7 of 31 SOL

Bark.  Whine.  Bark.

I slowly begin to realize that Trace is sounding the alarm.  Why, oh why does he have to wake up everyday, even Saturdays, between 6:00 and 6:30 AM?  Maybe if I lay very still he'll go back to sleep.  At about the same time I feel my husband start to stir.  

"I'll go."

"No, I've got them," answered JB.  The bed rocked as he threw off the covers and rose to his feet.

The corners of my mouth curl upward.  Life is full of simple pleasures one of which is sleeping in on Saturdays.  As I snuggle back down into the blankets I begin to sense that something is not right.  With a mind half awake I try to make it focus.  What is it that's out of sync?  Think.  Focus hard.  I push my eyes shut even further.  I scrunch my brows together.  I hear JB letting the dogs out: the banging of their tails on the wall, the closing and opening of the garage door and the pop of the lazy boy chair.

What is it?  Listen.  Now I'm beginning to get mad because today is my day to enjoy sleeping in and I can't because something is out of sync.  Out of irritation I open my eyes.  There splattered across the window are raindrops; hundreds of raindrops.

What's up?  Beyond the raindrops are gray, dreary clouds.  Where did the signs of spring go?  Why? I cry out in my head.  Please come back soon I can't take it much longer.  

Let down by the lack of spring, I roll over, pull the covers up around my chin and out of protest stay in bed on this cold, wet winter day.  When will this winter end?

My first attempt at poetry.  My mood and behavior were directly impacted by the signs of spring, so my SOL is a collection of split seconds from today where I noticed spring

Spring through the Senses

to see 

the brown grass

a canvas for the green to come

vision

to hear

the motion of the wind

a song for the soul 

sound

to smell

the moist soil

a nest for the seed to grow

scent

to feel 

the warm atmosphere

a tickle for the skin

touch

 

SOL 5 0f 31 

I felt it in the air today.  Spring!  I walked out of the conference center and felt it.  It was in the air.  The wind was blowing, rather briskly in fact, but it didn't send a chill down my spine.  It brushed gently against my cheek.  As I inhaled warm air filled my lungs and warmed my body from the inside out.  What a refreshing feeling after months of bone, chilling bitter cold.

I was renewed.  Instantly I had a spring in my step.  I just about skipped to my car.  My scarf and unbutton coat flapped in the breeze.  I loaded my materials into the car, took off my coat with a smile of satisfaction and settled in for the drive home.  

Wait!  What's wrong?  A blinding, bright light was coming into my car.  Where are my sun glasses?  I can't remember the last time I needed my sun glasses.

With sun-shielded eyes I cranked the radio, cracked the windows and hit the road for home.

Slice of Life March 4th, 2009

Luck was on my side as I approached the south entrance of the middle school.  An adult was waiting to dismiss the students and opened the door for me.  It's a long walk to the front of the middle school from the back parking lot. 

The walls were empty and rather quite for a middle school.  I mentally paused for a moment to consider how different they would be in just minutes when the final bell of the day would ring. This mental picture of students streaming out of classrooms; shouting, laughing, pushing each other caused my feet to mover faster.  I best reach my destination before the fox enters the hen house so to speak.

I begin to climb the one flight of stairs to the second floor when all of a sudden I'm thrown back 22 years to my high school days.  The memory overwhelms me and I stopped to study the details.  

He always stood just inside the balcony gym doors, which connect at the landing of the first flight of stairs.  There he stood every morning in his light gray, bomber style leather jacket with his three buddies, hanging out or waiting.  I'm still not sure to this day.

I stood frozen.  Struck by how quickly my mind traveled back to that moment in time.  

It was just a brief, fleeting moment that we made eye contact every morning as I made my way to my locker on the second floor.  I had to keep moving with the flow of traffic and by no means was I allowed to stop, walk over and join him with is buddies.

I can still feel the anticipation, even today.  How, as a sixteen year old, I looked forward to those few seconds each morning even if we'd spent two hours on the phone the night before. Those seconds of eye contact, the brief exchange of facial expressions set the tone for my day to come.

Bam!  I'm just as quickly shaken from my flashback by the ringing of the bell. I continued my climb still in shock of how vivid the memory was for me.  Then slowly I begin to remember the not so wonderful moments and the not so wonderful exchanges of facial expressions. 

I continued on my way overwhelmed with gratitude and thankfulness that the plan for my life at sixteen was not to be.  Today, I thanked God for unanswered prayers.

Slice of Life March 3, 2009 

3 of 31

The ring, ring, ring of the phone jars my focus from the TV.  I struggle to get out from under the blanket and out of the recliner.   My movement causes Trace to leap to his feet in hopes that I have finally decided to give him his bedtime snack.

"Come on, Trace.  Get out of the way so I can get to the phone."  I stumble trying to get my feet free of the blanket while dancing my way around Trace.  Thoughts about why my crazy dog has to be a foot from me all the time fill my head.  I consider it a sign of affection and continue to work my way to the phone.  A long trip considering it's just six feet from the couch to the phone.

"Hello," I answer knowing immediately that it's JB.  My heart jumps just knowing that he's called to check in for the night.

"Hi, How was your day?"

"Good, how about you?  How's your training session going?  Did you and Mike finally make it to the hotel?

I listen as JB recounts his flight from Michigan to Tennessee and the need to wait while they de-iced the plane.  I get a question in here and there.  Next, I hear about his hassle to get a rental car.  

"Well, I'm glad you are happy with the training session.  What are your plans for tomorrow?"  

"Our training session starts at 8 am and then we'll just come back to the hotel and hangout."

"Good night, hon, I'll talk with you tomorrow."

"Sweet dreams, love ya."

"Good-bye."

Today's Slice of Life is about the last half hour of the day.  I've successfully navigated the day.  I made each meeting on time and completed each task in a timely fashion.  So how does a teacher spend the last half hour of the day?  Well, getting prepared for tomorrow which for me tonight is writing scenes to develop my main character's struggles and motivations.   Here it is....

"Are you finished with the dishes?" asked Sara's mom from the TV room.

   "Yeah, mom." answered Sara as she passed through the dining room.  "I'm going upstairs to my room."

"Alright," answered Sara's mom.

Dragging herself upstairs and into her room, Sarah flopped on her bed.  What to do now thought Sarah.  She knew the answer.  Letting out a long sigh Sarah rolled to the edge of her bed and stared at her backpack.  Dragging the pack onto her bed Sarah slowly unzipped the bag dreading what was to come.

Digging into the bag Sarah pulled out her English folder.

Yuck! English!  

"Great," Sarah said to nobody.  The folder quickly reminded Sarah of what she hoped would go away.  Tomorrow was Friday.  Tomorrow was spelling test day in Mrs. Adam's class.

For Sarah there wasn't much that was worst than Friday spelling tests.    

It begins with pacing around the sofa through the dining room and back to his blanket.  He sits on the blanket and stares.  Yes, stares at me.  Repeat: a lap around the sofa, dining room and back to his blanket.  After several seconds he gets the notion that standing between us and staring might better his chances.  When he gets no response he decides that a paw on the sofa might draw more attention then hot, stinky dog breathe.  Well, it worked.  Stinky dog breathe; yes.  Dog paw on the couch; no way. 

"No, Trace.  Get back on your blanket."

Grunt, moan and grunt.  Dog swear words I'm sure.

"It's not time yet.  Lay down and relax."  As if protesting he responses with a long, painfully pathetic moan as if to say he'll obey, but he's not happy.  I've bought myself some time, but I know it will not last.  

How can a dog tell time?  His internal clock could be used to set the clock on the space shuttle.  What amazes me is his sense of routine or his need for routine.  Maybe a lesson can be learned here: there's nothing wrong with a bedtime snack although I'll pass on the Milkbone and go for some cheese and crackers.