I spent about 40 minutes cleaning up the back patio today. Even though my allergist would have advised me to stay inside I couldn't help but take the time to clean up my backyard sanctuary. There were dead limbs to cut down and some weeds to pull. However most of the time was spent behind a push broom, guiding it along the brick to push away the allergen infested tree droppings.
Once the space was clear I sat down, not so much to admire my work, but to admire the live 3-D nature show that was playing before me in full HD stereo. Individual sounds included the fervent chirping of cardinals as they called to their mates over the rustling of bamboo stalks rubbing together in the gentle breeze. Doves cooed on the oak limbs as they sat in pairs and preened their feathers. In the distance I could hear the roar of traffic as commuters made they way home along the interstate. Squirrels chattered while jumping from tree to tree as the train hummed along a distant rail. It's fun to sit and focus on the individual sounds, but really, the best part was when I stopped listening for the individual parts and instead listened to the full symphony that man and nature put together for me.
I dragged myself to the gym today even though I really wanted to drag myself home to my unmade bed. Exhaustion has seeped into my bones this week. It's been the kind of week that has me feeling the weight of the world, and I guess that weight is getting the best of my energy level.
I sat in school parking lot at 3:15 this afternoon talking myself into that little trip to the gym. "Just get on the elliptical for 30 minutes, you know it'll make you feel better."
Surprisingly, I listened to my own advice and within 20 minutes I was plugged into the iPod and putting in my 30 minutes. The music carried me through. I felt better almost immediately and hit the half hour mark without a thought. I figured I'd stop at 45, but as I watched the clock count down to the forty-fifth minute the song changed and The Jackson Five started to sing. The infectious beat got me through another five minutes to bring my total time to 50 minutes.
Thank you Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Jermaine, and of course, Michael.
The grade six counselor came into my classroom today for our monthly class meeting. It was an open meeting; we let the students make the agenda by listing a few things they'd like to talk about. The five classes had some overlapping agenda items, but the one item that made each and every class list had to do with the lunch menu.
According to the students the lunch menu stinks. They spoke of hamburgers with unidentifiable, pebble-like objects inside them and lasagna with mushy white stuff that felt funny on their tongue. There was also talk of chicken nuggets as hard as rocks and cartons of frozen milk.
When I was a student I was always jealous of those lucky kids that got to buy their lunch every day. I would sit with my brown bag lunch containing one PB and J and a Ring Ding wishing I could go through the line pushing a lunch tray along the metal counter top. Today I found out I wasn't missing much.
I ate school lunch one time, during my first year of teaching. I ended up with cold pizza that tasted more like ketchup spread on a piece of cardboard. I've packed my lunch ever since. Today I advised the students to do the same.
Today is a free day. I should be working but I'm not. I arrived home late last night after a long day of air travel. I woke up at 8:30 this morning and although I felt a little guilty about adding an extra day to my three-day weekend last Friday, today I felt nothing but appreciation for another day off.
I've done four loads of laundry, soaked my swollen, blister-filled feet and lingered over coffee and the newspaper. It was a day to relax and regroup--the perfect way to end a three-day mini vacation.
It’s been a day of waiting.It was supposed to be a day of travel, but instead I’ve spent the day sitting.The only things moving have been my eyes as they track the people walking by in the airport.
My first flight was supposed to leave New Orleans at 12:25 pm.It did not; the first text message I received from the airline said there was going to be a delay of about 45 minutes.The plane was coming from Miami and the weather there was creating quite a few flight problems.My friends and I settled in with a cup of coffee and a few beignets at a small café in the airport.
The text messages continued on a regular basis.Take-off time kept changing, getting pushed back later into the afternoon.The two-hour layover we had in Miami was slowly disappearing.
Our coffee and beignet breakfast turned into lunchtime and one more opportunity to snack on catfish, shrimp and red beans and rice.At 2:00 we made our way to the security line to catch our 3:00 pm flight to Miami.
And then, finally, a break in the monotony!Out of nowhere, or at least nowhere that I was looking, came a group of 12 – 15 men in suits with the tell-tale ear buds and squiggly wires hanging out of their ears.Security...but for what or who?There were police cars outside near the gate, as well as a lot of men trying to look inconspicuous as they surveyed the airport waiting area.
We were finally able to board at about 2:30 pm, but it seems our high profile citizen was also on our flight.The security detail led the way and he was boarded on the plane first.A man in front of me smiled and shook hands with the celebrity guest as he made his way to the gate.
Curiosity got the best of me so I turned to the excited man in front of me, “Do you know who that is?” I asked.
“It’s the president of Honduras.” He replied.
Wow, I thought.I had to wonder why he wouldn’t have his own plane to fly on.And then I hoped that he doesn’t have a lot of enemies, because if he does I don’t want to be on a commercial airline with him.
As I walked through the fortunate people in First Class to make my way to my seat in the back of the plane I looked for Mr. President, but he was not there.To my surprise he was sitting three or four rows behind First Class in Coach.
Things must be tough in Honduras these days.
Epilogue:
I spent another two hours waiting in Miami.At 8:35 the flight that was originally scheduled to leave at 5:50 pm took off for Washington, DC.There isn’t one empty seat on the plane.If all works out we should land at about 10:55 and I’ll be home by 11:30, just in time to make my midnight deadline.
Bourbon Street is one of America's surviving carnival-like sideshows. Walking down the street last night the show offered up a mime taking a break with a 48-ounce beer in one hand and a cigarette in another. There were also tap dancing adolescents and barkers calling to passers-by in hopes of luring them into their establishments. I saw bachelorette parties and one bachelor who came out with friends dressed as a king crab. Young men stood on balconies overlooking the show and offered plastic beads for the chance to see bare breasted women. Of course, they got their wish. Music poured out of the bars and clubs that line the street, as did dancing patrons who perhaps found the dance floor provided inside a bit too confining. It is an exciting and depressing place to be.
After nine hours of travel that included a three-hour visit to Chicago I arrived in New Orleans early Friday evening. There were many sights and experiences along the way, including the cab driver that spent the 10-minute drive to the airport telling me why Adolph Hitler was the greatest historical figure of the 20th century. His description also included an explanation of a game he plays using Wikipedia called "Six Degrees of Hitler." It wasn't really what I expected to be hearing at 8:00 in the morning; yea, it was the most uncomfortable cab ride I've had.
