It’s Friday morning and I have already started to wonder where the time went, but I already know. Time on vacation goes much faster than real time. Even when you try to make sure time is counting or days are counting.
I remember when my dad would travel, before my parents divorced, he would send us postcards. It was great fun to get a postcard and short message in the mail from him and even after my parents divorced, he would send a postcard now and then, from where he travelled. Of course, this was before e-mail, text messages, smart phones, and Facebook or other social media sites. Postcards were the social media! I have tried to bring back the art of the postcard and send one or two, or even more from wherever I am.
A couple of weeks ago, my phone buzzed I looked down to see I had a comment posted to my about page and it was from the Undeaddad. He had nominated me for the Liebster award an award given to Bloggers by Bloggers and I am honored. I’ve been at this blogging thing for almost three years and I’ve been mentioned on other blogs a couple of times and given a previous award, but never followed up on it. That’s on my list of to dos or wishes, and I can change them to I wills. More on that later.
I stumbled across the Undeaddad after he had been Freshly Pressed for writing about shoveling snow. It was a great post that encapsulated my feelings about work and pride. He has written several more posts that resonated with me, most recently about ‘date nights’ and children who are picky eaters. If you have time, please give him a whirl.
Spring Break 2013. Every year I look forward to this week on the calendar. It’s a break from the normal and an escape to a slower pace. For the kids, and my students, it’s a break from school and signal that the end of the year is near, very near. I am certain they had a day count going to the time when the bell rang and they could rush home and begin their break. I worked to make sure that the day was full of learning and had enough structure to keep them focused and tuned in. For the most part, I was successful, when we come back next week the sprint to the end begins and I’ll have to deal with another day count. Continue reading We’re here…→
Normally, I would be driving to school right now, but instead I am home in the basement nestled in my cave. It’s a snow day. The weather guys predicted the storm several days ago and the media is in full hype. Right now, there is less than half an inch covering the sidewalks and roads, but it is predicted to get worse, probably much worse with the bulk of the snow arriving midday just in time to release kids to walk home from elementary schools with unplowed roads and snowy sidewalks. It is just a bad idea.
The call came in at 5:23 from my kid’s school district announcing that “due to the expected heavy snow, all school and afternoon activities for Tuesday, March 5th are cancelled…” My district called a couple of minutes later with the same news. I’d already been waging a war with the alarm clock, and losing, I might add, when the phone rang. I turned the alarm off and W came in to make sure he could sleep until he wakes up, he was excited, but probably not enough to keep him from falling back to sleep. I tried going back to sleep, but I couldn’t so I got up and went downstairs. Continue reading A NO SNOW snow day→
I had been looking forward to last weekend for almost a month because I knew it would be a good opportunity to visit one of my favorite shopping haunts – a hobby shop. Unfortunately, circumstances foiled my scheme.
We have a railroad layout in the basement, not twenty feet from where I sit, dream, plan, write, grade, fume, and for the most part, avoid real work. I suppose I could be over at the table avoiding work instead of sitting here, but the layout has been gathering dust for the at least the past year, perhaps two, who knows, I’ve lost count. I have been lured away from my railroad by other activities – family, sports, scouts, school, and you can just about name it, whatever it was it had a higher number than railroading. Continue reading Old toys→