Late March in Aspen Grove

We thought we'd get one last expedition in the other evening before we officially kissed our snowshoes goodbye for another season. We had the place to ourselves which is always a gift. There did seem to be some trees "made to bend" in an avalanche sort of way. It was glorious and beautiful and just plain good to recreate with K. Love him. Love to play outside. Saw the Sundance Turkeys on our way back down. Grateful for all of it!

Pick ME!!!

So it's Spring now and the birds are chirping early each morning. I don't chirp, but I exercise and every morning there's this robin sitting right in the middle on top of the volleyball net singing his song as if to say, "Not only can I build a nest, but I've got a NET!"

Custodial Perks

My sister used to do stand-up comedy. She's hilarious! Once she was asked by her faculty (back in the day when she taught middle school English) to do a monologue at a faculty party. I asked her what sorts of jokes and material she compiled for that. She said she cracked a few about custodians looking for any spare change they could find.

Fast forward to now. K is working as a sweeper at a local high school until he hooks up with his next park. It's true. Custodians do find spare change on occasion and it's often the highlight of their day. Even if it is only forty-five cents! It's difficult in a huge high school after hours to figure out who left their forty-five cents on the floor, so he just puts it in his pocket.

I came home from class on Thursday evening and there was a bouquet of roses in a glass vase on the table. I was SO surprised! I stopped. I exclaimed! I asked. He said, "Well, there's a little story to go along with those roses." My mind was searching, "Did you get hired for a park service job today???" No. That wasn't it.

He found the roses on the floor with papers and trash while cleaning at 4:30 p.m. It was "A" day and there wouldn't be another "A" day until Monday. The place was deserted. They were on the floor shoved under a desk with trash. So naturally, he brought them home. It's just one of the perks of the job! And no, he did not hear anything about lost roses yesterday at work either.

He had to work late last night. I had already brushed and flossed and was in bed with my Kindle hoping to stay awake until he arrived. He arrived. With a raspberry cheesecake sundae from Arctic Circle. Who does that at 10:45 p.m.? K does. His was caramel. So, of course, I ate mine. We talked about our day. When I asked about his work, he informed me that he was given a package of hamburger buns by the assistant principal, left over from the faculty luncheon. And his true delight was that he found about twenty-five points worth of Coke Rewards in the form of bottle caps!

Loose coins, roses, buns nobody wants, and bottle caps in the trash...we sure know how to get by!

I Was Raised by Archie Bunker

I called my dad last night to catch up and chit-chat. We "shot the breeze" as he is fond of saying--such a cowboy. He referred to himself as "the Archie Bunker type" which is a long-standing family joke about my dad's personality. I say joke, but it's not really.

I think the actual sitcom was called "All in the Family." When I was a kid, my parents would have that show on once a week in the evening and we would laugh along, but in a short time we all realized that we actually lived with Archie Bunker and we called him on it. Every week.

Archie (Carroll O'Connor, who was from Missoula by the way) often sat in his big comfy chair in the living room, managing his household from there. He was quite conservative and didn't put up with anyone's guff. He was blunt, a trait that I honestly inherited from my father. Archie was not fond of any boys that his daughter dated (married) which reminds me of Dad saying something like, "Boys are fine, just not in the house."

The good thing about the whole comparison is that my mom was nothing like Archie's wife (her name escapes me just now). So last night, Dad said something like, "I'd rather be known as the Archie Bunker type." Which got us to laughing.

And then he said that his wife told him recently, "You're a dead ringer for Archie Bunker."

To which Dad replied, "The kids used to tell me that all the time."

Maturation Program

Some schools do it the way we used to do it...fifth grade girls and sixth grade boys go to the Maturation Program. Some schools do it the way we're doing it now...fifth grade girls and fifth grade boys. Either way, it's the Maturation Program. Before I led the girls to the media center and the boys to the gym, someone said, "We're gonna die!"

No one died. They all came back to the classroom very much alive and mature.

One boy came up to me with his usual look, which is to say, obviously-you-want-my-input-without-asking-for-it and said, "I learned a lot. And I'm being very mature about it."

Another boy came up to me with a big yet sincere smile on his face saying, "Mrs. Kyburz, thank you for arranging that program for us (it was the school nurse, really, but he went on). I'm so glad I got to go." Then he gave me a side arm hug, which he never does, and said, "I learned so much."

I thought they might be giggly or chatty, but instead, our amazing speaker had these fellows feeling manly and responsible and in-the-know. I almost wondered if they felt relieved that someone was talking to them in very plain language about very human and normal things. I really didn't expect so much happiness afterward.

And then the normal ten year old boy question, "Can we go out to recess?"

Shopping Snippet

The mister and I were getting groceries last night when we saw a display of white plastic hangers--10 for $.99.

He said, "I think I'll grab a pack of those and get rid of some of those cheap wire hangers."

I did not laugh at him.

I said, "Good idea."

You Even Dance

These appeared on my desk today. I think it's because they all had scratch paper for their writing exam in the computer lab, so when they finished, hey, why not write a love note to the teacher. Speaking of "teacher," we're going to have to work on how to spell that particular word.

The drawing just cracks me up. How sweet are these children who automatically draw a younger, more slim Mrs. Kyburz? They have never seen me in heels and yet, they draw me that way. I love the interpretation, heart shaped earrings and all.

Anyway, they typed their guts out for the exam. I saw them making notes and outlines, trying to do everything I had taught them to do. I pray they've been successful. We had a big long recess in the nice sunny weather as a reward this afternoon. Such champs.

And That's a Wrap

February is officially behind us and March has come in like a lamb. Today was the last day of Term 2 in our trimester grading periods (why do they do trimesters here? isn't the whole rest of the world on the quarter and semester system?).

Do you have any idea what a good feeling it is that comes to teachers on the last day of a term? Nothing more we can do. Our hands are tied. You can't bargain with us or plead. It's over. D-O-N-E, done. The grades are historically stored. Frozen, I like to tell the kids.

Here's just a snapshot of our week: basketball tournament in PE, a Utah Jazz player visited our school (Jeremy Evans), our classroom was painted (moved Heaven and Earth to get ready for that on a moment's notice), we tutored the first graders, we had a talent show (and actually got the piano all to ourselves for half an hour), we had a lockdown drill with cops in plain clothes checking our school, learned how to find the LCM (look it up), modeled persuasive writing for my class and scored a perfect score each time (whew!), cookie dough sales, inside recess, outside recess, apology letters to a science teacher, testing in the lab (good luck!), a student's mom brought freshly made bread to me (surprise!), and somehow, in the middle of all those things, we finished up Term 2. Oh, and ice cream. They got ice cream for reading almost two million minutes.