Goodnight, Nana Upstairs and Downstairs...

On October 9, 2009, my dear Nana went home to be with Jesus, her husband and her parents. She had been sick for the past eight weeks. On August 22, I took her out to get her nails done and we had lunch. That Monday morning she became unresponsive for about three days, then a week later we had a scary episode with her blood pressure during which she was EERILY lucid. Over the next six weeks she had good days and bad days. She pretty much was bed ridden. Only on one occasion, Labor Day weekend, did she not know me. Lindsey came to visit her the weekend before she passed. Piper had gotten to visit several times. She had been in a wonderful home, the kind of place I dreamed for her in the beginning, a place of love, light and kindness since April. They let me bring Piper to visit, they fixed her hair everyday and put lotion on every inch of her skin so that she was always so soft... They were with her when she passed peacefully in her sleep.

The day she passed I had come to visit. I read her Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs. She used to read it to me when I was little. The folks at the home feel that the book gave her permission to go home and she finally, gracefully exited into the next plane of existence.

My life feels surreal with out her. She was my anchor, she needed me and she was "my person." Yet I cannot just let go and cry. The reckoning is coming I am sure. Grief is a real and palpable companion in her place. Even while no longer living with me, she was always there, a presence in the back of my mind and now that space is painfully vacant...

Nana was, in my opinion, one of the sweetest, funniest, most of the wall ladies I ever knew. She had a full, amazing and love filled life.

I will miss her until the day I die and I see her again.

And I thank God for the gift that she was for the time that we had her.

Goodnight, Nana Upstairs and Downstairs.

You are kidding, right?

Normally that kind of title would be attached to a post about my mom. No such luck this time. This is a post about Camp. Specifically how ridiculous administration, bureaucracy and "quality control" are when it comes to common sense and H1N1... if you don't know what that is, look it up. I'm not going to "say" it.

Apparently a camp somewhere else had a problem with it. Now "they" feel I should "screen" 1000 people a week in three hours for said issue and send people home or make them wear a mask...

Do people not read. This "pandemic" is of less consequence than the typical flu! Now people want to be stupid or better yet proactively moronic about it. Meanwhile seems like some people here might even be seeing dollar signs as groups want to come to our camp rather than the "contaminated" one. But that means we have to appear hyper vigilant and capable of handling this "crisis." Which by the way hasn't even made CNN, but is a big deal... Whatever.

Shame they haven't increased my staff, no matter what I've asked... Shame I never got that new MedLodge no matter how many times promised... Shame this is my last summer. No percentage in staying for crazy behavior... I can get that for free at home and get a better night sleep.

Seriously?

Moments...

So here I am, my last Week 1 of camp. And I find myself noticing the "moments." You know those instants in time that are special, priceless and become part of you, there whenever you need a smile.

The campfire last night, "That's it! I'm not teaching underwater basket weaving anymore!" and, "I'm sorry, you are just not big enough to fill my scrubs!"

Not to mention breakfast at Miss Meg's (though once we get the adjustment right on the band, that will be gone faster than everything else...) and the tap on my door, "Sandy, can we talk?" Those moments are priceless and irreplacable...

Course, watchin Mark spin himself into the floor and self-centered, self important scout masters... Those are things I won't miss.

Whatever it takes, right?

So let's take a minute and make sure I got this right...

You, (mother), said that you would be here Friday so that you could take care of my dogs this summer. Then you called to say it would be Saturday, but you would totally be there, so all I had to do was have them at the house and you would be there by 7PM to let them out and feed them (riiight...)...

Now you want me to drive five hours up and meet you halfway at a hotel and give them to you... Tomorrow...

So I am calling friends to see who can help give mom extra time... She swears she'll be here by Wednesday...

Note me not holding my breath...

Camp has started

And so, once again, it begins. I have completely finished my responsibilities at the high school and am now firmly entrenched in what is going to be my final full summer at camp.

Deciding that Camp needed to be a finite experience for me was hard, but I see now that there are other things I need to do and move on to... That's not to say that I won't be back to visit, maybe even do a short stint (a week or two) here or there, but this is the last real thing. I think I'm OK with that, but...

Setting up the clinic, cleaning up, organizing getting ready to accept Homesick and Injured campers (not to mention dealing with the JNROTC cadets who are here for this week... who by the way are whiny wimps!) seemed both satisfying and oddly sad. Saying goodbye to an old friend.

There was one delightful young man who came in explaining about horrific pain in his knee that is now causing back spasms. I asked what he did to injure the knee... He said he didn't know it has hurt for a YEAR! I asked what his physician said. He said that as he has no insurance he has never seen a doctor. While that is possible, how did he get up here to camp without a physical. Anyway, I pointed out to him that I am not a doctor and do not carry an MRI in my pocket. Then we got to the meat of the issue. "Well, can you tell my Gunny I can't run today?" Well now that you mention it, "No, that is something you need to discuss with your Gunny." Seriously these ROTC are just sad. I hope this experience toughens a lot of them up... The came in on the first day and comments were made that my boys were the sissy's, so to speak. Well who can't hack it now!

Yep, Camp has started.

Soap and Surgery

First and foremost I have to tell everyone about this awesome soap I found. Well, actually it found me. My friend, Beata, is doing an Internet business that sells this authentic, organic, french soap. I've already tried Rose, Oat Bran, Lavender, Lemon, Coconut, and palm oil. Seriously, Awesome! Check her out...

http://www.frenchsoapstore.com/

The next big news is that I had Lap Band Surgery on Tuesday. Unlike Gastric Bypass, in the end, I have to do the dieting myself, but the band is a tool that helps me control hunger and make better food choices. I think it is the right option for me. So I did it. Dad and Kay came up to keep me out of trouble. I spent hours and several people spent day getting the house in order to prepare for their visit.

Now I have three lacerations healing on my belly and I feel like I got punched in the upper abdomen, but other than that it's not so bad. The diet while I heal is brutal. Liquid. Nothing stays in my stomach and so I actually feel empty, not hungry exactly, just empty and hollow. I'm working on solutions to that.

Dad and Kay left this morning and Mom should be here this weekend.

Snow!

On Sunday it snowed. This was a good news, bad news kind of thing. It was all summed up, good news and bad news in one sentence...

Mom was supposed to leave... but it snowed.

The thing is, I like having people in the house and with therapy she is really much more pleasant to deal with (my therapy, she quit a couple years ago). Also, I like having Nana around. However, I am also accustomed to being an adult single woman who lives alone. Mom, Nana and mom's dog, Ellie, can be a bit much when I only have two bedrooms and two dogs of my own...

Monday was a snow day. It was nice to sleep in, curl up with a book, enjoy the pretty scenery, general snow day-ness. Does tend to make students a bit crazy when we get back, though...

Oh, and the whole point of where I live in the south is being far enough north to get seasons, but far enough south that I don't have to carry de-icer in my car. So.

Interesting weekend.

First the eyes, now EARS!

Today, this morning, actually, I took off my CZ studs that I have been wearing for months and found that either they were completley made of a metal other than silver or steele, or there was only a thin coating and me and my acid skin ate it away, leaving my ear lobes exposed to it. Surrounding the holes in my ears is a quarter inch radius of angry, inflamed, scaly, skin.

I have EAR LEPROSY!!!!

So first it was the styes, in my left eye, so that it was a swollen, irritated, puffy mass. Now it has moved onto my ears...

I imagine within the next few months my mouth will errupt into cold sores....

See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

This chain of events makes me wonder, you know...

Meanwhile...

I have EAR LEPROSY!

YUCK!

Favor...

Today I got a phone call from a friend.

"This is an odd request, but remember our friends, we told you about, that had the little girl with a brain tumor? She died this week. Today is the funeral but we need someone to stay at the house in case people come by..."

How could I say no? Why would I?

I did not know this little girl, only four, who lost her life this week. I did not know her parents or her baby sister. I had prayed for her since I knew of her back in October of last year.

Today I sat in her house, her living room, surrounded by her toys and pictures, flowers and cards, playing with her dog, for three hours.

She was a happy child. That was clear. As that her parents loved her very much. A draft of the eulogy the parents wrote was lying on the table and I read it.

When I spoke to my mom on the phone, she was stricken, "What can you say about a four year old in a eulogy? They haven't lived yet..."

So I told her what it said and she cried with me. This child had lived. She had taught, she made a place such that her absence will be felt...

I sat in this house, surrounded by the vestiges of her life and I felt cheated that I had only known of her... not actually known her.

My friends called and thanked me profusely, promising a dinner or favor and gratitude. I said if my presence in the house of strangers could grant them some small comfort or absence of worry as they let their child go back to God I needed nor wanted no "payment."

Just the remnant of spirit that I shared in that house was a gift enough.

Heaven is brighter for our loss, I have no doubt. I can't imagine the pain of the people who had held her in their arms, for all the comfort that knowing that brings.

Tonight my prayers are for them.

25 things about me.

Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

(To do this, go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click post.)

1. While I've learned to live with it, I really resent my height for competing with the other good things about me for most noticeable quality.
2. While I happen to be a damn good teacher, I think I would have been just as good an officer in the USN. And I really would have enjoyed being a ship driver...
3. I really do think the Boy Scouts is a saving grace in this country.
4. I probably won't but I would love to chuck it all and go to Paramedic School and be an ambulance rat.
5. Sometimes I pretend that I'm lazy, even though I know I'm not.
6. It bothers me when people compliment me for taking care of Nana, cause I don't know that there was any other choice.
7. I really think I am a good cook. When my Dad said he would pay for a meal I cooked in a restaurant and be happy with it, I was really proud.
8. I would trade all of my Dad's compliments about my cooking if he would just one time tell me he thought I was pretty.
9. I tell my students I don't care if they like me, and that's the biggest lie I tell.
10. I think men should have enough balls to ask women out the first time and I think the whole women's lib thing has really ruined men in America. See #3.
11. While I am excited about my new job opportunity as the gifted coordinator at a new high school putting myself out there to ask for the position was terrifying and I am still scared I'm going to screw this up.
12. Other than my Dad, I have only had two hugs that really made me feel safe and protected.
13. I think I got gypped at both of the chili cook offs at my school. Mine was totally the best both times.
14. It bothers me that I can't beat Kanika at Scrabble even though I am an English teacher and English is not her first language. But I still like trying and it is relaxing to get to play Bea and Chuck...
15. If I can ever make my living as a writer I will spend a lot more time traveling and hanging with my friends. Miami is still probably my favorite place to visit but not live.
16. The part I hate the most about teaching is dealing with parents. They make too many excuses and too many of them are "drinking the koolaide" when it comes to their kids.
17. I have only met one person who is better at getting lost than I am. He's my brother.
18. I like singing. But I need to spend more time with lessons in order to be any good. When I'm not "working out" my vocal chords, I think I suck as much as I'm good when I practice.
19. If I'm still single when my dog Roo dies, I think I may really loose it and people will have to come and put me back together.
20. I love sci-fi, books, TV, movies. Farscape was the best series ever in my opinion, Star Trek Enterprise never really got the shot it deserved and Firefly's cancellation was a crime. I even like bad sci fi. I can't seem to get into the new Galactica though...
21. I think William Carlos Williams' "This is just to say..." is the most romantic poem ever written. unfortunately (actually I really like it) I have to explain about my great grandparents and theories on love in order to get anyone else to see it that way. That's why I teach it no matter what grade or subject I'm teaching. I figure one day when I see commentary about how romantic it is, I'll know that I have truly been an effective and prolific teacher.
22. If I could do five weeks over they would be (in no particular order) A) The week before homecoming of my senior year, B) The week leading up to and including the Navy Marine Birthday Ball my Freshman year of college (actually I'd love that whole year as a do-over, but would settle for that week). C) The second week of the fall production when I taught drama D) The last week of camp 2006 and E) The week before I started graduate school.
23. It bugs me that people think I am confident and capable all the time, but then it bugs me when people act like I can't do something.
24. I really love it when people play with my hair.
25. I know I look awesome in blue, but I like red best.

***26. Extra Credit: I may be an English teacher, but I really suck at spelling.

Forgiveness

As every semester my students read The Scarlet Ibis by Hurst. The question of responsibility, fault and guilt of children is a prominent issue. It is an issue close to home for me.

Today I did something different. I called my brother to ask forgiveness for wrongs I had done him when we were kids. Not just to apologize, but to ask forgiveness.

The two are different.

The second one is more important.

Oh Dear!

Today in class a student announced,

"O-M-G! That is so weird! L-O-L!"

My children are speaking in text.

Then on the Burger King Billboard on the main thoroughfare through town it said

Stake Biscits for Brakefast!

But best of all.

I said to my mom, in regards to Nana,

"Remember, whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto me."

Nana stood up and announced.

"Come on Susan! It's time to give Baby Jesus a bath!"

My little brother turned 30 last week. I find that more upsetting than my own 33rd birthday yesterday... Then I also realized a dear friend, who I remember as a sweet little thing turned 18 last week too...

OMG!

Veteran's Day

I sent a letter to my dad and my step-mother today, thanking them for their service to our country.

It occurred to me that my family's history of military service is something I take for granted. It is simply part of my heritage, my history, it makes up who my family members are.

So today I took a second to thank my family not as a daughter, granddaughter or niece, but as an American. My family has literally given over a century of service to this country and the ideals it represents. It seems right that election day is so close to Veteran's Day. They are the price that we pay... or that is the freedom they paid for us....

My dad answered with a simple thanks. He said it mattered to him that I had the thought as most people seem to view Veteran's Day as just a day off and a day for sales... I also see so many talk about those dead, and we should remember their ultimate sacrifice, but I also hope that we stop and thank the living, men and women who are living monuments to our freedom, burnished bronze, forged in courage and tempered in honor for us.

There are so many forms of service and there are so many who serve, those in ministry, civil service, education and medicine who we owe so much, but today, we should take that moment and thank specifically those men and women who have given so much for the rest of us to be free to serve others, to get an education, to have such amazing health care available to us and to have the voice in our own government.

Thank You.

In Honor Of Halloween

My two favorite Halloween Poems... One more silly, one more sinister, both classics, though one is more high brow than the other... Enjoy!

Porphyria's Lover
By Robert Browning


The rain set early in to-night,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listen'd with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneel'd and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soil'd gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And call'd me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me—she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me for ever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I look'd up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshipp'd me; surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laugh'd the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untighten'd next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blush'd bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propp'd her head up as before,
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorn'd at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gain'd instead!
Porphyria's love: she guess'd not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirr'd,
And yet God has not said a word!

and

The Little Orphan Annie
by James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphan Annie's come to my house to stay.
To wash the cups and saucers up and brush the crumbs away.
To shoo the chickens from the porch and dust the hearth and sweep,
and make the fire and bake the bread to earn her board and keep.
While all us other children, when the supper things is done,
we sit around the kitchen fire and has the mostest fun,
a listening to the witch tales that Annie tells about
and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!

Once there was a little boy who wouldn't say his prayers,
and when he went to bed at night away up stairs,
his mammy heard him holler and his daddy heard him bawl,
and when they turned the covers down,
he wasn't there at all!
They searched him in the attic room
and cubby hole and press
and even up the chimney flu and every wheres, I guess,
but all they ever found of him was just his pants and round-abouts
and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!

Once there was a little girl who always laughed and grinned
and made fun of everyone, of all her blood and kin,
and once when there was company and old folks was there,
she mocked them and she shocked them and said, she didn't care.
And just as she turned on her heels and to go and run and hide,
there was two great big black things a standing by her side.
They snatched her through the ceiling fore she knew what shes about,
and the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!

When the night is dark and scary, and the moon is full
and creatures are a flying and the wind goes Whoooooooooo,
you better mind your parents and your teachers fond and dear,
and cherish them that loves ya, and dry the orphans tears
and help the poor and needy ones that cluster all about,
or the goblins will get ya if ya don't watch out!!!

Happy Halloween!

(Note, while I am aware of some more sinister connotations to this holiday and have never condoned ritualistic or occult practices for exactly that reason, I do feel that in a loving and supportive family/community this "holiday" can supply a lot of good lean fun for children and adults alike. I also believe strongly in a parent's right to disagree to that to, so long as that opinion is not forced on me. There are a lot of great churches that have "Fall Festivals" or "Pumpkin Parties" for the kids and those are terrific alternatives too. I have participated in a lot of those over the years. In my class I focus on spooky and interesting literature during this time period, just as I focus on more romantic pieces in February, because as a shameless promoter of literature, I'll use anything I can to grab a kid's attention and get them excited about literature!)

Go read something scary and if it's good, share it with a friend!

Move-Ed

So now I am moved.

This process has taught me something. I hate moving. They are going to have to carry my cold dead rotting corps out of that house feet first before I move again... Or if I really have to, I'll just burn it to the ground and have insurance get me new stuff... No packing!

Going from 1700 feet to 1200, it looks like I was shoe horned in to this place. There are boxes everywhere. Roo is furious with me. She keeps giving me this look followed by the most put upon sigh any teenager ever uttered...

Also.

Yesterday I grabbed a pull over dress of mine because it's easy and doesn't wrinkle. Only I couldn't find my slip. So I got this idea. I used my red satin nightie... yeah. Looked fine standing up, but when I sat the full skirt with ruffle trim was clearly visible below my neutral toned dress. Note to self...

Also, I think, I have way too much stuff.

But!

I am going to see "Wicked" on Saturday. That I am totally pumped about. I will find my slip before then!

Moving

Here I am again, it seems. Moving.

Moving is a weird thing to me. I've done it so often, there is no excitement, though there is also no fear... I know this animal.

Lately I feel unsettled. Maybe that is by definition the moving... When I am in the new place, unpacked, I will feel settled again.

Right now I doubt it.

So much of my instinct seems off lately, discombobulated...

One way or another, though, come the 11th of October the movers will be here.

I am moving.

Political

It never ceases to amaze me how people act in regards to politics and philosophy.

For the past three weeks I have been working on an in depth unit with my students on To Kill a Mockingbird and Raisin in the Sun. We have discussed race relations and prejudice, racism, sexism and general ignorance. In all of these conversations there have been two constants, we have to talk to each other and we have to stop making differences a personal affront...

Here's the thing, it is not a matter of intelligence or personal worth which political philosophy you favor. Frankly, most people really don't even favor one political philosophy over the other, they have a set of preferences which maybe hit more on one side than the other, but it is rare to see a complete line up on wither side. The reality is, most people are good people, who want the best for the country and specifically their children and loved ones (not to mention themselves) and simply differ on how to go about that...

Even if you disagree with Bush policies (and statistically a large population of Americans do right now)that's fine, we have elections every four years and he can only serve two terms total no matter what so that if we disagree we can replace him hopefully with someone we agree with more... But do you really believe that he knows or believes that what he is doing is wrong? Does it make sense that it is the President's secret intention to destroy his own county? Is he really a bad man?

Is Obama or McCain a bad person? They are human to be sure and clearly have made mistakes in their lives as well as some very significant successes. Why does it have to be personal? If I get a second opinion from a doctor and it is different than the first, so I call into questions the morals and values of the doctor I don't agree with? They are both trying to help me, right? Shouldn't that speak well of both of them. Should the two doctors call into question the morals and ethics of the other because they disagree... Education, training, experience may be a factor and can be discussed, but why does it need to be personal if both doctors want the best for the patients health.

If two people are interviewing for a job, the question becomes who is the best person for the job... Not, why shouldn't the other guy have it.

Also, I need to note, I am not interested in personal political statements in my comment section. Really, not what this blog is for. Thanks.

Pardon?

We've been working on the unit for six weeks...

Friday was the test...

Young lady walked right up to me.

"So, do I have to take the test today?"

"Why wouldn't you take it today?"

"I was absent yesterday."

"Well that was unfortunate."

"I missed the review."

"But not the six weeks of the unit before hand..."

"So I have to take the test today?"

"Yeah, go figure."

Then same child's mother decided she wants to start popping in, unannounced to observe me, because, "I like to keep teachers on their toes..."

And the woman took notes!

But, on the better note, I get to go to ENGLAND for two weeks this summer!

Yay me!

Break...

Yeah, yeah yeah.

I'm a horrible person.

So the styes cleared up. I chopped off my hair (and it's cute). Nana should be back soon. I'm moving to the town I teach in. Mom is moving to the same apartment complex. I'm taking grad classes. To be an administrator, which I doubt I really want to be, but... I think I've reached the angry point in therapy. I am angry with everyone sometimes... but I also am handling it now.

My diet and exercise are completely out of control, but I'm trying to get back on track. I still need to get the consult on Lap Band surgery. I also need to talk to a doctor about the cyst I have on one of my ovaries... they said it was small only 3 cm. I pointed out that ovaries are only 3 cms... so it's like having an extra one in there. I still get out of breath and sweat like a pig...

I'm trying to be proactive about meeting people and developing a social life. Turns out men/boys are oblivious and dense as door nails. I have tickets to Wicked, but he has to ask me out on a date first... I'm giving up on the dream.

Two amazing friends who I thought I had lost both looked me up this past month. Wow! One informs my past and the other my future.

Oh and again, everyone is pregnant or giving birth. So I am still a fertility goddess in the sadly single sense of the word.

Sorry I took a bit of a break.

I'll try to be more proactive.

Owwwwiiiieee!

So, two weeks ago I had a stye... a glorified pimple in my eye.

Now I have two, one on my upper lid and one in the lower. Pain is acheiving new definitions in my life. Not to mention how ridiculous I look. You know how the muppets have huge eyes and there is a ridge along either eyelid (obstensibly where the seem is) yeah, that's what I look like on that side.

So then today was parent's night. How am I supposed to convince parents that I am not the ogre from the seventh circle of hell that my students say I am when I look like I got punched in the eye by rabid ninjas while walking an old lady across the street.

Trying to fix this thing is worse. Picture me, no contacts and you can't wear glasses while fooling with your eyes... so picture me, in front of the mirror, muppet eye, trying to get these stupid styes to rupture (pop!) by squeezing and then resorting to a very sharp needle... Lucky I didn't end up in the ER... Hate to explain THAT injury.

Both have ruptured as of now, and are mostly cleared out of their disgusting viscous poison goo... but the redness, swelling and pain, not to mention tears are all still there...

And, while I was home today rolling in agony my second period decided to stage a revolt. I will show them revolting. Little Miss Muppet Eye is about to make them write essays until their hands fall off... HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Oh dear! The pain has gone to my head. Where is my Tylenol PM?

Home

Got home Sunday night, got Nana moved back home and then spent all day Monday sleeping...

Today I have ordered a new licence (lost my wallet in a movie theatre a week ago, what a mess) and am taking Nana to do nails. We still have things to do before I go back to work on Friday.

Mom should be here on Wednesday and she will take Nana with her for a "visit" next week. That will give me time to set up a new system here.

Also in about three weeks I go back to graduate school to get my leadership add-on. The idea being that no matter what it will make me a better teacher, but I will have the option of being an administrator if I choose and someone wants me to administrate... I don't think I would like it long term, for all that I think I would be good at it. The classes should be interesting.

My students arrive next Thursday. I am actually looking forward to the new experience that a new class is...

More than any other summer, I am simply glad to be home, for all that things really are a mess right now...

I am ready for Fall.

Maybe it's time

To be done.

Maybe my perspective isn't right anymore.

Maybe I'm not as important as I thought I was.

Maybe this isn't the right place for me anymore.

The "Sandy, you're the best"s just don't seem sincere and don't really matter.

They did not thank Lynne, or Mark or Carnell or Dennis or any of those who work so hard behind the scenes. Yes, that includes me, but that isn't this singular issue.

It is wrong to do it for the sake of getting recognized... that would make me no better than Mr. Bird. But I can't shake the feeling that there was more to be said and it wasn't. If Mike hadn't Daniel really should have.

Mark always says when it's not fun anymore you should go home.

This is starting to feel more like co-dependence than fun.

I could also be tired, but it doesn't nullify the point.

I've got to figure out what to do with Nana, going back to Grad school (and the bill it creates...), figure out the car, deal with school in general and then of course there is my health and my weight and the concern that my heart, through no fault of it's own might explode out my chest...

Maybe it's time.

What they have become...

So let me make sure I got this right.

One group of staff went out last night and got very drunk and were too hungover this morning to make formation... They were directors.

One group was up too late and out too late and made a huge mess of the vans... and then one threw away medical forms in the process of cleaning up.

One group got together and let all the boats and canoes loose in the lake... this is staff mind you. They did not help gather them back up.

Then the group that runs the lake threw a temper tantrum and refused to clean it up until class started and so two periods of kids will not get their merit badges in boating and canoeing... kids who worked hard and paid their money same as everyone else. The program director supported this temper tantrum.

So I took the food I usually make for Friday afternoon directors doing grades and gave it to the kitchen staff. All that cheese and mexican food would not have been good on hung-over, self indulgent, lazy stomaches...

Meanwhile Mr. Bird complains to anyone he can find that I did not give him an X-mas present, but other people got them... Not that he gave me one mind you and he won't say anthing to me about it... Go figure. I feel guilty... that I don't feel guilty. I gave rpesents to who I wanted to and I was under no obligation to give one to anyone. This is not kindegarten where I have to give a valentine to everyone even the kids that are mean to me...

What a bunch of self indulgent children they all are.

I weep for their lives...

Late Night Resolve.

The lady that runs Nana's personal care home called last night at 9:30 PM. She was nearly in tears... at one point was crying... Nana is miserable. I spoke to her at length too. This is not working.

The four months, especially the time I am at camp was nessesary. But I cannot keep going through this.

So I spoke to my mom and my brother. Nana is coming back to me. Then maybe she'll spend a few months with mom this fall, maybe not. We'll see. But I need her back, she needs her dog and I am no longer comfortable with the care she is recieving there...

There is actually more comfort in this decision than panic. It's the right thing to do.

I will not let my Nana be that upset and scared if I can help it...

She is coming home.

Sick!

OK, so I was sick. It started as a cold. Standard head cold virus kinda thing. Two days down and then I was better. Then it got worse again, the hacking cough joined the party and there were funny colors not from the pretty rainbow...

Thankfully a doc at camp gently patter my shoulder and said, "Please, let me help you..." Wonderful man! He gave me 750 mg of Leviquin. I am happy to report that after another two days down, that anything bacteria-y that was living in me is quite dead now.

So now I am better. The fourth of July passed. I tried to sing for the show, and choked on a bug during America the Beautiful. Very attractive and melodically...
Yeah right.

I've also now had two run in's with administrator types, Victorious types, who are morons and suffer from the delusion that they are the John Wayne of Boy Education. May it bite them firmly in the but! I should be so lucky. My luck I will be thrown under the bus like my predecessors on these kinds of fiascos. No I cannot and will not be more specific. HIPPA and Youth Protection dictate that. Morons!

Also, I am now almost blindingly strawberily BLONDE! God Help us All! I'm getting used to it.

Did I mention it is Christmas in July...?