Denying Homesickness
8:29 AM - Posted by Bobbi - 1 comments
On Friday, I bought some curl enhancer.

This seems like such a small detail, an insignificant part of my life, but it isn't. My hair (which has never really behaved) had become so unmanageable from the humidity that I had to get something to somewhat tame it.

So I have curls: soft, wavy thick ringlets that bounce and hover about my face.

There wasn't enough moisture in the Alaskan air to achieve such curls.

But there were other things that - for some reason - I hopelessly miss today.

I miss the mountains.

I miss eating good Chinese food.

I miss my funny-looking house, filled with my things.

I miss hiking with my friends.

Why is this so painful?

It's a rhetorical question, of course. I don't have an answer.

This is not to say that Wisconsin isn't a nice place. There's cheese. Brats. Some family. Arthur loves his school and is excelling in Spanish and English. Pilates. Biking. (And I have bouncy hair!)

Today I am not so happy.

I hope I will be happier tomorrow.

Blessed be.


Quiet House, Full Heart
7:11 AM - Posted by Bobbi - 0 comments
Today was the first day of summer school. Initially, I had enrolled Arthur since he's in the Dual Immersion Program and I didn't want him to forget all of the Spanish he had learned during the school year. I decided to enroll Balin as well; if nothing else to get him used to the motions of school.

Balin and I were directed to the outside hallway; Robinson and Arthur waited for instructions with the rest of the second graders. The corridor was packed with children and their parents, all asking the three teachers the same question: "Is my child in your class?" 

One parent wearing a maxi skirt and black tank top stood across from me, hugging her curly-haired boy snugly to her chest. She spoke to her husband with humor, but I saw the tears in her eyes. There were no other children with her, so I could understand her pain. I felt it, too.

At this moment, Arthur paraded down the hall with his class, head high and excitement in his eyes. He was okay.

I glanced down at Balin. His eyes, while unsure, were also thoughtful, absorbing the chaos around him. 

These boys - my boys - are made of sterner stuff; Arthur with his experience and Balin with his confidence. There's nothing they can't do.

And me? I'll be alone for a while, away from the madness. It will be different, a little scary, but a welcome change of pace.

Blessed be.


Last Class
6:54 PM - Posted by Bobbi - 0 comments
I taught my last Intermediate English class of the semester tonight. 

We finished reading The Island of the Blue Dolphins and discussed what we liked and didn't like about the book. We talked about how sad some of the events of the story were - Ramo and Rontu's deaths in particular had moved them - and how well written the chapters were. One student commented that his favorite chapter was the one with the devilfish. 

It was difficult to keep everyone on task; they were promised a party. Finally, I handed everyone their certificates and the celebratory bags of popcorn and told everyone how much I would miss them over the summer. They responded in kind, adding that I was the best teacher that they had ever had, even better than some of the instructors they had at Blackhawk. I did not expect such kind words. 

Looking back, I believe it. We laughed together. We shared stories and jokes. I spoke to them candidly and (I hope) without judgement. There were many, many opportunities for learning - not just  on their part, but I learned a lot as well. After everything, I am surprised by how much I will miss teaching this class. 

I will be teaching two other courses this summer - a Conversational English class and a Beginning English class - but a part of me will miss my students, their familiar smiles, and the banter we shared.  

Blessed be.




My Baby
7:09 PM - Posted by Bobbi - 0 comments
I'm close to tears, berating myself slightly for feeling this way.

Balin and I are the in vet's office, conversing with Sly's doctor. He's saying that she's going to need two of her teeth removed because the enamel is so worn. "It's become painful for her," he explained.

"Your baby's also lost a lot of weight compared to last year. That's like us losing 25 or 30 pounds in a year," he continued.

Before performing the surgery, he wanted to check her urine and her blood - just to make sure that she didn't have any other issues. I agreed.

Tuesday night, the vet called us back. The results were surprising, he told Robinson. Worst case, there is a possibility she has cancer. Would we allow him to take an x-ray before he performs the surgery in order to assess the situation?

The surgery is supposed to happen Friday morning. A part of me is in knots; after all, she's my first pet that's actually belonged to me. She was bought for me, on my birthday. She's my baby.

A part of me also knows that life is what you make of it. Aside from the boys, I hope Sly thinks she had a pretty good life, that she knows she is loved. She still sleeps with us, usually nestled in between Robinson and I, under the covers. Now that she's older, she's much more affectionate; jumping onto my lap or sitting next to me on the bed or sofa.

This cat has been a part of the family since almost the beginning. As the only creature in the house as small as they were, they loved - and still love - to chase her. (She rarely returns their affection.)

I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this, only that mortality is a difficult thing to process.

But I shouldn't be grieving, not yet.

Blessed be.