I have got to go hiking more often.
This Saturday, I finally took the hike I’ve been promising myself since pretty much forever. Hiking is something I claim to love, even though I only go once or twice a year. That really ought to change, don’t you think? I had a great climb up Wildcat Peak in Tilden Park in the early morning, and then spent the late morning winding my way down through the park and avoiding my students, several of whom were out with their families, enjoying the day.
I’m something like six months into this blogging experiment now, and I’m beginning to feel a little ambivalent. When I got started, I had a purpose: keeping a loving long-distance community abreast of our struggle, and giving myself a place to vent, rant, and try to make sense of things.
Sometimes I even write concise, pithy titles for my blog posts. Not this time, suckas! Oh Lord, I’m tired.
- Back to work this week. The children were delightful and angelic the first day, and then a mess the rest of the week, which pretty much sums up my behavior as well. Things should be more normal next week. It was damn hard getting back into the routine of waking up early and working all day. My re-adjustment was compounded by the fact that everybody asks “How was your break?” as a casual conversation starter, and I have to decide each time if this is a person who needs to hear about how my break really was.
- I worked Saturday morning at my school’s open house for prospective parents, earning me many points in the eyes of my boss and the chance to get a fresh look around campus. It is becoming clearer to me that it’s not the school that’s diametrically opposed to everything I believe about education and classroom management, it’s just my co-teacher.* This is frustrating and encouraging at the same time.
We have a new bed, and it’s all I can think about. Well, almost all I can think about.
We chose it last Saturday, and it was delivered last night. It’s a firm, queen-size mattress with a pillow top, and the whole thing just feels like unimaginable luxury after months of sleeping on Faramir’s old bed. He’d be surprised to hear me say what affection I have for that bed. It’s where I first told him I had a crush on him. It’s where we first lay and held each other, until sand from a day spent at Ocean Beach spilled out of my pockets and all over the sheets. But let’s be brutal, here. Nostalgia aside, the bed was small. The mattress was so beaten down that sheets meant for a full bed were large and baggy. Every time he rolled over, I practically fell out or fell into the middle. The springs rang like church bells–not the hour-chiming kind, but the carillons of the English countryside.
Ohh, the new bed. I have gone into the bedroom today for no other purpose than to run my hand over it. Sleeping in it last night was incredible. I am honestly excited about going to bed; I mean, even more excited than I usually am. But a new bed wasn’t the only thing we bought last Saturday. We went to an estate jewelry store that he likes, which turned out to be about a block away from where my Uncle Mike used to live, and chose an engagement ring.
Yup. We’re gonna get married. (Or, to put it the way I think about it most of the time, “We’re gonna get married!!!!!!!1!!!”) Does that mean I get to be a shield-mistress? Shield-madam?