Well - it's July 31st, and summer's done for me. Tomorrow, I begin 3 mornings of inservice to "comp" out days off in the school year. While I really dislike going, I forget the misery of it when those days off come along. Teaching does have it's perks....
I went down the school supply aisle today; I love the smell and sight of all those new colors, binders, and folders. Lunch boxes without peanut butter in the cracks and pencils with the eraser still on. Everyone is looking for that special something that they just have to have, and the anticipation of a new year fills the air.
But the best part of today happened at the vegetable section. I saw Joe. Joe was my student about 6 years ago, and I have his picture framed with a note he sent me after he moved on to another campus. I worked harder with Joe than any other student I've every had, and he left me still unable to read any better than when I got him. His eyes haunt me when I recall him stuggling to read, and wanting so badly to fall through the floor rather than sound out one more one-syllable word. But rather than resent me, he came to love me and me to love him. Now, he drives and has facial hair and today when our eyes met, he was still a 4th grader. He came over and we caught up on his summer and life, and then it was time to move on. He shyly looked up at me and whispered, "Can I have a hug?"
"Of course", I somehow said without choking on my words, and there in the middle of HEB, stood teacher and child in each other's arms. How I wish I had another chance to spend everyday with Joe in my class again - but in some way, I guess I do. He's the reason I continue to make the decision every day to go and try to touch the lives given me.
I hope he has a good year.

There is nothing more wonderful than having people tell you they love and appreciate your husband. Mine is a wonderful guy, and I've known it for a while, but today, after worship, a dear sister in Christ came up and told me how special he is to her and her family.
Now, my husband serves in a position of leadership at church, and it often puts him on the oposite side of popular, and the hours and long and touchy, but he does it because he has been asked to. He loves the people of our church family, but just like a regular family, you forget and take each other for granted. Right now that's happening a lot. So today, when our sister said that to me, I truly appreciated it. Someone noticed and let us know. Thanks, sister - it'll keep us going for a while. :)

Last night, Andy and I watched a documentary on the career of Walter Cronkite. We just sort of stumbled onto it, and stuck; as we watched, it was as if our whole lives were being replayed - even though we were young children through most of it, we recalled where we were and how we felt through all of the major events of the 60s, 70s, and even into the 80s. I recalled being afraid even down here in Texas, that the civil rights battles and Vietnam were going to take our country into another Civil War. I don't know how far off base those feelings truly were, but to my inexperienced mind, it was scary. TV was just coming into play as the news medium that it is now, and our daily lives were bombarded with images of war and police riots and political evils. It was a time for everyone to have strong opinions about issues and have a venue to share them with. And Uncle Waltie was right there, guiding us through it all with his calm voice and horned-rim glasses. Although I don't miss the violence of those days, I do miss the simplicity of
the time that still remained for most of us. I'm afraid that simplicity is gone forever.

"...June, July, and August." You know the beginning: "What are the best things about being a teacher?..." Well, August is pretty much out of the mix these days, with school starting for teachers literally the 1st. It's not solid days then, oh no - they fool you into thinking you still have two weeks off, but everyone who is a teacher or lives with one knows that when that calendar turns over, or even before, school has re-entered the thought processes and schedules.
Actually, the new beginning of a school year is one of my favorite things about my profession. Andy's job bleeds year into year, and so do most careers, but teaching is unique in that it has a definite beginning and a definite end. The bell rings in May, and that year - good or bad - is gone. Those kids you loved are passed on to someone new; as are the stinkers you wanted to push out the door! It may be the same classroom, the same staff nearby, the same job description, but it is new. I love that, because it keeps the year sane.
I don't have a favorite year; my years with Billie as my principal are among my happiest, but I do have a worst. And no matter how bad a year becomes, I doubt one will ever surpass that one. Thank God.
My paycheck came in the mail today with my "Back to School" information, so- here it comes. I guess I"m ready; I'd better be!

Okay - I am a Tiger Woods groupie. I know next to nothing about golf, except what I have learned from watching Tiger.I started watching out of curiousity about him - his life and amazing talent. Now, I have a new interest in Phil and Sergio and others who hang with Tiger. But my main interest is in him; he is a beautiful man to watch, and even when he shows his vulnerability he is worth giving up an afternoon for. I think I truly would turn to mush at the thought of meeting him; and I"m sure that's going to happen in my lifetime. So, I make my nest on the couch and act like I know what's going on - I guess he's my 50s crush. Could be worse, I guess!

One of the things we did in Colorado was to go to a Putt-Putt place in the evening. I was green inside and out with my bug, but wanted to capture every moment in my mind's eye; so I went and sat while my family golfed. Fun.
As I always do, I began to speculate as I watched them all having fun and being so very suave. I looked at them and saw them as if I weren't there at all; you know - gone. Away. Dearly departed and eternally at rest. It was very surreal. I imagined that they would go on just fine without me and continue to live life with some very happy days. On the one hand, it was very sad to imagine myself in that place, but on the other hand, it was oddly comforting to know that they would be okay - have each other to rely on.
Is that being 51 and menopausal, or tired and sick, or just weird?!

Archie Waldrum died this week. He was 93 years old, and had just finished a week at Camp Bandina; his session for more than 35 years. He told the group at closing ceremonies that they probably would not see him again; and was in a car accident going home with his beloved wife Delores. A lady at a Wal-Mart hit them - how could she have known what she did?
To us at Camp Bandina during Archie's session, he was a true hero of the faith. I see him in my mind's eye as old then, when my grandmother and hero finally talked my mom into letting me go to camp for the first time. For an amazing $28.00, I spent a week in Heaven - looking at the Hill country, singing songs which made my soul soar, and meeting other people of like mind and faith. Archie was always there, and sometimes in the 80s, they named the pavillion where we ate and worshipped after him. How many lives did he touch during all those years?
The last time I saw Archie, we were in Tulsa, Oklahoma at the Soul Winning Workshop. I tapped his shoulder and then - after he knew who I was, gathered him in my arms as if I saw him everyday. Although I never saw him again, just knowing he was still going to that hilltop every July kept things "right."
Now, he is gone - probably having a blast reaquainting himself with those gone before him, including my dear grandmother.
Hug her for me, please Archie. Tell her I'm coming - and I'm bringing my family with me!!

Over 2,600 miles. Our car is tired, as are we, but what a trip! 15 years ago, when we viewed Estes Park for the first time, I said we had the perfect trip. Well, this one wasn't perfect, but it was close. Salida, Colorado is a charming, back-in-time little place, and we could go live there easily; but that's not an option. We worshipped with about 20 little souls on Sunday night, and we were made to feel very welcome. Our hotel host was from Poland, which I find odd, yet appropriate. Both places we stayed afforded us the sound of babbling waters as we awoke in the mornings, and crisp mountain air to invigorate us. We spend quiet evenings in the cabin, mainly because I shared a nasty little bug with Dana and Gregg - let's just say it hampered our outings a little. But we shopped and ate, and stopped to stare at elk and moose, and came home with wonderful memories. Between the three digital cameras, I imagine we took hundreds of pictures to capture the days, and we'll be enjoying those for years to come.
Now, we're home, and life returns to it's routines. There's always NEXT summer!

Tomorrow morning, I will tell my house "good-bye."
It's a funny little habit I picked up from my mother - she always said good-by to the school on the last day of classes, and to our home whenever we left for a few days. And we were truly always glad it was there to greet us on our return.
So, tomorrow, when Andy and I head out on our vacation, I will wave and say "good-bye."
I'll tell you all about it in a few days. God bless.

Happy Birthday, America! With all your flaws, you are still one amazing idea - a concept borne out of oppression and dreams of a better life. Long may you live....
Do you have a favorite John Philip Sousa march? I'm sure you might know Stars and Stripes Forever, but one of my favorite ones is Washington Post. I wish I had known John Philip - his patriotism survives long after him. My brother and I used to march through the house to his music, and I can still name most of his marches within the first few notes. Not exactly Mensa quality stuff, but I'm proud. This holiday, when the fireworks are flying around you, think about what you are leaving as your legacy for future bloggers to ponder.

If I were a criminal, and knew I would not get caught, I'd be a counterfeiter. I'd spend my days just running off lots and lots of bills; big and little ones. I'd scrunch them up and rub stuff on them to make them look old and used, and then, I'd go for it. I'd travel the world over - except for Asia - then, I'd start giving it away to people and foundations - like camps for kids and homes for families. I'd be a good criminal. I'd give Dana and Erin and Gregg enough so as not to look suspicious, and then I'd put Andy on the shuttle for the ride of his life. When he got home, I'd send him to baseball training camp with the Houston Astros. For me, I'd build houses all over the place, one of every style -except contemporary - and then I'd spend time in them. I'd have to figure out how to do all this while looking like I'm still living on a teacher's salary - yeah, right!
Any ideas about how to get started?!?

God bless Andy. He pointed out to me that June has 30 days; no wonder I felt like it was going fast - I left off a day!! I tell you, when school is out, I do not know the date.

The other day, I told my daughter that nothing makes me madder than for someone to treat me like I am stupid. I know, obviously from the last post, I make mistakes, but don't assume that I am dumb by any nature. I hate stupid questions and to be told what I feel or think about something. Please; give me some credit. It really sounds like I'm ranting and raving about this, but at 51, I've decided to speak my mind. I've sat meekly by too long and not said what I thought or felt about a lot of things, and now - well - be prepared. I'll try to be nice and still be a lady, but no more biting my tongue about things that affect me or my family or my God.

There - I feel much better! Have a nice day....