Packing Up

My school district is going through a big year of changes....closing one of the oldest school buildings, building on to the newer schools in town and shuffling the grades and attendance centers around. It kind of feels like a game of "Musical Teachers". As the numbers enrolled from grade to grade fluctuates a lot, it seems like the teachers are required to migrate around from building to building and grade to grade. Many teachers got bumped to another grade level. I was one of the fortunate ones that only got bumped to another building.

I felt lucky...until I started to pack up my classroom. Having taught in this room for three years, I had no idea how much stuff I was accumulating. Not junk, but stuff that little people need in order to learn to spell, do math and understand science.  The more I sorted and boxed, the more there seemed to be. It reminded me of one of those giant salads I order at a restaurant that seems to grow bigger as I eat.

Several days after school got out for the summer, my packing was complete and my bright and cheerful little classroom has been reduced to piles of boxes in the middle of the classroom. It's sad for me to say goodbye to Page. I feel sentimental because it's where I attended elementary school, plus all three of my children went there. This room was actually my old first grade classroom. I will miss seeing my Page friends on a daily basis. 

Change is hard, but I know change can be good. It's time to go make some new memories and Bloom where I am Planted.

No More Pilates

Perry's hobby is smoking. Smoking meat that is. When he is preparing pork loin on the smoker, he is ALL business. There is an urgency about his mannerisms and tone of voice when he is smoking meat. Preparing pork loin in great quantities for Ben's graduation party only magnified this quirky trait of his. He has quite a collection of tools that he dramatically arranges around him for meat preparation...Trays, rolls of foil, assortments of rubs, spices, and even a scary looking syringe for injecting marinade into the meat. In fact, his tone of voice even resembles that of a surgeon when he is at work. "Scapel!... Paper towels!....Foil pan!.... Stat!" 

Ok, I'm exaggerating, but only a little.

He also loves nothing more than the ceremony of the meat cutting. He has a fancy meat slicer and generally likes to have a committee of helpers around him while he operates the slicer...someone to catch the slices, someone to hold the tray, and help him sample the scraps, I suspect.

The afternoon of the graduation party, he and the meat-slicing-committee were in the garage while I put up decorations in the backyard. I heard him yelling my name again with his clipped surgeon-like tone and I rolled my eyes, wondering what he needed next. "The meat slicer keeps sliding on the table. I need something to put under it to keep it from slipping." Seconds later he followed, "I found a roll of some tan stuff that would work. Can I use that?" I happily waved and nodded, thrilled that he was able to find the Rubbermaid shelf liner. Proud of my husband for being so resourceful and marveling at his sudden ability to find household supplies, I went back to the decorations. 

A few moments later, Sam ran across the backyard with a confused look on his face. "Did you tell Dad he could cut up your Pilates mat to use under the meat slicer?" 

Sigh. I knew Perry's burst of resourcefulness was too good to be true.

Even though summer break is here and I am working out at the Y again, I can't go back to Pilates class with a 2 foot section hacked off the end of my mat. It would be too humiliating.