Oh, the joys of summer vacation for all of us teachers! In what other profession can you enjoy two months off (mostly, except for curriculum work or recertification work or summer jobs because you can't make a living as a teacher). Summer is a much needed time to rejuvenate those batteries. And boy, do the batteries need to rejuvenate!
Not that those little darlings that we teach are the cause of low batteries. Well, okay, maybe they are the cause. Or at least one cause. Along with long staff meetings, curriculum meetings, committee work, workshops, PETs, standards, homework correcting, grade calculating, assessments, inventories, budgets, parent-teacher conferences, negotiations, book reports, evaluations, administrators, parent phone calls, technology, snow days, sick days, personal days, sporting events, concerts, plays, room unpacking, room packing up, grant writing, newsletters, plan books, grade books, fingerprints (here in Maine), open houses, parent nights, Maine Learning Results, MEA Tests, No Child Left Behind, priority lists, budget cuts, staff reductions, OSHA, DHS, staff training, DRA tests, SATs, step up day, assemblies, detention duty, recess duty, lunch duty, bus duty, field trips, school boards, professional reading, 504 meetings, gifted and talented, differentiated instruction, modifications, local assessments, not to mentions teaching.
Whew! Maybe I am ready for two months off. Do I smell something burning? Is that burnout I smell. Hopefully two months will be enough. Who says teachers are overpaid? I'm not sure there is enough money in the world to pay for all that we do. So why do we do it? Is it the two months off in the summer? Nope, certainly not. Two months isn't long enough, really. So why do we do all that we do for the pay that we get?
Because being a teacher, despite all the headaches listed above, can be very rewarding. Have you ever watched that light bulb go on inside a kids head after you have sat with him or her for five minutes trying to explain a difficult topic, that light bulb that starts in the eyes and quickly spreads to the mouth and then to the whole body, that light bulb that says, "I get it now!"? Have you ever seen that? That is called learning and THAT is why we teach.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Monday, April 03, 2006
Red Sox: Schilling, Lowell off to good start
The Red Sox opened their season today with an impressive win over the Texas Rangers. Curt Schilling looked like the Schilling of old. That was very nice to see. One of this year's question marks is Mike Lowell, who had a lousy season at the plate last year, after 4 great seasons. He had a home run in today's game, which I see as a real good sign. He only hit 8 homers last year, after averaging 25 each year for the former four seasons.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Maine Hysterical Society
I had the chance to see the Maine Hysterical Society perform last night at a fundraiser for the senior Project Graduation trip at Belfast Area High School. I laughed until I cried.
The Maine Hysterical Society consists of three men, Randy Judkins, Barney Martin and Steve Underwood, doing sketch comedy, much of which is what I refer to as "Maine Humah" (Maine humor). They do a combination of singing, comedy sketches, juggling, and just all-'round silliness.
Judkins plays Sunny Day, who parents named him that because it was. Sunny Day is a juggling, singing, funny guy. Underwood plays Russell Spurwink, a Maine hick who sings and tells jokes and is as good playing the straight guy as the goofball. Then there is Martin's character, Emmitt Pickitt, who does. As in the guitar. This numb-nut can also by goofy, yet can play a wicked good guitar, can sing descent, and can even get into the physical comedy.
The show was a riot, as these three very talented nutballs kept the audience in stitches. It was a two hour show and when it was over I kept asking myself where the time went. I could have watched another hour, and this is coming from a real homebody. I even gave up watching "Deal or No Deal" to see these guys (although I taped it, if I programmed the VCR right).
I'd go see them again, even if it went missing Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. If you ever get the chance to see the Maine Hysterical Society live (mostly), don't pass up the chance. They were wicked awesome.
The Maine Hysterical Society consists of three men, Randy Judkins, Barney Martin and Steve Underwood, doing sketch comedy, much of which is what I refer to as "Maine Humah" (Maine humor). They do a combination of singing, comedy sketches, juggling, and just all-'round silliness.
Judkins plays Sunny Day, who parents named him that because it was. Sunny Day is a juggling, singing, funny guy. Underwood plays Russell Spurwink, a Maine hick who sings and tells jokes and is as good playing the straight guy as the goofball. Then there is Martin's character, Emmitt Pickitt, who does. As in the guitar. This numb-nut can also by goofy, yet can play a wicked good guitar, can sing descent, and can even get into the physical comedy.
The show was a riot, as these three very talented nutballs kept the audience in stitches. It was a two hour show and when it was over I kept asking myself where the time went. I could have watched another hour, and this is coming from a real homebody. I even gave up watching "Deal or No Deal" to see these guys (although I taped it, if I programmed the VCR right).
I'd go see them again, even if it went missing Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. If you ever get the chance to see the Maine Hysterical Society live (mostly), don't pass up the chance. They were wicked awesome.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
My Grandma, who just passed away
My Grandma, whose name was Mary Wilberta Falconer Mills, although everyone called her Mae, passed away today, January 15, 2006. I don't know if anyone will ever read this, but I think this is good therapy for me and will be good for me as part of the grieving process. If I am the only one to ever read this, I've accomplished my goal, which is to get down my thoughts about Grammy Mills.
First, the details about her death. She had been fighting breast cancer for years and for at least the last year we have known she was terminal. She had also been fighting Alzheimer's Disease, and I am actually grateful that it was not the Alzheimer's that eventually took her life, as I find that a cruel disease. At her worst, Gram tended to repeat herself and sometimes got relationships mixed up. Gram had been very lame for some time, but fell a week ago and needed to be helped in and out of bed, to the table and bathroom, etc. This past Friday, she was very uncomfortable and she suggested she be taken to the emergency room. They discovered she had pneumonia and admitted her. After further study, they discovered the cancer had spread to her lungs. They gave her just days to live. Friday night she was uncomfortable, but the doctor gave her something to let her sleep. Saturday (as well as Friday) she had numerous visitors, but she did not wake up all day (to my knowledge). Sunday morning, she woke up long enough for my Aunt Jan to tell her all the people who had visited her, she smiled, and stopped breathing.
It is going to be rough on my grandfather, Ray. They had been married 61 years.
I have some incredible memories of my grandmother. The hard part is figuring out where to start. The best place to start is at Camp. Gram and Gramp own a camp on Center Pond, in Sangerville, Maine. That is the closest place to Heaven as I have ever been. I remember spending the night with them, sleeping in the bunkhouse. Gram would sleep in the big bed, and my brother Allen, sister Karen, and I would sleep in the bunks. The sounds of the water, the frogs and the loons would always put us to sleep, eventually. Grammy would always wake before us and by the time we would got up and went over to the camp, she would have French toast, bacon and sausage waiting for us. Camp consisted of swimming, playing cards (cribbage, Australian rummy, or 63), visiting, and eating, often on the picnic table out back. Gram had that unusual swimming stroke, swimming backwards to the float with her head and feet out of the water. Many of us tried many times to duplicate her stroke, and some of us can come real close today, after many years of practicing.
When it wasn't Camp season, we three kids would also visit with Grammy and Grampa for weekends, at their house in Dexter. I remember many a Saturday night, getting into our pajamas and watching Lawrence Welk, while eating popcorn drenched in butter, and I do mean drenched. Gram would usually take us out to dinner at least once while we visited, sometimes to the Log Cabin in Newport, or T.J.'s in Dexter, or, my personal favorite, the Wagon Wheel, in Guilford. I would always have fried clams, and Gram usually did, too.
Who can forget Gram's whoopie pies? And all the other sweets she would make. All the care packages sent to grandkids or nieces and nephews at college, always with plenty of whoopie pies. In fact, Grammy would not let one person she knew go without. If someone she knew died, she'd be at their family's doorstep with a casserole. If someone was sick or injured, she baked something for them. If they were not nearby, she'd send them a card. Birthdays and holidays brought cards from Gram. Grammy was always writing letters or postcards. When I started college, if I didn't get at least two notes a week from Grammy, it was unusual. After college, when I was living on my own, I'd get notes or phone calls from her several times a week. I can imagine what Gram and Grampa's phone bill was like, with all the calls she would make during the course of a week. Of course, her phone calls would never last more than 2 or 3 minutes. She just needed to check in with everyone, to make sure they were okay. It gave you a great sense of comfort when Grammy called.
I remember going to Grammy and Grampa's and visiting with Gram at Dr. Stewart's Office, where she worked for many years. Usually it would be for a few minutes while she finished up with work at the end of the week. She was the optometrist's assistant and secretary, and pretty much ran the place.
I remember running into people when we were visiting Grammy, and having not just a few, but many people tell me just what a wonderful person my Grandmother was. And I certainly believe them. Sometimes it was someone who had Gram in school back when she was a substitute teacher. Sometimes it was someone she had sent a card to, when they needed it most. It was always someone whom Gram had touched in some way. And we seemed to run into them everywhere.
At Christmas time, Gram and Grampa would make the trek from Dexter to Searsport early in the day on the 24th. We'd attend the Christmas Eve service, in those days in Searsport, always a candle-light service. Then we'd have Christmas Eve dinner, usually at Jan and Ron's. Gram and Grampa would always sleep at Mom and Dad's. Christmas morning, when most kids would be awake by 6:00 waking up Mom and Dad so they could open Christmas presents, with us it would be Gram waking us kids up at 5:00. Of course, she would say it was to see if we needed to use the bathroom. Of course, once we were up, Gram would suggest we might just take a little peak. Of course, once we took a little peak, well, you can imagine the rest.
I always thought it was funny, too, how Gram would always hint about what she'd love to have for Christmas, and after Grammy and Grampa got back to Dexter on Christmas night and they'd unwrap their presents to each other, she would get just what she had been saying she really needed. I know Mom suspected that Gram was telling Grampa what to buy her or perhaps even buying it herself, so the next year she would offer to pick something up for Grampa so that Grammy would have at least one surprise. Mom or Aunt Jan would pick it up, wrap it and send it up to Dexter, usually on an early December weekend visit from the grandkids. Low and behold, Gram would come down at Christmas hinting about how much she would like or how much she could use the very gift that was under their tree waiting for them to get back to Dexter. It was pretty obvious that Grammy liked to peak at her presents.
There is so much more that could be said about my Grandma, but I've hit some of the highlights.
I know exactly what Heaven is like for Grammy. It consists of a small, bright yellow camp, with a screened in porch that overlooks a pond, loaded with fish and loons. There is a bunkhouse off to one side, waiting for grandkids, nieces and nephews. Fishing poles are hung at the ready. There is an endless supply of baking ingredients, for making all kinds of treats, especially whoopie pies. There is the most well kept outhouse a short walk from the camp, which Grammy can make easily, as her legs no longer hurt her. Cribbage boards and cards are in good supply. In fact, I'm sure Gram has already played a game of cribbage with Uncle Johnny. Even though this is Heaven, the camp would still need to be cleaned from time to time, as it wouldn't be Heaven if Gram didn't need to clean. It would definitely be spotless after Gram got done with it. And there would be plenty of kids to bake for and swim with. I'm sure it won't quite be heaven until that day, hopefully not for many years, when her whole family joins her there. And of course, she'll make sure the cribbage board is ready for Grampa, when the day eventually comes for him to join her.
We all lost a little bit of ourselves when Mae Mills died. But we are better people for having know her. We love you, Gram.
First, the details about her death. She had been fighting breast cancer for years and for at least the last year we have known she was terminal. She had also been fighting Alzheimer's Disease, and I am actually grateful that it was not the Alzheimer's that eventually took her life, as I find that a cruel disease. At her worst, Gram tended to repeat herself and sometimes got relationships mixed up. Gram had been very lame for some time, but fell a week ago and needed to be helped in and out of bed, to the table and bathroom, etc. This past Friday, she was very uncomfortable and she suggested she be taken to the emergency room. They discovered she had pneumonia and admitted her. After further study, they discovered the cancer had spread to her lungs. They gave her just days to live. Friday night she was uncomfortable, but the doctor gave her something to let her sleep. Saturday (as well as Friday) she had numerous visitors, but she did not wake up all day (to my knowledge). Sunday morning, she woke up long enough for my Aunt Jan to tell her all the people who had visited her, she smiled, and stopped breathing.
It is going to be rough on my grandfather, Ray. They had been married 61 years.
I have some incredible memories of my grandmother. The hard part is figuring out where to start. The best place to start is at Camp. Gram and Gramp own a camp on Center Pond, in Sangerville, Maine. That is the closest place to Heaven as I have ever been. I remember spending the night with them, sleeping in the bunkhouse. Gram would sleep in the big bed, and my brother Allen, sister Karen, and I would sleep in the bunks. The sounds of the water, the frogs and the loons would always put us to sleep, eventually. Grammy would always wake before us and by the time we would got up and went over to the camp, she would have French toast, bacon and sausage waiting for us. Camp consisted of swimming, playing cards (cribbage, Australian rummy, or 63), visiting, and eating, often on the picnic table out back. Gram had that unusual swimming stroke, swimming backwards to the float with her head and feet out of the water. Many of us tried many times to duplicate her stroke, and some of us can come real close today, after many years of practicing.
When it wasn't Camp season, we three kids would also visit with Grammy and Grampa for weekends, at their house in Dexter. I remember many a Saturday night, getting into our pajamas and watching Lawrence Welk, while eating popcorn drenched in butter, and I do mean drenched. Gram would usually take us out to dinner at least once while we visited, sometimes to the Log Cabin in Newport, or T.J.'s in Dexter, or, my personal favorite, the Wagon Wheel, in Guilford. I would always have fried clams, and Gram usually did, too.
Who can forget Gram's whoopie pies? And all the other sweets she would make. All the care packages sent to grandkids or nieces and nephews at college, always with plenty of whoopie pies. In fact, Grammy would not let one person she knew go without. If someone she knew died, she'd be at their family's doorstep with a casserole. If someone was sick or injured, she baked something for them. If they were not nearby, she'd send them a card. Birthdays and holidays brought cards from Gram. Grammy was always writing letters or postcards. When I started college, if I didn't get at least two notes a week from Grammy, it was unusual. After college, when I was living on my own, I'd get notes or phone calls from her several times a week. I can imagine what Gram and Grampa's phone bill was like, with all the calls she would make during the course of a week. Of course, her phone calls would never last more than 2 or 3 minutes. She just needed to check in with everyone, to make sure they were okay. It gave you a great sense of comfort when Grammy called.
I remember going to Grammy and Grampa's and visiting with Gram at Dr. Stewart's Office, where she worked for many years. Usually it would be for a few minutes while she finished up with work at the end of the week. She was the optometrist's assistant and secretary, and pretty much ran the place.
I remember running into people when we were visiting Grammy, and having not just a few, but many people tell me just what a wonderful person my Grandmother was. And I certainly believe them. Sometimes it was someone who had Gram in school back when she was a substitute teacher. Sometimes it was someone she had sent a card to, when they needed it most. It was always someone whom Gram had touched in some way. And we seemed to run into them everywhere.
At Christmas time, Gram and Grampa would make the trek from Dexter to Searsport early in the day on the 24th. We'd attend the Christmas Eve service, in those days in Searsport, always a candle-light service. Then we'd have Christmas Eve dinner, usually at Jan and Ron's. Gram and Grampa would always sleep at Mom and Dad's. Christmas morning, when most kids would be awake by 6:00 waking up Mom and Dad so they could open Christmas presents, with us it would be Gram waking us kids up at 5:00. Of course, she would say it was to see if we needed to use the bathroom. Of course, once we were up, Gram would suggest we might just take a little peak. Of course, once we took a little peak, well, you can imagine the rest.
I always thought it was funny, too, how Gram would always hint about what she'd love to have for Christmas, and after Grammy and Grampa got back to Dexter on Christmas night and they'd unwrap their presents to each other, she would get just what she had been saying she really needed. I know Mom suspected that Gram was telling Grampa what to buy her or perhaps even buying it herself, so the next year she would offer to pick something up for Grampa so that Grammy would have at least one surprise. Mom or Aunt Jan would pick it up, wrap it and send it up to Dexter, usually on an early December weekend visit from the grandkids. Low and behold, Gram would come down at Christmas hinting about how much she would like or how much she could use the very gift that was under their tree waiting for them to get back to Dexter. It was pretty obvious that Grammy liked to peak at her presents.
There is so much more that could be said about my Grandma, but I've hit some of the highlights.
I know exactly what Heaven is like for Grammy. It consists of a small, bright yellow camp, with a screened in porch that overlooks a pond, loaded with fish and loons. There is a bunkhouse off to one side, waiting for grandkids, nieces and nephews. Fishing poles are hung at the ready. There is an endless supply of baking ingredients, for making all kinds of treats, especially whoopie pies. There is the most well kept outhouse a short walk from the camp, which Grammy can make easily, as her legs no longer hurt her. Cribbage boards and cards are in good supply. In fact, I'm sure Gram has already played a game of cribbage with Uncle Johnny. Even though this is Heaven, the camp would still need to be cleaned from time to time, as it wouldn't be Heaven if Gram didn't need to clean. It would definitely be spotless after Gram got done with it. And there would be plenty of kids to bake for and swim with. I'm sure it won't quite be heaven until that day, hopefully not for many years, when her whole family joins her there. And of course, she'll make sure the cribbage board is ready for Grampa, when the day eventually comes for him to join her.
We all lost a little bit of ourselves when Mae Mills died. But we are better people for having know her. We love you, Gram.
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