The teachers' lounge

Ah yes, I remember it well.  In the old building, it was in the basement.  Three flights down a set of stairs that should have been condemned years prior.  Between classes, a dash for a cigarette (yes, 1 1/2 minutes is enough time to light, inhale, exhale, and head back upstairs!).  Lunch?  A time to try and blot out the aroma of the phys. ed. class taking place just around the corner (and of course, another cigarette or two!).  Planning period?  Ah, the entire reason for survival.  During this time we planned quickly and then communed with each other.  I remember the time spent trying to "humanize" a new teacher.  (He didn't smoke.  He didn't swear.  I mean, really!)  I remember the time spent discussing the best method of not committing acts of violence on students who were pushing our buttons.  But mostly, I remember the unshakable bonds that were formed during this 50 minute period.  It was here that we recognized the humanity in each other and established a life-long bond that exceeded normal friendships.  Of course, I should note, it was also during this time frame that on occasion I would simply join my female friends in the women's lounge on third floor--much to the chagrin of one female teacher who didn't yet realize the benefits of coeducational elucidation!  But that's another story for another blog!  On several occasions, the teachers' lounge saved a life--sometimes a student--most times, one of us!
Then we moved to the new building.  The teachers' lounge was just on the other side of the office.  With pass through mail boxes in between.  Not exactly sound proof.  But we managed on occasion to avoid too much criticism.  The bonding continued.  Cross-word puzzles.  Anecdotes.  And that one day we sang Stars and Stripes Forever, each of us taking a different instrumental part.  Let me tell you, it was awesome.  It was again time to be adults having fun.  Due to its location, however, the consensus of opinion on the other side of the mail boxes was perhaps we were not setting the best example for the students in the office.  The lounge became a work room.  It may have been more politically correct.  But it wasn't as humanistic!
We soon moved over to the big house, integrating into the existing confines, and rarely spent time together.  There was a women's lounge, but it was sacrosanct.  Even I didn't attempt to integrate.  I think there was a mens' lounge as well.  But, I know this will come as a surprise to you, I didn't have many hunting, trapping, or fishing stories to share.  My saving grace?  I shared my room with an amazing woman with amazing children, and another bond was formed.  Mostly, planning periods were spent in there!
Why, you might ask, do I think of that now?  It's been over 11 years since I've taught.  Since you asked, I can tell you.  I was out for lunch with my beautiful bride today.  On a whim, I ordered a glass of wine.  It was a generous pour.  It was delicious.  And I realized one more thing about the teachers' lounge.  How much better would it have been if it had lived up to its name?!  A little wine might have made the day move more smoothly.  And doc says, it's good for me!  Just a thought!!!!!!

Cry to remember...

33000 feet.  Post Hawaii.  Pre home. Just finished watching "Mamma Mia" for the nth time.  Absolutely love ABBA.  Likewise Meryl Streep.  For some reason, I discovered that I had tears in my eyes.  Of course, it could just be the hours waiting for and riding the plane.  Tiredness coupled with restless rump could bring tears to anyone's eyes.  (It certainly seems to be having that effect on the youngster in the row ahead!).   It could be we just flew over Sioux Falls on our way to Atlanta...to board another plane to take us to Sioux Falls!  It could be a result of the anti-climactic doldrums that affect me at the end of an adventure.  It might even be the knowledge that the Delta cookies won't be available after today (sad face!).  Whatever the cause, they precipitated a period of reflection.  When we get home, the house will be empty.  No four legs to meet us.  That pain remains.  When we get home, there will be no amazing tropical flowers to perfume the air and titillate the olfactory.  When we get home, there will not be a cadre of like-minded hikers commenting on the day's adventure.  And the eyes well up.  I turn to my left, and there, in quasi sleep mode is the woman I love.  She makes home, home.  She is the stability that guarantees even though I may not deserve it, she will recognize the best in me.  And I realize the tears are not sadness, but joy...in how lucky we are to have a home to go to; of how lucky we are to be able to have amazing adventures; of how lucky we are to have friends who recognize just who and what we are.  Deep sigh!  I am indeed blessed.  I am also a sentimental old fart!  And I can live with that.  Even at 33000 feet!

Postcard from the edge!

To roll a pair of dice

The day arrived quite splendid for meeting our new group

In circular gazebo, in ones and groups they troop

The East coast? Represented!  New Jersey and New York.

The south?  It's Carolina, and Georgia pops the cork.

The farthest west?  Dakota!  We represent with four.

The leaders and miss Maurine complete our common corps.

But regions?  Far too easy!  It's names we have to learn.

By number?  Two and twenty.  Oh see those brain cells burn!

We've Tina and the Kriegmans, Elizabeth and Andy

Rebecca, brother Sam, the same last name quite handy.

But then there's James and Katie, a daughter--son-in-law

The last name game is over, on other memes must draw!

We've Jane and Lisa Tilney, we've Hersh and his bride Fern

There's Deborah and her Donald, but prefer he Pat we learn!

There's Karen and her husband who goes by name of Mark

And Andrea does join us she's her for such a lark.

That brings us to Dakota, it's Sarah, husband Jeff

And we?  We're Bz/Cz...decidedly not high def!

We are but NeNe gaggle without our leaders strong

Nathalie, Mo, and Katie...they're in it for haul long!

The introductions over, to vans we all head out

For hike our first--exciting.  This place ain't bad no doubt!

The sugar cane provides us with tantalizing juice

We're off on our excursion...for some?  The map no use!

Unsure of what direction, we manage to get lost

But found us just as quickly...no harm...no foul...no cost.

Then supper it does call us, and bed for every one!

Good night!  Sleep tight!  And dream well. For now day one is done!

Day two

We ride to Haleakala and pray it won't erupt

Dear Maui, mighty demi god Imprisons sun--corrupt!

For some the hike is shorter...at four miles that's enough

But others take the long route.  They're mighty and they're tough!

Tonight it's after supper that we head home for to pack

Tomorrow we will ferry..Lanai's next on track!

It's really quite amazing how quickly friendships form

There must be something to it....Aloha! Is the norm.

Day 3

The bags are packed, we're ready to ascend the mighty trail

The asphalt it is daunting...it's not for weak or frail

But once the road o'ertaken by trees and roots galore

The visuals?  Impressive!  It leaves us wanting more!

Then off to sweet Lahaina, we lunch where ere we wish

Then Lanai by ferry, some whales we spot...delish!

The hotel is quite frugal...amenities?  A few

But sports like us do comment...we think this might just do!

Day 4

It starts with auto rodeo, let's get the sow o'er hill

Go back go up and back again, the early morning thrill!

Then down to lunch exciting, we end up on the beach

Then off to yellow taxi, and chance to see a breach!

The scenery was amazing, it's hard to rate the scale

But obviously greater was chance to see the whale. 

Then supper was a challenge, we do it on our own?

We're up to task as given, then head we back to home!

Day 5

It's inland that we're headed...the ridge provides the trail

The gulches are amazing, but lunch our holy grail!

The salads were stupendous...the chicken we could take

But glorious in content, the very chocolate cake!

Then back to Seasons Quattro, the afternoon was ours

Some snorkeling, some resting, some time to find the bars.

And now it's off to supper...together our last meal

A time for some reflection...to tell you how we feel.

In five short days they've miled us...they've fed us once or twice

They've housed us very plushly,, the sand and ocean, nice!

But as the waves are breaking, it's memories we've made

It's old friends and the new ones, the joys I'd never trade.

Aloha is a spirit...embrace it as you will

It's changed my life forever...it simply fits the bill.

Again I am reminded, it's not about the trip

It's not about the hiking or the cocktails that you sip,

It's all about the people with whom to choose to spend

The time we have together... you now can call them friend.

So life?  It's just a crap shoot.  It's how you roll the dice.

To you I say aloha!  You made it paradise!

I don't know why they call it pair o' dice!

A trip was in the offing, to Paradise we go,
To get there? Time consuming.  It's far away you know!
It's Sioux Falls, Minneapolis, Seattle, Maui last
But late at night we get there, and now the die is cast.

Up early the first morning, the flowers they do call,
"My picture it needs taking!"  I try to get them all!
Then off to Fern and Hershel, big breakfast and great walk
The tender skin does color, this place does really rock!

Then clean we up for supper, good food, great friends, great fun
And just like that it's over...our first day it is done...
But not without an homage to product made right here
The rule says must be local...the item?  Must be beer!

The siren call of flora does beckon us day two
There's still a lot of flowers...you're no where half way through.
But whilst we amble onward, a niggling thought does spread
We've flora but no fauna, "Come find us" they have said.

A challenge I will rise to;  but birds?  Too easy these!
Let's capture unique species...a snail perhaps will please!
Or better yet a reptile--those little devils quick
Success with each endeavor...and each a single click!

Successful with the camera.  Success at finding sun!

Successful day two hunting, but now this day is done!  

Tomorrow starts the hiking...new friends we've yet to meet

So time to get some sleeping, another day...so sweet!

Life is like a book...

unless you travel, you're always on the same page.  That's what it said in a book store in Nova Scotia.  I tend to agree.  To that end, we are turning yet another page on Wednesday, as we head for the islands of Maui and Lanai to hike.  The prelude to travel always amazes me.  What shall I pack?  What can I unpack?  Will I need the Immodium?  Will I need the XLAX?  Pack the Advil.  Don't forget the Tums.  An extra pair of undies makes sense (especially at this age!)  Now understand, this happens for me about 1-2 weeks before we go.  There's that inner child that gets so excited to go new places and do new things.  I enjoy him! 
This trip "requires" me to break out the Hawaiian shirts.  Everyone knows a man my age has Hawaiian shirts.  It is a rite of passage into Y Chromosomal dotage.  I went shopping (in the totes in the shed).  I was successful.  In fact, as I sit here, I am wearing one and looking at seven of them hanging on the line.  Here's the frightening thing.  I have already packed the eight I am taking along!  Knowing me is to know nothing succeeds like excess. 
Before we go, the hairs need to be cut, batteries need to be purchased, money needs to be arranged, and I probably should take a Valium!  Sleep?  Well, that's really iffy.  We'll see.  I'm just glad our reading assignment is growing!  Know you are loved!

The empty house

The door to the dining room stands open.  The doorway from the hall to the living room is not blocked with a gate.  There are no water drops on the kitchen floor extending from the water container to wherever.  The door to the basement is left open.  The couch is once again a couch.  And the days go forward, bringing surprise and joy.  There are no dog beds in virtually every room of the house.  The food dishes are put away.  The daily medicines are gone.  And the days go forward, each bringing surprise and joy.
We've done this before.  It is the price one pays.  For unquestioning love.  For a devotion unusual to behold.  For the surprise and joy every time we come home.  So we will do it again.  Not just yet.  But again.  And until then, we will revel in the surprises to come.  And we will celebrate the joy that comes from each other, from family, and friends.  Life IS good.  But today, when we came home...the house was empty.

Bad Words

There have been phrases in my life that have had the ability to almost immobilize me with fear.  As a child, "Wait until your father gets home."  As a student, "Put away your books, it's quiz time."  As a student teacher, "You will be teaching this group Moby Dick!" As a teacher of a creatively unruly student, "I am the oldest of six children."  Again as a teacher, "I will be observing you tomorrow."  As a "just over the given leeway" speeder, "May I see your license and registration, please."  As a scamee, "This is the IRS and you are going to jail."  Obviously I have survived each of these and probably am the better for it.  However, my entire life, one phrase has consistently held me in the grips of terror.  Its very presence has altered my decisions, increased the shakiness of my hands, and ignominiously reduced me to vocabulary that Miss Loosewheel would inform me was unnecessary from someone with an IQ above 20!  The phrase?  "Some assembly required." 
We needed a new file cabinet.  Off to Menards.  After two sales associates and a bit of wandering, we discover exactly what I'm "needing".  Two drawers--on casters so it is movable. Ideal.  $54.00 later, we're home and the box is open.  Styrofoam packing.  Among my least favorite items.  I conquer the unpacking only to discover the box is not complete in its description.  The casters must be attached, as must the handles.  Merde!  (Check out French to English dictionary explanation!)  The front casters--no problem--two screws each--two holes in the cabinet.  Clever!  Then, it's the back casters.  First I have to position the plates.  Yeah, right.  I look at the picture.  I position.  I look at the picture.  I position.  I look at the Grand Coulee picture.  I position.  By now, the hands are shaking, the mood is fevered, and the language is profuse.  By mistake, I inadvertently correctly position the plate.  Eureka.  Quickly I attempt to screw it into place.  I drop the screw.  I drop the plate.  I swear!  Somehow, I miraculously re-position the plate, find the screw and one caster on.  Being a quick learner, it only takes me three tries to get the second caster on.  Sweat pouring, hands shaking, but with a feeling of overwhelming pride, I start with the handles.  One handle.  Four screw holes.  Two screws.  And of course, since the handle probably should be to the outside, the screw must go in from the inside of the drawer.  Have I mentioned the shakes?  When I finally get one screw in, I obviously have chosen the wrong hole because the other side doesn't line up.  I unscrew, re-position, and screw again.  Correction.  I attempt to screw again.  I can't see the top of the screw head, and my screwdriver is doing the tarantella in my hands.  15 minutes later, the air a bright blue, my blood pressure approaching 350/300, the handles are attached, the file is in position, and I'm headed for the box of wine! 
I have decided.  Dad really wasn't all that scary.  Quizzes didn't really matter!  Moby Dick was less problematic when taught as an adventure tale.  Kids are all different.  I knew more about what I was doing than anyone observing.  It's only money.  And the IRS really will never call.  But those damn assemblies!