory is that by switching focus, the currently owned stuff will lose importance, and will be easier to part with.  I was already planning on spending two or three days of Spring Break testing that theory by cleaning house--as long as I get to play, too. 

As God is my witness, there will be fun. 

Tuesday Slice: Signs of an early spring

Coming home well before sunset

(a rarity some days)

I ignored my to-do list

After days of gloom and chill

the warmer clime of the front porch beckoned.

I sat awhile 

in the shade of the trees fully leafed

sipping a cold soda

thumbing through a catalog

reading a book

watching teenagers 

making their way home from school.

Growing restless

I decided to water the potted plants

tucked into the corner of the porch

no need to be covered this year

(only a handful of frosty mornings)

their leaves still green

soil spilled all around by persistent squirrels

Walking around the side of my house

passing my gangly rose bush

already tipped with half a dozen deep pink blooms

newly planted evergreen bushes

sprouting buds on their short branches

Returning to the porch

a ray of sunlight caught me off guard

I wanted more

So I stood in the driveway

eyes closed but flooded with bright

heat blooming on my thighs

basking in the warmth of early spring.

Tuesday Slice: An hour of gratitude

They started arriving not long after our return from Thanksgiving Break, a token here and there, becoming a flurry of presents two weeks later.  Thank yous had been said in person, brief squeezes on shoulders with heartfelt smiles in between rounds of reading stories and checking out books.  

The gifts had been moved behind the chair, to make room for the tree.  Two shopping bags full of smaller gift bags, envelopes, a few boxes, almost out of sight but not forgotten over the hectic past few weeks.  With family returned to their corners of the world, the tree was taken down this past weekend, the chair moved back to its usual place, and I could reach my holiday treasure trove.

The presents were wonderful, to be sure.  A tin of Danish cookies, snacks, scented hand creams.  A pair of reading socks.  Beautiful mugs with hot cocoa mixes.  Gift cards to my favorite stores.  Christmas all over again, in my now undecorated living room.

As I opened each gift and wrote out my thanks, I was captured most by the childish printed notes of appreciation.  "Thank you for letting us check out your books."  "Thank you for reading us good stories."  One student even asked, "If you were a child, what books would you read?"  My answer--"All the picture books in our library, because they are wonderful."

A note from a parent made me pause.  He took the time to thank me for making the library a welcome place for his child, for understanding when a book went missing, and recognized the effort it takes to be of service to over twelve hundred students.

The words were the best gifts of all.   

Tuesday Slice: Commit and Habits

I am choosing two separate words for my One Word this year, for the first time.  

Why?  To further define the boundaries between work and personal life.

My personal word came from a few sources.  Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis and the blog post on Depth Year come to mind.  I am pretty good at fulfilling promises I make to others; keeping promises I make for myself is a work in progress. My personal word is "Commit".  Commit to creating a peaceful, uncluttered home, eating healthfully, moving my body more. Commit to getting more sleep and allotting realistic amounts of time to get things done on my to-do list, instead of making unrealistic "wish lists" each day.  Commit to saving money to spend on experiences, not things.

At work, I feel overcommitted, hence the need for another word.  For work, my word will be "Habits".  I have a lot of set habits at home, especially in the morning--empty dishwasher, make coffee, pray, read--but I lack set times to complete necessary, repeating tasks that must be done to run my library program.  I'm going to work on scheduling those times so that those tasks become routine, freeing myself to focus on the creative and service aspects of my job.

Here's to a productive and fulfilling 2020!

Tuesday Slice: Joyful reunion

The morning was filled with instructions, errands, and last-minute questions for the event planner.  I silently thanked my daughter once again for making this wedding celebration easy for us.  I couldn't thank her in person because she was shopping for flowers at Trader Joe's with her husband, the trained florist/ IT guy.  He had insisted on making the centerpieces, and we were happy to oblige.  

The newlyweds returned to the chaotic energy of the household filled with five extra family members.  Her grandfather tentatively helped with flower cutting; brother and first cousin sorted and bagged KitKats brought from Japan.  Then the relatives, still tired from driving across states to be here, willingly got back in their cars to pick up more flowers and cupcakes to deliver to the restaurant, along with the guest book, candles, framed pictures and card box.  My husband left at the same time to pick up her altered dress and her husband's dry cleaned suit, leaving the couple and myself a quiet interlude to breathe.

A few hours later, our nuclear family of four plus our new(ish) son-in-law arrived at the lakeside restaurant.  My husband dropped us off so we wouldn't have to carry the centerpieces too far.  As he pulled away, I started walking and felt my shoe separate from its sole.

It's not a wedding celebration without something going wrong...right?  I shuffled into the venue and up the stairs.

The room was wonderfully appointed with the decorations we had sent on ahead.  Party coordinators greeted us and took the centerpieces to be placed on the tables.  The photographer was already there, and began taking pictures of the couple.

Extended family reappeared--my father, his wife, my uncle, my brother and his daughter--with more picture taking to mark the event.  One, two, twenty more friends and family from all across our daughter's life strolled in.  My partner teacher who was among the first to know I was pregnant twenty-six years ago.  Her NICU nurse, still a good friend.  Friends from middle school and high school.  Her college roomate.  Beloved neighbors who might as well be her grandparents.  Our favorite, welcome Thanksgiving dinner guest.  

A motley crew, to be sure, but all connected by their love for our daughter and her husband.  Laughter and smiles and conversations filled the room as we all caught up with one another or found new connections--the college roommate discussing her med school NICU rotation with the nurse, my teaching partner and my daughter's high school friend commiserating over Minnesota winters.  Toasts were made and glasses were lifted to the newlyweds' happiness.

We couldn't have asked for a better celebration.

The centerpieces now adorn our kitchen table.