I love sports. Football is my favorite sport, followed closely by baseball and auto racing, though auto racing does not get my interest as much it once did. The truth is that I enjoy just about any kind of competition.
Last week, I was invited to go to the White Sox game and tailgate with a group of men. I knew one of the men, Mark a teacher at my school; the other two were teachers in my district from other schools I didn’t know. The four men go to a White Sox game at least once a year and tailgate; they even travel to see an NFL game together. I joined because, Kip, one of the men, was sick, he has ALS and couldn’t attend. We had a good time, but for the entire trip, I was Kip. The trip was a ritual of sorts – getting ready, driving downtown, the seats in the van – I sat in Kip’s seat, parking in the same spot, setting up, cooking, eating, picking up, even to playing a game of beanbag toss. I had a good time, but the Sox lost.
On the way out of the ballpark one of the guys remarked,
“You know, every time we come, they lose. Maybe we shouldn’t come as a group!”
“Nah, that’s not it, the Sox suck. The pitcher gave it away today.”
It’s Super Bowl Sunday and for the last four Super Bowls, I’ve made a prediction and every year my prediction has been a fail. Epic fail. Last year’s prediction was the worst ever. So this year, I won’t predict, I won’t share which team I am rooting for, I won’t tip my hand in any way. I just want to see a good game that keeps my interest until the very end, and of course I want to see some good commercials.
Last night I went to bed and the snow was beginning to fall. The weather guys began predicting a major snowstorm on Wednesday or Thursday and the hype has been building since. When I flipped on the radio yesterday, it was all I could hear – major snowstorm, blizzard warning, yada yada yada! The grocery stores were nuts yesterday as folks were out getting bread, milk, and eggs – in case we were snowed in. This morning when I peered out the window, the trees were coated and it was lovely. The snowplow had yet to clean the street and everywhere I could see was covered with a think velvety blanket of fresh snow.
It’s Super Bowl Sunday. The sun is shining and it appears that we will have school Monday, for the first time since December. I think we will have to have an orientation about what to do on a Monday.
It snowed yesterday coating the yard (and everything else) with a fresh coat of white powder. It is beautiful. I looked back in time and last year we hardly had any snow, less than 5 inches had fallen for the 2012-13 season. So far, we have 52 inches and the forecast calls for snow Tuesday and again, Saturday. I think it has all fallen here. I was talking to another teacher after school Friday and we both got to laughing about a joke letter that we had seen years ago. My mother in law sent it to me when we bought the house and I had to learn to shovel snow. I don’t remember how much snow fell that winter, but I do remember feeling a love-hate relationship with snow when March rolled around. I have since lost the original, it was grainy from being copied repeatedly, but thanks to the internet most things worthwhile (appropriate and inappropriate) can be found with relative ease. Here it is, Diary of a Snow Shoveler.
Today is the fortieth day of my summer vacation. Unlike Phineas and Ferb – who live world of a hundred and four days of summer vacation, mine ebbs and flows depending on the school district’s calendar. This year summer break is eighty days long, last year summer break was seventy days and the year I began Making the Days Count dot org, it was eighty-two days. Today, I am in the first half of summer vacation and when tomorrow comes, it will be the first day of the second half and the countdown to the first day of school will be on.