Saturday, November 28, 2015

The Underneath

This fall has been tough. Our second dog died of old age. We are dogless now. Trying to get another, but disappointment after disappointment. Mom, breast cancer, but alive and doing well. My job, tiring. 600 kids coming through my room, a week, my head is spinning. I'm finding myself jealous of the cashiers at Wegmans. (Hey, it is a good job). I am better in small batches. I love to teach to the student and not so much in bulk. It took 15 years to realize this. But that's just it. As we age, we get wiser as to what's best for us.
Why is change so scary as you get older?
Today, we almost got a dog. A little black lab mixed with pointer but there were two families ahead of us at the shelter. I got myself ready to walk it in the morning, to buy the body toppling bag of dog food again, to pick up EVERYTHING off the floor. I saw the father and son who got the little guy. I'm sure they'll be great. We would be better of course.

I have been a teacher since I was 19. It was one of those things that I thought would fill the gaps. The in-betweens, you know. I like it, I do but I want something more....
So who am I to want to want more from a job? But I do.

Sometimes, when I'm on here, I click the link to "other posts you might enjoy". why thank you blogger.  I just read my post about taking my boys to see the Blue Man group. My oldest son cajoled me into buying him a red DC hoodie (read the post here) and darned if he doesn't STILL wear the thing. When I read these though, I find myself short of breath on occasion. How did I let things change so much? How is it that I don't remember the looks on their faces when the toilet paper shot out of Blue Man cannons? I feel sometimes like I am drowning in the rapids of time swooshing past.
Just trying to pop my head up above the water.
The dog.
He/she would have been a great distraction.
We would have been the better choice of course.

Thursday, November 05, 2015


...when you were home from college (or other living arrangement) and there were no cell phones? No way for anyone to get in touch with you if you didn't give them your parents' number....I loved those pockets of family. I'd have a cup of coffee with my mom, go to the Christmas tree farm with my dad (blue sweater, green puffy vest before they were cool, JCrew lug boots.....Great Falls), have drinks at Clyde's (In Reston) maybe bump into some old flame or other body back from University or far flung state. My grandfather declared Clyde's crab cakes Baltimore worthy. I loved visiting him going up four floors and walking all the way down the breezeway to their apartment. I'd look towards the center and see all the other balconies, wondering if twenty year olds were visiting like I was. Another spot where I couldn't be found and yet be totally loved. The check out ladies at Safeway knew my grandfather by name.

I crave those pockets now. I'm a soul needing rest. My mind has been churning and worrying and going full speed. I heard the words, I have cancer, from a loved one. We are heading down a road I've never traveled on....