Snippet

Little bit, not a lot

I give a peek into my life

Care and thought go into my words

Enjoy sharing my writing with others.

Sun rays lengthen into longer hours of daylight

Presents of nature abound

Relax

Inhale scents of burgeoning blossoms

Newborns grace fields and meadows

Greenery heralds rebirth

“It’s like I am an unwitting player in a game of Russian Roulette” I lamented to my best friend.

She, a compassionate witness, validates my concerns and frustrations.

I am back to work, face to face, after Spring Break and feel that I am a tribute in the Hunger Games.

No changes to the stages of the Covid Education Plan, despite our province having the highest count of P1 variant in North America.

No province wide mask mandate in elementary schools. (I am fortunate that my students do wear masks.)

Education staff not yet vaccinated. Will be in the next month, with the booster four months later.

Religious services opening up again to a maximum of 50 congregants.

The barrel spins, replete with virus laden bullets.

I take evasive maneuvers – open the windows and exterior door in my classroom and wash hands at every transition. This is what I have in my arsenal.

Thoughts and prayers …

Phone call brightens day

Burdens shared, burdens lessened

Spirits lightened – joy

The quiet hum of the morning

Delectable choices of books to read – the stack revealed with one touch of the Libby App

The investment my public library has made in digital media, thank you for Libby

Two cats afoot

A comfy bed to snuggle in

Anticipation of an appointment with my massage therapist later today

An entire Saturday to savor.

It is the last day of my Spring Break

and

I

Am

Still

So

Tired

Pandemic teaching has

wrung

me

out.

If you relate to to the above sentiments, I recommend you read this teacher’s powerful blog post The Cracks Are Beginning to Show

Do you ever have a technical issue that you just can’t solve, and give up?

Remember when WordPress switched to Block Editor last year?

Well, some how that update mucked up the ability for me to publish or make updates on my classroom blog.

After figuratively banging my head against the computer monitor too many times to count, I gave up. I took it as a sign that the Universe decided that something should be taken off my plate during this year of pandemic teaching.

Flash forward to the end of February 2021. I was still unable to use my classroom blog. However MIRACULOUSLY I was able to continue to use this blog for Slice of Life. I have been merrily posting daily slices and have been uplifted by this wonderful writing community.

It got me thinking . . .

I am really, REALLY good at developing a community of readers in my classroom. Writing, not so much. We write but it does not have the same level of joy and wonder. The Classroom Slice of Life challenge could just be what I needed to add a much needed spark.

But the logistics . . .

The only way I see being able to manage a Classroom SOLC is for students to write in their Writing Notebook and for me to either take photos of their work or transcribe and then publish to my classroom blog. Just one pesky problem, I haven’t been able to make that $%@#& site work . . .

Guess what?

I revisited and tinkered my class blog . . .

Et voila!

It is a sign.

In my home I hear

the rumbling of my belly – soon to be filled with home made perogies and roasted asparagus

the pitter patter of raindrops against my floor to ceiling windows

the occasional shriek of children from the playground next door

the thump-thump-thump of footsteps from the neighbours living in the unit above me

occasional rev of vehicles on the main road behind my building

In my condo I hear the sounds of home.

I am a pineapple on pizza person, definitely not an olive on pizza patron.

I am a chortle-til-I-snort-laugh person.

I am NOT a gatekeeper barricading in joy.

I am a quiet seeking peace loving gal.

I am NOT a crowd-seeking-noise-making partier.

I am a tall truth teller, not a shrinking violet.

I am a lit-loving-librarian at heart

I am a collector of words

smithing

my

identity.