Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Picture Day
June 24, 2009
Picture Day
I absolutely hate having my picture taken. I know hate is a strong emotion, but that is my verb I am using and I’m stickin’ to it. I know they are unavoidable, but that doesn’t mean I have to like the process. In my 6 years of teaching, I have managed to avoid getting my picture taken three of those years. I had enough pictures taken of me the last five days of October of last year (when The Moving Wall was in town) to last me the rest of my life and my children’s lives. Although I know that I have lost fifty pounds in the past year, when I look at a picture of me, I can’t see where I have lost any. I think I can now understand how people with eating disorders can be skin and bones and still think they are a tub of lard. We do have the yearly ritual of having family group pictures made at the reunion we have every year. I consider the photographer of those shots (usually a cousin) to be a professionally paid redneck photographer. We actually counted the double chins on family members in one of those pictures from a few years ago and we stopped when we got to 24! I used to think that I was developing a horrific case of wrinkles. Then I replaced the mirror in my bathroom and discovered that my wrinkles were actually the cracks in the glass-the result of the obligatory perusal of myself in the mirror just before I leave the house. When one of my students ask me if I have a mirror, I just get this hysterical laugh and look at them as if they have asked me if I have a million dollars!
Free Writing Topic for 6-30
Things I carry....
Starting right here…right now
The baggage from the past
Gets routed to the unclaimed area
I do not want it anymore.
Therefore, I will not claim it.
It weighs me down…
Diverts me from my purpose
On this trip called life.
At one time, my baggage
items seemed so important.
Today, those relics from the past
I no longer want nor have a use for.
Therefore, they are sent to
The special place reserved only for
Unneeded baggage such as mine
Lighter than before and unfamiliar with
The freedom of unwanted baggage,
I step onto the escalator of life
Not knowing where it will take me but
Knowing that it will move whether or not
I am in step.
Apprehensive, yet excited… I begin
The next stage of my journey.
Starting right here…right now
The baggage from the past
Gets routed to the unclaimed area
I do not want it anymore.
Therefore, I will not claim it.
It weighs me down…
Diverts me from my purpose
On this trip called life.
At one time, my baggage
items seemed so important.
Today, those relics from the past
I no longer want nor have a use for.
Therefore, they are sent to
The special place reserved only for
Unneeded baggage such as mine
Lighter than before and unfamiliar with
The freedom of unwanted baggage,
I step onto the escalator of life
Not knowing where it will take me but
Knowing that it will move whether or not
I am in step.
Apprehensive, yet excited… I begin
The next stage of my journey.
Free Writing Topic for 6-29
June 29, 2009
Whatever happened to...
When did it become socially acceptable to become commonly rude? When did seeing how rude you can be to someone become such a game? It makes it hard to go in public at times because of the effort it takes to deal with the rude actions of people. Who died and said that it was okay to let your kids run wild, whine loudly and bother other people when in a restaurant? If my children misbehaved in public, not only would they lose the privilege of eating out, but of also doing whatever was planned afterward. When did the pendulum change and it suddenly became the thing to see how much disrespect you can show your teacher. One of the most draining aspects of being a teacher is the constantly evolving mind games that kids today play. Do they get up one morning and said “How can I make this day almost impossible for my teachers to deal with?
When did it become acceptable to act like a real patoot to those around you in the movie theater, the checkout line, even on the highway? There is like an unwritten code that the youth of today buy into that allows them to say what they think. What happened to moderation in all things. And appreciation of what you have because you worked hard for it? I am from the “good old days” and although there are many new things in society today that I appreciate and are becoming increasingly difficult to live with… rudeness, last of caring for people and possessions and loss of respect for positions that people hold are not among those.
P.S. Whatever happened to my brain...you know that saying "to just let your mind go...well, i did and it hasn't found its way back yet! I miss it!
Whatever happened to...
When did it become socially acceptable to become commonly rude? When did seeing how rude you can be to someone become such a game? It makes it hard to go in public at times because of the effort it takes to deal with the rude actions of people. Who died and said that it was okay to let your kids run wild, whine loudly and bother other people when in a restaurant? If my children misbehaved in public, not only would they lose the privilege of eating out, but of also doing whatever was planned afterward. When did the pendulum change and it suddenly became the thing to see how much disrespect you can show your teacher. One of the most draining aspects of being a teacher is the constantly evolving mind games that kids today play. Do they get up one morning and said “How can I make this day almost impossible for my teachers to deal with?
When did it become acceptable to act like a real patoot to those around you in the movie theater, the checkout line, even on the highway? There is like an unwritten code that the youth of today buy into that allows them to say what they think. What happened to moderation in all things. And appreciation of what you have because you worked hard for it? I am from the “good old days” and although there are many new things in society today that I appreciate and are becoming increasingly difficult to live with… rudeness, last of caring for people and possessions and loss of respect for positions that people hold are not among those.
P.S. Whatever happened to my brain...you know that saying "to just let your mind go...well, i did and it hasn't found its way back yet! I miss it!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
My Addiction
My Addiction…
I admit it.. I have a serious addiction…I love children’s books…not all of them mind you because I am a very selective addict. My memory of books begins with a series of encyclopedia type books we have had in our family as long as I can remember. I don’t remember the name of the books at the moment( senioritis) but I do remember that each of them have on the inside cover an onion skin page that covers a beautiful fairytaleish type drawing. Lifting up that page was almost like unwrapping a present. I remember being addicted to the Winnie the Pooh series books to such an extent that Momma forbade me to check out anymore from the school library. There were also a series of biographies of famous people that were written just for students. These books were blue and only about 200 pages long. I think I devoured everyone of those during one of my reading frenzies. How can I possibly forget the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boy books…Yep, read them all, too…! I remember the “Little Black Sambo” books… I know they are not politically correct these days, but the vision of Little Black Sambo running around the tree being chased by the tiger until they went so fast the tiger turned into butter is etched into my mind…for what purpose…who knows! But it’s there. I loved the Velveteen Rabbit story and the Little Boy Blue story poem by Eugenia Price about the boy who played with his toys then kissed them and placed them ever so gently where they belonged…
”"Now don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamt of his pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue --
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!
Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.
As I have grown older and had the blessing of my own children, I discovered a couple of books that my daughter and I share a love of. In fact, a couple of years ago, on Mother’s Day, she gave to me the book “The Giving Tree” and “Guess How Much I Love You.” As a single mother most of their lives, I always wondered if I had deprived my children of the things most kids their age had. I have discovered as they have grown into adulthood that the things I cherished as a child…the love of reading….books always available…the library card… the quiet times to indulge a passion for reading are part of the legacy I have passed on to them. So… for Travis and Sarah…my little ones now grown big and tall…
“The smaller hare is getting very tired now, it must be way past his bed-time. He looks like he might admit defeat and as Big Nutbrown Hare cradles him tenderly in his arms he is "almost too sleepy to think anymore." Then suddenly as he is tucked up in his bed of leaves inspiration comes to him, nothing after all is bigger than the sky . His last words on the subject are "I love you right up to the moon," As he hears Big Nutbrown Hare's acknowledgement that that is indeed very great he drifts off to sleep, he doesn't hear Big Nutbrown's final reply, "I love you right up to the moon - and back."…. Thanks, SamMcBratney
I admit it.. I have a serious addiction…I love children’s books…not all of them mind you because I am a very selective addict. My memory of books begins with a series of encyclopedia type books we have had in our family as long as I can remember. I don’t remember the name of the books at the moment( senioritis) but I do remember that each of them have on the inside cover an onion skin page that covers a beautiful fairytaleish type drawing. Lifting up that page was almost like unwrapping a present. I remember being addicted to the Winnie the Pooh series books to such an extent that Momma forbade me to check out anymore from the school library. There were also a series of biographies of famous people that were written just for students. These books were blue and only about 200 pages long. I think I devoured everyone of those during one of my reading frenzies. How can I possibly forget the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boy books…Yep, read them all, too…! I remember the “Little Black Sambo” books… I know they are not politically correct these days, but the vision of Little Black Sambo running around the tree being chased by the tiger until they went so fast the tiger turned into butter is etched into my mind…for what purpose…who knows! But it’s there. I loved the Velveteen Rabbit story and the Little Boy Blue story poem by Eugenia Price about the boy who played with his toys then kissed them and placed them ever so gently where they belonged…
”"Now don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamt of his pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue --
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!
Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.
As I have grown older and had the blessing of my own children, I discovered a couple of books that my daughter and I share a love of. In fact, a couple of years ago, on Mother’s Day, she gave to me the book “The Giving Tree” and “Guess How Much I Love You.” As a single mother most of their lives, I always wondered if I had deprived my children of the things most kids their age had. I have discovered as they have grown into adulthood that the things I cherished as a child…the love of reading….books always available…the library card… the quiet times to indulge a passion for reading are part of the legacy I have passed on to them. So… for Travis and Sarah…my little ones now grown big and tall…
“The smaller hare is getting very tired now, it must be way past his bed-time. He looks like he might admit defeat and as Big Nutbrown Hare cradles him tenderly in his arms he is "almost too sleepy to think anymore." Then suddenly as he is tucked up in his bed of leaves inspiration comes to him, nothing after all is bigger than the sky . His last words on the subject are "I love you right up to the moon," As he hears Big Nutbrown Hare's acknowledgement that that is indeed very great he drifts off to sleep, he doesn't hear Big Nutbrown's final reply, "I love you right up to the moon - and back."…. Thanks, SamMcBratney
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
latest venture in the field of writing
I Still Need You…
You entered my life when I was but two,
Not old enough to know or understand
how precious you would become to me.
You were by my side when I started school.
Every milestone of my life, you have been there
to celebrate, to lend your shoulder on which to cry, to
listen to me when no one else would or even could.
As we lay in bed-side by side and I cradle you in my arms
you seem to know just what I needed.
Your name- “Sarah” which means “Princess”
I have now passed onto my little “princess”
The ravages of time have not been kind to you
Your physical body shows the effects of
The journey you have taken by my side.
Your feet have been rubbed smooth
Your wispy tail is merely a cottony shadow of its former self
The pastel pink of your ears has faded in all
but the farthest tiny crevice of the tip.
These do not matter to me now.
What matters is I still love you and hold you.
My treasured bunny from Granddaddy….
when I was two and not old enough to
Understand how precious you would become to me.
You entered my life when I was but two,
Not old enough to know or understand
how precious you would become to me.
You were by my side when I started school.
Every milestone of my life, you have been there
to celebrate, to lend your shoulder on which to cry, to
listen to me when no one else would or even could.
As we lay in bed-side by side and I cradle you in my arms
you seem to know just what I needed.
Your name- “Sarah” which means “Princess”
I have now passed onto my little “princess”
The ravages of time have not been kind to you
Your physical body shows the effects of
The journey you have taken by my side.
Your feet have been rubbed smooth
Your wispy tail is merely a cottony shadow of its former self
The pastel pink of your ears has faded in all
but the farthest tiny crevice of the tip.
These do not matter to me now.
What matters is I still love you and hold you.
My treasured bunny from Granddaddy….
when I was two and not old enough to
Understand how precious you would become to me.
FYI...
here is the website that will give you a little more info on what i have been going crazy doing the past couple of weeks
http://www.nwp.org/cs/public/print/resource/2884
http://www.nwp.org/cs/public/print/resource/2884
Friday, June 12, 2009
here is my first published memoir...
Disclaimer: A memoir is an account of a memory.. this is a memory that is seared into my brain with absolute clarity.. read it at your own risk...
In The Driveway…Just that Morning
Susan L. Tucker
It was 8:00 and I was still in bed on that morning after Labor Day. I was being totally lazy and decadent while watching Tom dress for work. Suddenly the phone on the bedside table came to life with a shrill noise. Oh, man. Who is that? What do they want… ”Hello.” It was the secretary from Charles Spencer Middle School.
“Mrs. Clawson, How are you? Are you working today? We’ve just had a teacher call in sick.”
Because I could think of no reason not to go, I said, “I’m fine. No, I’m not working today. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
While I showered, Tom, my sweetie and husband of six months, fixed my lunch of a ham sandwich and chips and packed my substitute bag full of the 5 minutes time fillers, puzzles, and reading materials he knew I usually took with me-just in case. In a bit, we were both ready to leave. He walked me out to the carport and put his IKON service log book and briefcase into his car while I put my purse and sub bag in my car. I was about to get in when I heard him call my name. I turned around. He was walking slowly toward me and I had ample time to drink in the image of him. His mostly dark hair sparkled like diamonds as the sun bounced off the gray strands scattered throughout. His baby blue shirt brought out the vividness of his blue eyes. God…how I loved that color on him! He had rolled his shirt sleeve cuff up on the inside of the sleeve instead of on the outside like most men did. His beautifully tanned arms looked oh, so sexy encased inside the pastel shirt. His dark blue trousers perfectly matched his shirt and showed off his 6’3” frame quite nicely.
As he closed the distance between us, he spoke my name again. This time, however, it was very softly. I continued to watch as he walked slowly toward me. Now, he was close enough now for me to see him mouth my name “Susan.” Then he leaned in and whispered gently in my ear… “The school will wait long enough for me to tell you how much I love you. I absolutely adore you. Now, you go off to work and I will be here when you get home.”
I stretched my 5’4” frame up onto the very ends of my tiptoes to hug and kiss him. I didn’t quite reach his ear, so I nuzzled his neck and told him “Just looking at you totally takes my breath away and I love you so much. These past six months have been absolute heaven. I cannot imagine my life without you”
Then, very deliberately, we embraced so tightly not even a sliver of sunlight could separate us …
Slowly, he pulled back and placed a kiss, soft as butterfly wings, on the bridge of my nose. Enclosing my hand inside his capable, even larger hand, he squeezed it long enough to let me know he was reluctant to go, but had to. Releasing my hand and then doing a gentle about face, Tom ambled to his car. Come to think of it, the car was baby blue in color, too. As he backed out of the driveway, he stopped the car in the road long enough to wave to me, blow me a kiss and flash me his wonderful smile. Then off he went. I watched him until I could see the car no more.
I was assigned to Mrs. Anderson’s room that morning. Around 10:00, the rain, which had threatened to ruin many a Labor Day picnic and cookout the day before, decided to quit threatening and came with a vengeance! It was as if Mother Nature had suddenly unzipped the grey/black clouds in the sky and the biggest, fiercest rain drops even created raced each other to the ground. It was unlike any rainstorm I had ever seen. Reaching for the window blind and pulling it up I said “Look, kids, it is raining so hard we can barely see the building over there!”
Finally, with nerves raw from doing rainy day dismissal for 28 students and the exhaustion that comes “the first day back after a holiday” school day, I pulled into the driveway. I turned the car off, closed my eyes in relief that this long, arduous day was over. Still with my eyes closed, I paused for just a moment, replaying in my mind the memory of that scene that morning on the carport with Tom. Enough of this… He will be home soon…I have dinner to make.
I opened the car door and got out. Reaching into the back seat to get a huge eggplant Momma had given me yesterday, I noticed a white van slowly pulling up at the end of the driveway. Since we lived just off a rather busy street, I thought maybe these people need some directions; I’ll wait before going inside.
The van stopped and three men in white shirts and ties got out. Actually, they looked a lot like Mormon missionaries who ride on bikes around town. I thought How odd that they are in a van and there are three of them. There are usually only two. All three of them approached me. As they got closer, I noticed that they did not have on the nametags that would have identified them as missionaries. One man held out his hand and said “Hi, Susan. My name is Dale and I am Tom’s boss.” I tentatively shook his hand, told him that Tom had always spoken highly of him and how pleased I was to finally get to meet him. Then I remembered Tom told me his boss from Albany would be coming over sometime that week to do an evaluation on his work. Okay, now it made sense- sort of. But, wait…I had never heard of an employer visiting a wife of an employee who was getting evaluated. This was just plain weird!
Then, I noticed that the men with Dale were very quiet and did not look happy or at ease about something. Really curious now, I looked back at Dale. He said, “Susan, you know that rain storm this morning?” I shook my head up and down, and then heard him say “Well, as a result of that storm, we received almost 5 inches of rain in an hour. I said “Yes, I even pointed out to my students this morning how fierce the rain was coming down.” Boy, this conversation is getting stranger by the moment! Why would three strange men come all the way from Albany just to talk with me about the weather?
Then, I heard Dale say, “Susan, I am so sorry. During the midst of that storm, about 10:00 this morning, there was a terrible accident on I-75. Tom was involved.”
In that instance, with those words, I knew, without a shadow of doubt that my sweetheart, Tom, was dead and would never be coming home to me. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.
As I collapsed into the arms of those three wonderfully, kind men from IKON, another undeniable thought struck me. Wait! ... Tom… he knew I loved him! I had told him! And I knew…oh, how I knew…he loved me too. He had told me so…in the driveway…just that morning.
In The Driveway…Just that Morning
Susan L. Tucker
It was 8:00 and I was still in bed on that morning after Labor Day. I was being totally lazy and decadent while watching Tom dress for work. Suddenly the phone on the bedside table came to life with a shrill noise. Oh, man. Who is that? What do they want… ”Hello.” It was the secretary from Charles Spencer Middle School.
“Mrs. Clawson, How are you? Are you working today? We’ve just had a teacher call in sick.”
Because I could think of no reason not to go, I said, “I’m fine. No, I’m not working today. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
While I showered, Tom, my sweetie and husband of six months, fixed my lunch of a ham sandwich and chips and packed my substitute bag full of the 5 minutes time fillers, puzzles, and reading materials he knew I usually took with me-just in case. In a bit, we were both ready to leave. He walked me out to the carport and put his IKON service log book and briefcase into his car while I put my purse and sub bag in my car. I was about to get in when I heard him call my name. I turned around. He was walking slowly toward me and I had ample time to drink in the image of him. His mostly dark hair sparkled like diamonds as the sun bounced off the gray strands scattered throughout. His baby blue shirt brought out the vividness of his blue eyes. God…how I loved that color on him! He had rolled his shirt sleeve cuff up on the inside of the sleeve instead of on the outside like most men did. His beautifully tanned arms looked oh, so sexy encased inside the pastel shirt. His dark blue trousers perfectly matched his shirt and showed off his 6’3” frame quite nicely.
As he closed the distance between us, he spoke my name again. This time, however, it was very softly. I continued to watch as he walked slowly toward me. Now, he was close enough now for me to see him mouth my name “Susan.” Then he leaned in and whispered gently in my ear… “The school will wait long enough for me to tell you how much I love you. I absolutely adore you. Now, you go off to work and I will be here when you get home.”
I stretched my 5’4” frame up onto the very ends of my tiptoes to hug and kiss him. I didn’t quite reach his ear, so I nuzzled his neck and told him “Just looking at you totally takes my breath away and I love you so much. These past six months have been absolute heaven. I cannot imagine my life without you”
Then, very deliberately, we embraced so tightly not even a sliver of sunlight could separate us …
Slowly, he pulled back and placed a kiss, soft as butterfly wings, on the bridge of my nose. Enclosing my hand inside his capable, even larger hand, he squeezed it long enough to let me know he was reluctant to go, but had to. Releasing my hand and then doing a gentle about face, Tom ambled to his car. Come to think of it, the car was baby blue in color, too. As he backed out of the driveway, he stopped the car in the road long enough to wave to me, blow me a kiss and flash me his wonderful smile. Then off he went. I watched him until I could see the car no more.
I was assigned to Mrs. Anderson’s room that morning. Around 10:00, the rain, which had threatened to ruin many a Labor Day picnic and cookout the day before, decided to quit threatening and came with a vengeance! It was as if Mother Nature had suddenly unzipped the grey/black clouds in the sky and the biggest, fiercest rain drops even created raced each other to the ground. It was unlike any rainstorm I had ever seen. Reaching for the window blind and pulling it up I said “Look, kids, it is raining so hard we can barely see the building over there!”
Finally, with nerves raw from doing rainy day dismissal for 28 students and the exhaustion that comes “the first day back after a holiday” school day, I pulled into the driveway. I turned the car off, closed my eyes in relief that this long, arduous day was over. Still with my eyes closed, I paused for just a moment, replaying in my mind the memory of that scene that morning on the carport with Tom. Enough of this… He will be home soon…I have dinner to make.
I opened the car door and got out. Reaching into the back seat to get a huge eggplant Momma had given me yesterday, I noticed a white van slowly pulling up at the end of the driveway. Since we lived just off a rather busy street, I thought maybe these people need some directions; I’ll wait before going inside.
The van stopped and three men in white shirts and ties got out. Actually, they looked a lot like Mormon missionaries who ride on bikes around town. I thought How odd that they are in a van and there are three of them. There are usually only two. All three of them approached me. As they got closer, I noticed that they did not have on the nametags that would have identified them as missionaries. One man held out his hand and said “Hi, Susan. My name is Dale and I am Tom’s boss.” I tentatively shook his hand, told him that Tom had always spoken highly of him and how pleased I was to finally get to meet him. Then I remembered Tom told me his boss from Albany would be coming over sometime that week to do an evaluation on his work. Okay, now it made sense- sort of. But, wait…I had never heard of an employer visiting a wife of an employee who was getting evaluated. This was just plain weird!
Then, I noticed that the men with Dale were very quiet and did not look happy or at ease about something. Really curious now, I looked back at Dale. He said, “Susan, you know that rain storm this morning?” I shook my head up and down, and then heard him say “Well, as a result of that storm, we received almost 5 inches of rain in an hour. I said “Yes, I even pointed out to my students this morning how fierce the rain was coming down.” Boy, this conversation is getting stranger by the moment! Why would three strange men come all the way from Albany just to talk with me about the weather?
Then, I heard Dale say, “Susan, I am so sorry. During the midst of that storm, about 10:00 this morning, there was a terrible accident on I-75. Tom was involved.”
In that instance, with those words, I knew, without a shadow of doubt that my sweetheart, Tom, was dead and would never be coming home to me. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.
As I collapsed into the arms of those three wonderfully, kind men from IKON, another undeniable thought struck me. Wait! ... Tom… he knew I loved him! I had told him! And I knew…oh, how I knew…he loved me too. He had told me so…in the driveway…just that morning.
update on things
the past month has been super busy for me. I have had company staying/visiting at my house for most every weekend since the reunion...Travis, Sarah, Carol, Joe, Alan (visiting-not staying), Andrew and Joanie. School finally ended but my really intensive class has begun at Valdosta State just this past Monday. It is like no other class I have ever taken.. It is a super concentrated writing class..we do several different kinds of writing assignments... memoirs, poetry, grant writing, administrative memo, and lord know what else... we are going to be published in an anthology-both in print and on line at the National Writing Project website.. I am the only Social Studies teacher participating in this. I cannot tell you how excited I am about this opportunity. If I disappear from the screen for the next 3 weeks or so, just know that I will surface again the first week of July.. :-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)