It’s all fun and games until someone signs a contract!
Such was the case after a long, productive Sunday. The day started out in a prayerful manner. My dad used to say that he found his week on Sunday morning. I didn’t truly understand that until I reached my 66th year. Yes, Dad. You can relax. I now find my week on Sunday morning at church.
Each Sunday, the Church Ladies connect Like magnets drawn to one another, the women of our Bible study group have bonded into a unit. What a beautiful thing, friendship. Especially between women. A magical sisterhood of caring and concern. These women have become my soft place to fall in the short time we’ve known each other. Each one of us has experienced profound loneliness and isolation. Through this group, we’ve found the other pieces of this puzzle we call home. It’s a precious gift.
One of the gals suggested that we share a meal at The Tee Pee Bar and Grill. Okay, throw a small casino in along with the Bar and Grill. My goodness, it’s Nevada. Casinos are everywhere. It’s always shocking to see slot machines at the front of the grocery store or service station. Although I’ve never seen any desperate housewives playing them, they are there for a reason.
Times have been tough for the TPB&G. The veteran waitresses left their posts for greener pastures. The customers, mainly an older generation, have stayed away. A once thriving 24-hour diner has become a 7:00-2:00 establishment, while the slot machines remain open 24/7. Going there made me wish like heck Miss Firecracker would have walked through the door to join us. We shared so many secrets, always drawing attention when shrieking with laugher leaking tears down our faces. We were two women finding their way through a widow’s wilderness in the Autumn of 2020. We made it to the otherside, Miss Firecracker!
Chatter. Chatter. Laughing. Chatter. With future plans for puppy play dates in place, in a flash our plates were clean and we were hugging out our Goodbye’s until Thursday.
Racing home, faster than the desert’s Zephyr Winds, I morphed from Church Lady into College Coed. I had an assignment to finish and my papers are never late. That’s not how I roll.
Oliver had his first experience with what will become his way of life. The laundry room and the doggie door. On the way home, I panicked a little that I would find my loveable little piece of lint laying in the back yard. Dehydrated. Steps from his freshly filled pool. Too hot to take a dip. Panting his last little doggie breath in the desert sun just steps away from the shade of the apricot tree. Little x’s over his little green eyes having just succumbed to the desert heat only minutes before the sound of the garage door opening.
Not to worry. That little survivor didn’t even break a sweat. He had been inside enjoying the air conditioning. Happy as a clam to see his Mom-oh, I think he liked his time home alone. I’ll find the damage when the sun comes up later today.
Within a couple of hours, my assignment and the rest of my Sunday would be peaceful.
It was just that until 6:32PM when I received 10 emails all containing employment documents. Computer-generated forms. Last night, I promised to report all child abuse, safety infractions, bullying, and side-eyeing. I promised not to use my computer for outside activities such as shuffling funds to the Cayman Islands or other nefarious deeds. I was informed that Title IX was respected in the district. That there was no discrimination when I was hired. My direct deposits were directed and the government will now get a hefty portion of my check in the form of taxes. Twenty-eight forms in this batch, each one needing a cyber-signature from me.
The last and most important one signed was my contract. It’s now official. I am an employee again. My yard duty whistle will stop hallway runners in mid-stride. For 185 school days, I will again be Mrs. Hurt. Eyes-in-the-back-of-the-head-one-of-a-kind-loveable Mrs. Hurt. The one and only. I will watch a group full of littles grow up to read, write, and add with carrying. We’ll sing. We’ll laugh. And, then, we’ll all be tuckered out every night after long days of learning.
People are still in horror that I’d be willing to teach once again. I guess some people don’t have an intense love for something they do well. Writing and teaching provide inspiration in my life. I’m relevant again. I have a place to go in which profound and life changing things will happen every day. My group of students and I will form a bond over the year that will last a lifetime. Do you remember your 1st grade teacher? Mrs. Erickson was mine. All my teachers remain in my heart to this day. All dead and gone, they taught me critical elements of a successful life. In honor of them, I’m thrilled to return to the classroom.
I must leave you to finish my assignment. Proof reading is the last task. The paper is written in the proper style. The word count is correct. 2000 words+. 25% of my course work is now complete. This week, I’m tasked with creating a classroom Newsletter. Perfect, because that’s on my To-Do list for the school year.
Have a wonderful day! Do something you love. Love something you do. Find creativity. Enjoy a quiet moment in the day. Pet your dog or cat. Sit outside for a little while. Enjoy life. It’s beautiful.
More tomorrow.