22 October 2010

The Week's End...in Two Acts

Part I, Thursday

I'm wearing pearls and feeling a little Audrey Hepburn-ish today.  That's a good thing.  I'm wearing heels, too.  It's funny...the older I get, the more deeply my feet fall in love with them.  That's a good thing, too.  I'm all dressed up and ready for school!
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Hours have passed since I began talking to myself in this venue.  In the interim, I've taught [and learned with] twenty-two bright young minds, laughed with the best teachers in town, and finished up Night One of Parent Teacher conferences.  They were fabulous!  Seriously.  I know, I'm a lucky girl.  Tomorrow the students will not be at school, but we teachers will.  I'll be leading the K-2 teachers in an exciting (insert tongue in cheek here) session on very specific data analysis relative to my elementary building, school district, and state.  I have the two-inch-thick binder of reports ready to go.  I think I'll couple it with my favorite strappy espadrilles and a smile.  Everything is better with a smile.  Maybe it's the accessory I like best of all.  Maybe.

Part II, Friday

It was late when I arrived home last evening and as much as I felt the pull to write, I felt the tug of my youngest child's hand more keenly.  There was but one choice to make.  I love my children beyond compare.  "Mommy, you look beautiful tonight."  ~  "Ahh, I adore you, Lane Bea.  And you look quite beautiful yourself, my sweet little brown-eyed girl."  Always...always.

Today was busy.  Data Analysis is exhausting work.  Beginning the morning with pineapple juice and an jalapeno bagel helped kickstart the day.  Then there was the celebratory finale with my team ~ formally called lunch.  Thanks, Ria's, for the big comfy booth...and food...and eye candy.  (That's yet another story.) 

The remainder of the afternoon progressed well and was productive, but it is done, and I am not sorry.  I am in a melancholy mood.  I think I've experienced so much joy these past couple of days that a shift could only be expected at some point.  As I type, I am listening to songs in minor key.  They reflect my thoughts...not sadness...but there are no words to adequately explain.  The music crescendos and says what I cannot.  Ultimately, I am entering into my writer's frame of mind.  Tonight as the temperature falls and the darkness deepens, I will sit on my porch...wrapped in a blanket...notebook in hand...and I will write. 

Tonight I have a story that asks to be told.  Tonight.

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