Time Flies

Sometimes I turned over!

When I was younger, I used to float on my raft in the pool lying on my stomach.  I would pretend that I had tanks on my back and I would  concentrate on filling the tanks with sunshine.  There was an invisible hose that attached to the tank and circled my waist.  There was an invisible button that inserted into my navel.  On the coldest, darkest days of winter, I could mentally push that button and send soothing rays of sunshine through my body - to my heart and to the very center of my soul.

I have not done that in recent years.  I do not know why.  I remember doing it. I remember that I truly enjoyed it in the moment and there were some dreary days that I resorted to pushing that invisible button.   I think about those days sometimes.  I frequently have shared that strategy with friends as a coping mechanism of getting through dark days- but I have not actually done it.  Recently, I have wondered if I do not do it because I am too busy to do it or if I am less busy and therefore no longer need to do it.   Which comes first - the chicken or the egg?

Mana the Beautiful

One reason for my thinking about this has clearly been the Thankful Project that went around on FaceBook for the month of November.  I simply could not come up with a daily list of the things that I am thankful for. There  are SO many, and this retirement thing has clearly messed up my schedule and my organizational skills.  :) Early on, as I read the journal entries of others, I decided that I would attempt a blog.  Easier said than done!

Another cause for my reflection on this has been a book.  I have noticed this before, but it has popped into my mind again..books are often triggers for my reflection.  Years ago, I was doing some adjunct work for the College of Saint Joseph the Holy Provider and the American Institute for Creative Education.  I would have the pleasure of traveling around to a number of schools working with teachers on implementing high quality literature in their classrooms.  I used books to demonstrate the various levels of what I - in my youthful wisdom -thought to be good or not so good.  There  was a book that I made mockery of.  It was titled "I'll Love You Forever".  Have you read it?  I would pull that book apart from cover to cover, making fun of the incidents that took place in the story.  I remember being in Bedford, New Hampshire.  I remember it for several reasons.  The college put me up at the Bedford Inn.  It was gorgeous.  I broke the bathtub and I fell out of the bed.  I had forgotten how high it was off the floor and that there was actually a footstool to help you get in.  I am sure that the people in the room below me thought that there was an earthquake.  However, that is not what I remember the most.

I remember starting to read the book aloud in front of a fairly large group of teachers and suddenly starting to sob.  My oldest child had left for his first year of college, and suddenly, I saw that book in a very different light.  It made for a great discussion, but it left me red faced and humbled.  I have been reminded many times over the years that books can have a different impact on you,depending on where you are within your life when you read them.

Dad and Kate

After I retired, I read some great books.  Not challenging,  just light and entertaining.  after David retired, we packed up and took off to see all of our children in three different installments.  (Those visits may have been the primary trigger for this sense of reflective thankfulness on my part.)  I brought a variety of books with me.  I chose a small book for the plane.  "The Time Keeper".  It is written by Mitch Albom and I have read and loved many of his books.  Somehow, I just could not get into the book...it seemed absurd.

I picked it up again, towards the end of our trip and suddenly, it had my attention.  On the third try, a sentence grabbed me.  "Try to imagine a life without timekeeping."  It went on to say that it would be practically impossible for us to do that.  We are the only creatures who measure time.  Therefore, we alone experience the fear of time running out.

Time is such an overused word and the author focuses on it.    'Waste time, pass time, kill time.'You have heard them all before as well as many others.  Albom says:  "There are as many expressions using the word time as there are minutes in a day...but once there was no word for it, because no one was counting."


One of the dialogue statements that caught my attention was:  "Before you measure the years, you measure the days.  I have often heard it said that time flies.  I have said it myself.  I have often shared the conversation I had with my educational mentor, Howard Smith.  Without  a doubt he is one of the smartest people I have ever had the honor of working with and I had always considered him to be one of the smartest people in the world.  On one particular day, I mentioned to him that I was amazed at how fast the school year was going.  Keep in mind, this was many moons ago - more than 30 years.  Howard smiled and told me that I would learn that as I got older, time would go faster.  I smiled and thought that perhaps he was not so smart after all.  24 hours is 24 hours, regardless of your age.  Once again, Howard was right!


As time has gone on, I have noticed that years have been measured by big events - marriages, births, illnesses, deaths - significant instances that make your heart stop beating and fill your heart and soul with happiness, love, fear, anger, joy.  Memorable events.  Significant events.

Mike, Mayumi, Louis, Mana, Mom and Dad

The days go by so fast - do I forget to notice that they are important?  Do I forget that without the days, there are no years?  Do I forget to stop and smell the roses?

We walked by these roses every day in Yokohama and I am happy to say that I stopped every day to look at them.  David - did not appreciate it.

John, Emily, and Mom and Dad

I must not forget to celebrate the small events.  Are they any less memorable or significant than the smaller ones?  Vacations are one example of this.  In the old days, when I was lucky enough to be able to go somewhere, I would savor those memories for weeks. On any given day, I would stop and think: ' A week ago today, I was....'. Over the years, perhaps I have begun to take too much for granted - and that is the reason that I have stopped doing some of the things that used to bring me peace and comfort.  Perhaps time is passing so quickly, that I do not consciously celebrate those special moments.  The pace of life is so fast!  I was recently in the office of a colleague and I noticed the following sign:  "REST!  There is more to life than increasing speed.  (Mohandas K. Ghadhi). Is that why I no longer stop to think about filling my tanks?  Am I not stopping to REST?

Grandma sure does love those Japanese Baths!

Every time  I find myself reading a book that really has my attention, I come to a line or a passage and I think that I could have written that.  In The Timekeeper, it was the part about filling holes.  Grace was the wife of one of the three main characters in the book.  He was extremely wealthy and wanted to make life as easy as possible for his wife.  He would be very annoyed when Grace would do her own shopping.  He felt that to be a menial task that could be performed by one of the servants.  Grace realized that she did the shopping to fill the holes in her life.  I have said that so many times.  As my children grew and flew, I filled those holes with work. 

--> It may not have been the same type of “filling”, but the holes were unfilled.  Now I find myself creating new fillings for the newly created holes.  I could play Grace should the book ever be made into a movie.

Grandma sure does Lake Willoughby

As I finish reflecting, I will turn,to one more quote from The Timekeeper.  "It is never too late or too soon.  It is when it is supposed to be.  --> We mark the minutes that we use, but do we use them wisely.  Wisely – to be still, to cherish, to be grateful, to lift, and to be lifted.  There is a strategy that teachers use to help students remember things.  It is called ‘The Most Important Thing’.  I am going to model it as a closure for this reflection.  As I reflected on how I spend my time, I learned three things.  I learned that I sometimes do very silly things.  I learned that I truly am very thankful for all the good things that make up my life.  But the most important thing that I learned is that I need to spend my time wisely and use it well.

Grandma sure does Louis!  How much does she love Louis?

Time to go.

R.N. Johnson's Says Farewell to Old Man D

Speech given by Alan Johnson

October 20th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MtjTsmn9xg

Dave Davignon came to work for us on April 21^st, 1970.  He is retiring in another week and a half with forty-two and a half years of service.

When Dave came to R.N. Johnson’s he was 23 years old, single, and had been out of the army for two years.  He applied to be a mechanic.  My grandfather hired him for the princely sum of $3.15 per hour.  (Kate was surprised to see that he had hair!)

 Dave was well suited for the farm machinery business, having grown up on a small family dairy farm in Orleans, Vermont.  He was well suited for R.N. Johnson’s because he knew how to work, was not afraid to get his hands dirty, and had a can do attitude.

I am not sure how much time Dave spent in his first years as a mechanic.  As far back as I can remember, Dave drove truck – and he was good at it.  Customers liked him, and although I am sure he never told him, my grandfather loved him.  My grandfather loved and respected anyone who would stand up to him when they thought they were right.  This was probably a frequent occurrence, because I have never known Dave to think he was wrong!

When I graduated from college in 1980, my grandfather put me in charge of sales.  I needed a new salesman and with help from George Gage, I lobbied long and hard for my grandfather to let me have Dave.  It was my belief that Dave had talent, skill, and potential that were not being utilized driving truck and that he would do quite well in sales.

I can remember that my grandfather was easier to convince than Dave.  Dave was not sure that he could do the job.  It is the only time I have ever seen Dave show a lack of confidence.  Thankfully, he trusted me and in 1981 he became a salesman for R.N. Johnson.

Dave was a natural.  He already knew most of our customers, he knew farming, and he knew machinery.  I can still remember making a 3x5 index card for Dave with different models of manure spreaders with their capacity in bushels and cubic feet so that he could know how to quickly match one brand against another – apples to apples.  As far as I know, Dave still has that card.  (He does.)

When Dave made a deal which my grandfather did not like, he would say to me:  “Your Frenchman did this, or your Frenchman did that.”  To Dave’s credit, being a Frenchman was the most disparaging thing my grandfather could think of to say.  (Cathie says that her mother was the same way.)

In no time, Dave became the most successful salesman in the company.  He could sell farm machinery and he could sell lawn and garden equipment.  He could help design and sell milking systems, gutter cleaners, or silo un loaders, and if need be – he could help set up, deliver or install any of them.

A few years back, Dave suffered a brain tumor.  He scared the hell out of us and his family.  Fortunately, the tumor was operable, was removed and Dave made a full recovered.  This is the only time I recall Dave ever missing work for being sick.  If Dave could get out of bed and stand upright, he wanted to be at work.

Dave continues to be our most consistently successful salesman, routinely generating over a million dollars in sales a year – regardless of the economy.  He will be sorely missed.  My only regret is that I could not get away with paying him $3.15 an hour.

After forty-two and one half years, like my grandfather, the worst thing I san say about Dave is that he IS a Frenchman!  But I say it with great affection.  It is my sincere hope that Dave looks back on the time he spent here with fondness, many happy memories and no regrets.

I am appreciated and thankful for Dave’s loyalty to this company, his dedication, determination, hard work, and especially his friendship.  I admire and respect Dave not only for his work ethic, but also more importantly for his sense of humor, honesty, integrity, faith, and devotion to his family.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MtjTsmn9xg

I am not worried about Dave keeping busy in his retirement.  He is devoted to his wife Cathie, his children, John, Michael, and Katie – and to his grandchildren.  Thanks to Cathie, Dave has learned to relax, travel, and take vacations.  Within hours of walking away from his desk for the last time, Dave and Cathie will be flying west to spend time in Seattle with John and his wife and then to Japan to spend time with Michael and his family in Yokohama.  After that, I envision Dave immersing himself in his other passion…sugaring.

 

Thank you, Dave.  We wish you all the best – health, happiness, and peace.  May God bless you and your family always.

As a small going – away present, Terry has something for you…

 

Looking at Life Through the Glasses of Others

-->

…. so, it has been awhile since I have done a blog entry.  I have been thinking about it.  I even had a lead in for one, but every time I shared it with someone, they were grossed out.  I still like it and have finally decided that I am going to use it.  If you don’t like it, I am pretty sure that you know what you can do with it.

It really has been awhile.  Some of you have actually mentioned that you have missed my blog.  Don’t go there John, Mike, and Kate.  I am stating up front that you were not among that group.

The reason for that is that I have been looking for a picture.  To date, I have not found it.  Using the educational research of Madeline Hunter I will create an Anticipatory Set.  When I find the picture, I will share it.  It is a picture of me in all my glory.  Not THAT kind of glory.  However, my objective in sharing the picture will be to make you smile and I am 100% confident that I will achieve that objective.

It is my cousin Carol Kelly’s fault that I got started again.  Yesterday morning, she posted a picture of an old time soda fountain on Face Book – asking if anyone remembered one like that……………..That made me think of something I had wanted to include in my blog……………

This summer, I was reading a mystery by Karen Slaughter and there is a chapter where – skip the next few sentences if you are ‘faint ‘ of heart – one of her characters is involved in a scene where they are discussing slicing off the retinas of a person and inserting them into a television like machine which would then show every moment of that individual’s life – in color – but I do not think it was living color.  Can you believe that I read stuff like that?

John in glasses.

Thankfully, I am still in possession of my eyeballs, but recently I have felt as if the various events of my life are passing before me.  The hunt for that picture yielded many other pictures – if not that desired on.  I found pictures of many of my family members wearing glasses – don’t ask me why.  I seldom understand why we do the things we do. 

Summer is rapidly drawing to a close and I always hate that.  During the last five years I have been driving Route 12 along the river on a daily basis.  Each day I think I should bring my camera and take pictures of some of the beautiful sights that I always drive by in a hurry.  I have seen several things within the last couple of weeks that have made me want to stop and take a picture…. and I did not have my camera.  There is a plant in my sister’s yard that she bought for herself and within days, it withered.  I brought it home and nursed it back to life.  She is sure that I replaced it.  I did not.  It is amazing what tender, loving care can do for all living things.  The plant is beautiful, but birds have helped it along.  There are two gorgeous sunflowers rising from the side of the plant.  Each time I water it; I mutter a bad word because once again, I have forgotten my camera.  I AM going to take that picture…

At the end of August, my cousin Tracey came to visit her New England relatives.  She brought her camera with her.  Watching her take pictures with a sense of excitement was like looking at pieces of my life through her eyes – eyes that had not seen these things for 40 years.

We walked around the village.  I could remember where almost everything was ‘back in the day’.  So many things are gone – or changed.  I practically grew up in the Bellows Falls Trust Company.  Whenever I looked nice, the outfit came from Tidd’s, which later became A.J. Hinds.  We never bought any jewelry that did not come from Cote’s – mostly because it always came with a healthy dose of humor. My famous Easter outfit – one of those times that I did not look nice came from the Franklin Shop.  It was not their fault.  (That is the picture I am still looking for.)  I could always get help from Mary Managan at the Reliable Bargain store. 

Passing the old Fire Station – at least one of them and the old Police Department and seeing how that area has changed was amazing.  Kathy, your store was not open, but the display of glasses was beautiful. 

We walked down to Waypoint. …and it still seems strange not to have Sparky standing across the road at the Depot.  We looked in Fletcher’s and it will never be the same without Bertha and the soda fountain.  It was odd to look through the eyes of my hometown with an older lens.  We then walked up the hill past the paper mill.  I am the only female in my family who never worked there.  Coming back around towards the Post Office I pointed out where the old Island Hotel used to be – and the Kelly family lived in that area for many years.  There were always stories about running out to the tracks after a train would go past.  Coal would fall off and the Kelly Kids would pick it up, as that was often their source of heat for the winter.

We took a quick peek at the mural that depicts Bellows Falls ‘back in the day’.  Tracey clearly remembered the stairs and the old Stairway Restaurant where I used to waitress.  I frequently had lunch there as well.  Dora Walsh made the best pea soup!  It was sad to see the Miss Bellows Falls closed again.  We talked about the various locations where Dick’s Shoe Store had been.  I bought my wedding shoes when it was just below the stairs and across the street.  One of our last picture taking stops included Saint Charles School – now the WNESU office.  Both Tracey and I attended grade school there.  Our final picture was the Dairy Joy and we joked that she used to visit me there when I was one of “Joe’s Girls”.  I did not take pictures - but THOSE pictures are all stored in my head.

Her visit reminded me that there 

were things that I had said I wanted to do.  She got me jump-started.   One of the things that I have been putting off is a trip to Minard’s Pond.  Check.  I have done it.  Table Rock is on my list – and I am going to get there before snow flies…right, Kate?  Tracey got me started and now, my cousin Carol has fanned the flame.  I am going to look at more things – and try to see them through the eyes of others.  To support the objective that I stated – which was to make you laugh, I have embedded some pictures of my family in glasses.  I am also going to give myself a closing activity.  There is a picture that I have said I was going to take for about two weeks now.  I have not done it.  Before this day is over, I am going to do that – and I am going to make it my Face Book cover picture.  You will know if I have succeeded or not.  I know I am going to do it.  I want to see the world around me and know that the world around me is looking back, but liking what it sees! 

 Here's looking at you.

Thanks Tracey and Carol.  Relatives are wonderful things!

Thanks for the book, Jennie Young - wish the pie came with it!

So………….I guess you are never too old to learn something new.  I am taking a three-day class this week – starting tomorrow.  Sometimes I am very good at taking my own advice.  Never let your license run out – they make it very difficult to get it back…so, I will keep on learning.  As part of the class, I had to take an on-line leadership assessment.  They advised me that it would take me approximately 35 minutes.  It didn’t.  It is the first one that I have ever taken that was timed.  You were given no more than 20 seconds for each question.  They did not want the participant to “over” think.  It still did not take me 35 minutes.  Inventories like that become like the old television show ‘Name That Tune’.  I can do it in four notes.  This one gave me the same results as most of the others; they just named the categories differently.

My favorite one that I took a few years ago labeled the categories according to geographical regions – and some of you will remember that I was found to be a Southerner.  I took a lot of heat for that – pardon the pun.  However, that is the one that I have enjoyed the most.  I will say that this newest one was interesting in the fact that it did not give you A label.  I do so HATE labels!  It gave you your five strength areas.  What was even more interesting was that I was so very wrong about what the second step would be.  I made the assumption that it would ask me to identify several weaker areas and create some goals to become stronger in them.  Not so!  Instead, it asked me to reflect on those five areas of strength and create some goals to become stronger in them…

After finishing the assessment and doing the required homework, I felt that I deserved some free reading time.  I chose a book given to me by my brilliant friend Jennie Young.  The title is The Noticer, written by Andy Andrews.    I took more time than I had earned.  I read it from cover to cover.  I then read it again with a highlighter in hand.  This was a great read and it has given me so many things to think about.  However, embedded in the story was another – shall I call it a relationship inventory?  I think I shall, because one of my strengths in the on-line assessment was being a relator.

The wise man in this book was named Jones…not Mr. Jones…just Jones.  If any of you have read The Shack, there are some common threads between the two books.  Hope I do not offend the authors with that statement.  Not to worry, neither of them is on my list of FB Friends – although Jodi Picoult is.  :)  Jones describes relationships as dialects.  He states that there are four major dialects that people use within their relationships, and then he assigns each dialect to a living creature.  Seeing I have owned each of the creatures he uses, I was sure that I could relate to what  he was going to say.

Petie - and Petie did like to be touched.  He admired himself.  He had his own mirror .

A person who speaks the dialect of Quality Time is compared to a Canary.  A canary just wants you to be with them.   “Just be with me.”  It does not matter who is with them – as long as someone is with them.   A canary never notices who gives it food or water – it doesn’t care what you say to it and it does not want to be touched.  It simply wants you to sit and listen to its song. The canary is happiest when they are being admired.    A canary will lose energy and strength – not from a lack of food, but from a lack of attention.

Muffy - although she loved kind words, she exhibited many characteristics of Jones'cat.

He describes some individuals as Puppies.  Puppies feel loved when they hear Spoken Words of Approval.  You use praise and kind words to teach a puppy.  Jones says that nothing is more devastating than words of disapproval spoken in an angry tone of voice.  The friendliest and bravest of puppies will cower and hide when they are treated this way.

Buckwheat or Calico.  Calico was all about physical contact - Buckwheat - not so much.  See why I don't like labels.

People who ‘speak’ the dialect of Physical Contact appreciate the pat on the back, the neck scratch, the belly rub, a hug and a kiss.  People who speak in this dialect can be compared to a Cat.  Cats are almost exclusively creatures of physical contact. They tend to feel most loved when affection is expressed in these ways and sometimes it is the only way they feel loved.  They don’t pay attention to what you say or do. 

And all those months, I thought Goldie did care!

The Goldfish feels loved based purely on Favors and Deeds.  You can’t really touch them.  They don’t seem to hear us if we do talk to them.  They do not need any type of affirmation from anyone around them.  They do not need quality time – in fact they really do not care if you are there or not, they simply want you to feed them and clean the bowl…”and, oh yeah, straighten the castle while you are there.”

That got me thinking about Life in General.  This assessment is really no different than any of the others that I have taken.  It all comes down to who we are and how we interact with those around us.  I have joked that I am a southerner – but that over time, I hope I have learned to walk in all of those regions.  It is important to be able to walk through these four categories as well.

That brought my thinking (perhaps it is good not to “over” think) back to a conversation that I had with my sister a long time ago.  It might have touched a chord with me because I read the book on the anniversary of her death.  She has been gone for 21 years, and the conversation took place about a year before that and it still seems like it was yesterday.  She had just been diagnosed with cancer and we knew that things were not looking good.  In this particular conversation, she apologized to me for not showing me enough affection when I was growing up.  Totally shocked, I asked her what she was talking about.  She said that in our house we never hugged a lot and I must have missed it.  I remember not remembering that I did not get hugged a lot – so we kept talking.  I asked her why she thought I missed it.  She said that I was always hugging my kids – so I must have missed it.  It was at that point that I did not have the words to respond.  How I wish I could go back in time.  I could have used the words from this book.  We all have styles of relating with people.  It does not matter if it is in our families or with our friends or in our workplaces.  We all have relationship styles and we are never going to be surrounded by a group of people who have exactly the same style we do – so we have to learn to relate.  Her perspective in that moment  - when she was wishing that she could go back in time - was that perhaps we did not show each other how much we cared when we were younger.  Well, perhaps we were not huggers growing up on Atkinson Street, so perhaps we weren’t cats all the time, but we knew we were cared for.

Even though I might have been a hugger and there might not have been a lot of hugging going on, I knew that I was loved.  There was always someone paying attention to what I said or did.  Trust me, that I remember.  Our kids played Marco Polo or did competitive dives in the pool and we had to watch them and assign them a score.  God, that got old…but I wish I could do it one more time. 

On Atkinson Street, there was no pool – but there were porches.  I would create curtains on the back porch and act out plays or perform songs and dance routines.  I am sure all of the aunts wanted to get the hook – but they never did.  There was always someone to read to me on one of the front porches or under the butternut tree.

Perhaps this is where Jones’ metaphors should become mixed.  Maybe there were not a lot of cat like behaviors, but all the rest were there.  As I think about it – all of these categories can be good – as long as they are balanced.  I love being a goldfish – sometimes.  I love being around goldfish – sometimes.  And then Jones said something else. 

He said that we should ask ourselves a question every day.  That question is:  “What is it about me that other people would change if they could?”  He is clear that he is not interested in what we would change – but what others would change.    He goes on to say  “I am not asking that you live your life according to the whims of others but that sometimes the perspective of others can be as important as our own perspective and life is all about perspective”.  I am betting that if you were to ask a cat what they would change about a goldfish, they would say that they would like the puppy to be more like them – shades of “Why Can’t a Woman Be More Like a Man” from My Fair Lady.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Doz5w2W-jAY  

Perhaps he has a point.  We should not lead our lives to please others, but we should have recognition and an understanding of their perspective.  Jones knows that life is all about perspective.  But we should know who we are.  I think it would be a better world if we could all have the characteristics of a cat, a canary, a puppy and a goldfish and know when and how to use them.  Of course, that is just  my perspective.

 My favorite comment that Jones makes about perspective is about food – and you know how I love food (Jennie's peach pie, Jennie's peach pie.  It's like a slice of heaven - Jennie's peach pie).  He brings supper to share with one of his new found friends and they eat under the dock where the friend has built himself a shelter.  As they part for the evening, Jones asks his friend what he had for dinner.  He responds that he should know what he had eaten for supper -  they had eaten the same thing.  Sardines and Vienna sausages.  Jones laughs and says that it truly is all about perspective.  “You ate sardines and Vienna sausages in the sand.  I dined on surf and turf with an ocean view.”

 So, Jennie – thanks for the book.  Busy day today.  I am off to buy a couple of his others.  I will not be able to read them until after my class though………damn!

Soooooooooooooo – whose idea was it anyway….

To make those booklets by grade level? 

They were the best.  I learned something.  That is not true.  I learned many things.  The first one – we all know.  If you want to know what people really think of you – ask a kid.  I learned quite a bit about what they think of me while reading those books – and yes, I have read them all.  I was once again amazed at the things that are important to children!  I am sure that some of them will be very familiar to anyone who happens to read this summary of those books.  I laughed and I cried.  There is no way that I can share them all – but I have chosen a few.

It is important to smile at children and to give them hugs.

It is important to say positive things to them.  One young man who spent a great deal of quality time with me wrote:  "Dear Mrs. D.  I remember the day you tried to help me and motivate me to have a good day and I did.  You gave me a loop."  That memory is worth the world to me.

It is important to let them know that you care about them and will work hard to help them solve their problems and keep them safe.

It is important to let them know that you can laugh at yourself.

It is important to make connections for and with children.

It is important to hold children accountable.

Some of the things that were written did not surprise me.  I know that the kids loved the cheers and the singing that we did at the assemblies.

I was touched when many of them remembered standing around the flagpole for memorial celebrations.  I am ashamed of myself for whining about the lost minutes of instructional time on those days.

Now I know that some of the things that they remembered came from the adults around them.  I heard your voices in their thoughts.  I could tell where there was a sentence starter her or some prompting there………….but every now and then there would be a zinger.

One of them had to do with the ladder analogy.  There were several girls who had been at each other for several days.  They were 4^th and 5^th graders.  They had received green sheets – so I went to meet with them.  It was a warm spring day and their tempers were hot and I really was not far behind them.  I finally invited them to walk down the hall and sit at the table at the top of the stairs.  They took turns telling on each other.  She told someone that…. they were looking at me…you know how it goes.

I had said everything in my bag of tricks to them over the year – so I decided to try something different.  I drew a ladder and I asked them if they knew what it was.  They did not say DUH! but I am pretty sure they were thinking it.  I asked them if they knew what the word inference meant.  None of them did – but one of them said that it probably had to do with the word infer.  I said that it did.  She knew what infer meant.  We teased out the meaning of the word inference and I labeled my rather crude drawing as The Ladder of Inference.  I explained that we had learned about it at a class for teachers.  We talked about the fact that they really did not know that someone had been saying something mean about them…but they had inferred it.  They now had to make a choice as to whether they were going to climb that ladder or stay at the bottom and try to work it out.  I explained that I really wanted to climb the ladder and infer that all of them should receive a major and a day of ISS.  I asked them to convince me not to climb that ladder.  After a fairly lively discussion, I sent them back to their respective classes.  I had two thoughts as I made my way back.  One was ‘well that amounted to nothing’ and the second was ‘I know that it will not solve the problem’. 

I was right on one count.  It did not solve the problem.  However, the girls quite often referred to the ladder when we discussed specific incidents that had taken place.  What did knock my socks off was that three of them mentioned the ladder in their memory page.  And that reminds me of another thing I know.  I know that the work we do is seed planting and we never know when the seeds take root.  I was so amazed that the ladder came through in the stories – I hope it stays with them.

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to see myself through their eyes.

 

The Party's Over!

“Why did you do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.'  You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.”

The culprits!

E.B. White

 (Click on the link below for background music.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOqyygAQSX0 This is a tricky blog to write…first of all because there is no way that I could include all of the pictures!   Thank goodness you can see them all on Facebook.  It also would be tough to top the real yard sale blog.  That was one of the funniest adventures I have had in a long time.  I have neverbeen a yard sale person.  Not as a seller or a buyer.  In my lifetime, I have been to one as a buyer and have helped with three as a seller.   I doubt that you will ever see me participating in one again – in either role.  It was just TOO much fun.

I so wanted to hit the goal of five hundred dollars.  Kate and I knew that we could do it.  One of the things I discovered is that yarding is a form of gambling.   Once on a roll, you become addicted.  When you want to hit that goal…you become risky.  On Saturday night, we knew that we needed to make $70.00 to reach the goal.  I began looking for stuff that we could sell.  I thought about bringing out some of the good stuff, but reason prevailed.  For a short period of time on Saturday, I wore a sticker that advertised me as being for sale for three dollars.  Nobody expressed any interest.  One man asked if we had any antiques.  I pointed to the tag and said:  “Just me”.  Again – no interest – except in David’s truck. 

On Saturday night, I told David that there were beds up in the attic that we will never use again.  He told me that he was going to take them to the dump that Kate said no one would buy them.  I said that made no sense at all.  I had seen some of the stuff that people bought and there was no reason that someone would not come along to take those beds – and if I was wrong, he could take them to the dump after we closed the tent down.  I told him that every thing mounted up – and even five dollars was better than taking t hem to the dump.  I think I may have had a bit of tone in my voice.  The tone was to continue.

My poor sister suggested that we go to Harlow’s for breakfast on Sunday.  She periodically suggests that we have dinner or breakfast out on Sunday to save me from getting dinner.  I could not believe that she wanted to go on this particular Sunday.  There was work to be done and things to be found that might sell.  Kate suggested that if we were not going out to breakfast that I might be willing to stop at Allen Brother’s for cider doughnuts.  Of course I would.  I needed sour cream to go on the baked potatoes that I was going to have with the BBQ beef and pork ribs that I had gotten at Lisai’s for Sunday dinner.  David did not want any doughnuts – so I only bought two for Kate.  (Remember this – there is a point to this part of the story – somewhere).   I saw corn on the cob and asked David if we should get some for dinner.  He said that he did not want any and that we had plenty of food anyway.  I said that Kate might like some – I think I may have bit of tone in my voice.  He bought four ears.  (They are still in the fridge.)

My first clue!

We then proceeded home.  As we turned the corner, I wondered how much stuff Kate had lugged out of the garage.  She and her dad had considerable conversations on Saturday night about how the tables were to be set up and the prices that the remaining junk would go for.  They had a clear plan that would sell all of the remaining items for two prices – thus making it easier to get the tables set up for the last day.  I could see that the tables were set up differently, but there were more than two and there were paper lanterns hanging from the tent.  I am not going to type what I said – but I am betting that most of you who know me can hear the words that came out of my mouth.  Within minutes my sister arrived – mostly to make sure that I had not killed Kate…but she also wanted a doughnut – think back – how many doughnuts did I buy?    She put her hands on her hips and expressed her displeasure about the fact that I had not gotten her a doughnut…………and there was tone in her words.

Thank God it is behind glass!

As the afternoon progressed, everyone’s tone changed.  It was a wonderful opportunity to see many friends – from several different school districts.  It was a reminder of how fast 40 some odd (and some of them have been REALLY odd) have flown by.  They have been good years and it was a wonderful way to celebrate them.  So, Kate – I don’t know why you did it, but I am glad that you did.  I really don’t know how you pulled it off without my knowing it – that is hard to do.  It is my understanding that you told that fact to the world at large.  I hear you told them that I was nosy and that if I had the least inkling that something was going on, I would badger them until I uncovered the whole story.  Where in God’s name did you ever come up with a cockamamie idea such as that?

However cockamamie it was – it was a great afternoon.  As I said many times that day – it was better than any wake.    I was reading one of Anna Quindlen’s books this week and I came across this sentence lead in:  “ “The retirement parties I’ve attended always had an underlying pathos….” I was fortunate enough to have had several parties – and none of them had a sense of underlying pathos – but this one did have the joyous characteristics of an Irish Wake.  If I had been lying there, unable to respond, I would have given us all “ a two thumbs up”. 

It was one of those moments when I realized what a lucky person I am.  I stole another thought from Quindlen’s book:

“When I coach students through essay writing, I invariably give the most able the same direction:  go deeper, go deeper.  In each iteration, reveal more, more of who you truly are, of what you are and of what you really think.  That’s the hallmark of aging, too, that we learn to go deeper, in our friendships, in our family life, in our reflections on how we live and how we face the future.  The reason we develop an equanimity about our lives and ourselves is that we have gone deep into what has real meaning.”

I have had the opportunity to live that.  I have been fortunate enough to live through several ‘iterations’.  In each of them, I have been able to go deeper.  In each of them, I have had the opportunity to come to know and share, and love.

The final thought that I stole from the book is a thought that I thought was mine.  If you do not believe me, ask Mary Ann McDonald.  I shared the thought with her as we were driving home from Maple Avenue one day.  It was shortly after I had shared that this would be my last year.  She asked me how I was doing with it.  She was surprised by my reply.  I told her that I was glad and sad – but most of all, I was worried.  I went on to say that I did not know who I was.  She looked at me like I had two heads.  That is really not surprising – people look at me that way a lot.  But I explained that this was different.  I have always been somebody’s daughter, somebody’s sister, somebody’s mother, somebody’s teacher, somebody’s principal…somebody’s something…but now I was going to have to figure out who I really was. 

Quindlen puts it much more eloquently.  “It’s odd when I think of the arc of my life, from child to young woman to aging adult.  First I was who I was.  Then I didn’t know who I was.  Then I invented someone and became her.  Then I began to like what I’d invented.  And finally I was what I was again.  It turned out that I wasn’t alone in that particular progression.”

…and you know how Paul Harvey used to end his program with ‘and now you know the rest of the story’?  The clincher to this story is that the cat plates sold!  Thank you Jacqui!!!!!  Based on the fact that I know what you are going to do with them, give me a timeline and I will bake the cookies for you!

Thank you one and all to all my forever friends!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOqyygAQSX0!