Originally posted on Living and Lovin:
Remember I told you about my best friend well here she is with me on a very happy occasion, Graduation Day. I had been out of School since January and the last thing I wanted was to be apart of this ceremony. It was June, it was nice out and I had to go because Dad bought me this beautiful corsage. Not sure if it was Dad or Mom taking this photo but I am sure they told me to SMILE! I was always the kid in school looking out the window wishing I was outside. I really did not like too many teachers in the 12 years I attended. Back in school in the 60′s and 70′s too much was happening OUT THERE to be STUCK IN THERE.
I did have a female teacher MS HILL in fourth grade now she was cool! She was our science teacher and a Hippie I bet looking back on the times. She had pretty long dark hair and I swear long grey streaks from the part down both sides of her head maybe we made her prematurely grey. I remember her outfits as do all the boys from my fourth grade class I am sure. Mini skirts were all the rage. Our school had to add partitions to the fronts of the desks, as they were not mini skirts they were micro mini’s! It was the only class I saw the boys sit in the front two rows, normally they raced to hide in back. So now really why I loved my fourth grade Science class was because she loved science and it showed. She taught us about the night-time sky and even had a field trip to a place in town where it was really dark. We came with our families and all stretched out on our blankets while MS Hill explained the stars and what each constellation was. How many teachers have that much joy that they give up a night to spend laying on the grass with students. I think of her often when I camp and spend so much time with my eyes looking up into the night sky. Where I live there is no light pollution and I swear some nights there are billions of stars just over my head. I wish I could find her to thank her for fourth grade as it was not till I went into ninth grade did I get that same feeling. It was a new school and lots of new people I had never met. There were so many classes to choose from and so many trades to try out. We spent 6 or 8 weeks in each one to see if it was match for us. I wanted Auto Body bud sadly it was 1970 and girls were not allowed in trades full of men. I wanted to sculpt cool outer shells for FAST CARS. I had friends older that were always messing with their rides. It is because of them and my Dad and all the time spent at the race track that I want to make them special. I also loved Culinary Arts we learned to chop, and dice as well as bake the most wonderful pastries We learned how to waitress and even had our own restaurant with in the school to practice at for the real world. I also took Drafting and Technical Illustrating oh and Electronics too! It was Secretarial Sciences I ended up with as I loved Shorthand! I was fast too. Then came tenth through twelfth grades and I could care less about going. I had no choice Mom would remind me I would graduate if it was the last thing she would do!
I am the star -
No, not the enchanting, twinkling stars
In the dark night sky
Those, are for dreamers.
I am the star -
The lamp to your future.
I am the brightest.
Come to me, dear children.
Into my world – your world – of A-Stars.
There are only stars, and the
There are no rainbows here for you to chase,
No fruitless quests for that pot of gold.
those, are for dreamers.
Join me in my song,
The chant of many -
Star, star, star.
A perfect, melodious harmony
Trembling with desire. Perfection. Rings in our ears.
Come to me, dear children.
I am the star that you need.
Not the twinkling stars in the night sky -
They are blind and dull.
Are for dreamers.
It’s 5 in the morning, and Marley the cat
Is screaming he’s hungry, that’s why he’s so fat
I stumble around him, on way to the loo
It’s always the first stop…admit it’s yours too!
Then head to the kitchen, and put on a pot
Of freshly brewed coffee, all steamy and hot
I tell dear old Marley, you’ll just have to wait
Can’t get our dear Gracie to meet the bus late
And as I am dressing, I’m racking my brain
In hopes that the mem’ry of dreams will remain
But rarely, if ever do I have such luck
They’re buried quite quickly in this brain of muck
I’m dressed and I’m ready, we’re out the front door
And happily head to the bus stop once more
We’re smiling and laughing and singing a song
Then here comes the bus ’round the corner ‘fore long
I wave my goodbyes and head back homeward bound
And there Marley sits, making nary a sound
I give him his breakfast, and maybe a treat
And now he can stay out from under my feet
I’m at the computer, with coffee in hand
To see what has happened in old Facebook land
Maybe I’ll blog a dear poem for you
If I can come up with a good one or two
Now off to my studies, and laundry perhaps
With thoughts sometimes swirling, like they’re running laps
But trying to focus, and doing my best
The time to relax will be after the test
When afternoon comes, Gen’ral Hospital’s on
It’s my guilty pleasure, I’ve watched it so long
And 2:30 comes and I head down the walk
To pick up dear Grace, and we have a nice talk
I ask her what kind of a day that she had
And what kind of homework, “well that’s not too bad!”
I get her a snack and we visit a bit
And then to the shower, if I haven’t yet
It’s time to get ready to head to my class
I want to do well, and not merely to pass
The classes are fun, almost all of the time
I’m glad to be learning, and I feel sublime
And now class is over, I load up my stuff
The day’s almost over, it’s not been too rough
I spend just awhile winding down this old mind
Then out of my scrubs, my dear bed looks so kind
As I lay my head on the pillow again
I lift up a prayer, and then say “Amen.”
But not that it’s all of the praying I’ve done
Throughout all the day I have talked to the One
Who blesses me daily, or may dry my tears
Reminds me He’s with me, and calms all my fears
And I close my eyes and before we both know
Another day’s over, to dreamland I go.
What are little girls made of?
Traditionally, sugar, spice and all things nice. Not sure how true this is. I know a few little girls who are like the ‘girl with the curl right in the middle of her forehead – when she was good, she was very, very good and when she was bad she was horrid.’ Not so sugary and not so nice. And a jolly good thing too, if you ask me. The need to stand up and be assertive is important for a woman as well as for a man, which may mean having the ability to be just a little bit horrid occasionally.
But boys are supposed to be made from slugs and snails and puppy dog’s tails, which is just vile. I don’t know where the rhyme came from, but the difference between the sexes can’t be that much surely?
And then I heard from a teacher the other day that she had a mum take her new baby into the classroom to show the children. All the girls and one or two of the boys came to study the infant, who obligingly smiled and occupied the class’s attention. Except for half a dozen boys, who took advantage of the (supposedly) distracted teacher.
‘Go on, I dare you. Go on’, one of the boys urged another. ‘I dare you.’
And the dare?
To lick a battery.
Need I say more?
Yes, once upon a time these sweethearts two
arrived, embroidering my heart with lace.
Each murmur, word, and baby charm with grace
moved me. I drank their smiles. And then they grew.
Now halting toddler steps, like on the moon,
mean more than just a motion. Opening,
the world becomes a stage to which they bring
their little talents morning, night, and noon.
That great big yellow bus, their backpacks new
unlock the wonders with which school will woo
them. Learn to read, do math, discover how
the world works, their ongoing job just now.
I, Grandma, stand alongside every mile
and watch as they grow up. See my wide smile?
From when these little ones walked through my door
my happy rating shot to ninety-four!