:)

I often wonder if I am too connected. With Facebook, Blogger, E-mail, cell phone...people pretty much always know what I am doing. I am reachable at any time. Is it unnatural to be so accessible? I'm not sure I have the answer to that question yet, but I do have an interesting story. Yesterday on Facebook, I was put in contact with my 8th grade teacher, Mrs. Broadsky. I remember her well. She was one of my favorite teachers, and guided us all through our first term papers. I did mine on the Blue Whale. When we graduated in 1997, she retired. She was so encouraging, unfailingly positive, and always ready to guide her students tenderly through what we as 8th graders thought was the most confusing and dramatic time of our lives. In fact, I can't believe all the memories that Mrs. B brings back. I remember well all of the teachers at my elementary school, and how each one helped me along my way. It is truly amazing the impact that teachers can have on their students lives. I know I will always remember them.
Yesterday when I got home from work Brian was telling me about about some trouble his sister, who is a teacher, was having with a student. She teaches 2nd grade, and one student was giving her problems, and acting out continuously in class. She called a meeting with the child's parents, presumably in hopes that they could tackle this problem together. The students father came in, and when confronted with his child's bad behavior, was defensive to the point that he launched a personal attack on her character. He made it about race. He had no intention of working as a team with the teacher who had reached out to him for the sake of his child. Unfortunately, his kid is the one he really hurt by reacting that way. Anyway, the point is that she reached out. And that although it's only natural to be discouraged and upset by the irrational dad that she met with that day, 98% of the kids in the classroom that she walks into every morning, will remember her in 15 years, and throughout their lives. Maybe they'll find her on Facebook, and thank her, as I did yesterday with my teacher. Maybe she was the only consistent thing in their lives that year, or the only smile they saw each day. Brian was wondering out loud last night as he was telling me about this...why in the world does she teach in such a rough area? Although we both agreed that it's commendable, it can't be easy. Nothing that's worth it ever is.
My teacher from 8th grade, Mrs. B, got on facebook 6 days ago, and has since had 75 connections made from previous students, all with fond memories. It made me think of Melissa, and hope that she knows that although there will ALWAYS be difficult people to deal with no matter what job you have, she will always have students that look back and remember her. Who was your 2nd grade teacher? Mine was Mrs. Tyler. :)

**some details of this post have been changed to protect the identity of the characters....like the fact that Brian's sister teacher FIRST grade...not 2nd. duh. :)

Pictures from this week

Country Mouse & the City Mouse

The "Farm" 5:45am

The day starts when the sun rises & I go out to feed the animals. The world just looks different here. There's dew on the grass, and the air is cooler. The mist is just lifting off of the ground. The sun is rising a fiery orange against a pink sky to the east, but the moon still lingers above. The horses greet me each morning with soft sounds, not demanding their breakfast, but welcoming me to be a part of their morning. Lucy pads alongside me where ever I go, a constant companion as I complete my morning tasks. She is just happy to be where I am. The sound of crickets chirping gradually gives way to the crescendo of the birds as they too greet the dawn. A new day has announced itself and as I breathe it in, I can't help but wonder: how many of these morning have I missed?
The beginning to a typical day in my life starts with the blaring of an alarm clock followed by a frantic rush to get ready for work. I sprint to my car, and my feet touch nothing but asphalt. I don't notice the sky, except to wince because it feels like the sun is burning my retinas out as I drive eastward towards the office. In my mad dash, I've forgotten my sunglasses again. At work, I'm in my office all day. If I'm lucky I'll leave for lunch, but often that does not even involve getting out of my car. When I return home, after picking up the house, making dinner, and completing some of the other mundane tasks that demand my time each day, I am usually surprised to look out the window and see the darkness. A whole day disappeared. It's easy for me to understand now how on some days I feel so stressed out, weary, and utterly tired. I am so focused on my "life" that I have forgotten that there is a whole world breathing around me, and in comparison I am just a tiny little cricket chirping into the wind. This reminds me that there is a bigger picture...so much bigger than I am, and I take comfort in that, because things should never become so big and important that we think we are all that matters. How far off track do we have to be to think that we are bigger than the very thing that sustains us?
I need to be better about reminding myself to slow down. I don't want my days to fly by...I don't want to wonder in 50 years where they have gone. I want to soak them up slowly, and I want them to matter.
It's amazing what a little time in the country can do to feed my soul. I just need to find a way to incorporate it into the city.

Or get my city boy to move to the country. ;)